The Coolness of Reason

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. The room was my compartment on my personal jet. She laid across the bed and peered out. This was all foreign to Bonnie Clasman. The unfamiliar cloud patterns all signaled in her mind a difference from being on the ground looking up at them. She experienced a sensation of championing the skies, as an instrument of curiosity.

Once the jet began to go into autopilot, I journeyed back to the room and saw her with a glass of champagne. She had been lying there in a white satin dress. Her face looked like a porcelain doll’s. With blue diamond eyes and flowing platinum blonde hair, she stretched in a lithe manner with her petite frame.

“We’re almost there, my dear,” I said to her. I put my charcoal-colored hand up to her cheek. I noticed she had been crying.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“It’s all just so overwhelming. To look outside and see a bed of puffy white clouds is astounding,” she pointed out.

I chuckled softly. “Yes, well, get used to it. We’re going to be cloud hopping for the next few years as long as my schedule permits.”

Then, a jolt rocked the plane.

“Sons a bitches,” I called out. Bonnie got a bit nervous.

“What?! What is it, André?” She asked frantically. Lights flashed on the dashboard of the plane. I pressed six buttons and the personal jet transformed into a fighter.

“Baby, I’m going to need you to strap in, now,” I calmly showed her a seat. She buckled in and we readied ourselves for anything that may come our way. I took the controls. In the amount of time that it took for me to get back in the pilot’s chair, I had witnessed two missiles flash by like streaks of lightning. I issued flares so the other missiles would not pick up on our engine as “heat-seekers.”

I maneuvered with the flair of an acrobat and the precision of an architect. I enjoyed the thrill of the fight, actually. The adrenaline pulsed through my veins. My brain processed all that was occurring around me.

“It’s alright, babe. We’re going to be experiencing some fire from this––”

My words were interrupted by the rat-at-at of a machine gun. Some of it struck my plane. I took offense to that. That plane cost me one hundred million dollars. I earned it as an investment banker. That’s how I met Bonnie. My name was on everything: André Jackman was even on the side of the plane. She wondered who this guy was putting his name on my own investment firm, clothes, champagne, and record labels to name a few. I thought about all of this while bringing myself up to a few more thousand feet. I kept rising until I was able to double back and get behind my adversary.

In the moments that I gained prime position against the enemy, I thought about the glass of champagne that clinked against the wall and shattered. I wondered if Bonnie was supposed to realize that I was a fighter pilot for the United States Marine Corps long before I met her.

It wasn’t exactly time to sit her down and explain that I had fitted the jet with a weapons system and defensive features, just in case things got real. They were real then. I fired my first missile. A direct hit! I saw the fighter tumble down into the sea like a paper plane.

Next, another plane rose up from the depths. I launched more flares.

In my mind, I felt the thoughts slow and my reactions quicken. It was like I could feel the coolness of reason determine my thinking and allow me to focus on the outcome of the particular situation.

More gunfire. It flashed alongside me and I locked on with my missile system and fired. Another direct hit! Bonnie was beside herself. She had been strapped in for close to an hour now during this dogfight. But I was a Devil Dog and I wasn’t going to let her be harmed in any way. I straightened up my posture and still sat relaxed at the same time. I sent a distress call to the nearest base. It happened to be Dover Air Force Base in Dover, Delaware. That looked like a decent place to land this bad boy.

I took aim at my enemy and fired my last remaining missile. The jet exploded and fell into the Atlantic. I was just a few miles away from the base. I once again engaged the autopilot and checked on Bonnie.

“It’s okay, Bonnie. We’re flying––”

“She was laughing. To her, this whole excursion was like a roller coaster or a VR game. She understood the seriousness of it but still became enthralled by the excitement of the chase and the fact we won.

Bonnie kissed my lips. “That was some excellent flying, sir,” she said.

“Thank you, pardon me for not telling you that this jet had such capabilities,” I suggested.

“It’s okay. When you’re doing something as daring and challenging as what you just did, it sure is a welcome sight to see my man take to the skies like that.”

Once we landed on the base, I met up with Colonel Wilson Cottage.

Bonnie found her way to the family center and relaxed in one of the rooms. It wasn’t packed with bottles of champagne or cans of caviar, but she did find the location to be accommodating.

I looked at the colonel and he scoped me.

“You converted a personal jet into a fighter plane? The whole world is collapsing around us and you’re literallly jet setting around? You risked the life of a passenger, what, to score points as a veteran who still had the chops? What is with you? Why did you decide to even get back in the cockpit? Can’t you afford to hire pilots so you can escape from all this confusion? Please make this make sense, Major Jackman.”

“Yes, sir. I had just fitted the personal jet for reasons like this. I made a lot of enemies with my ace fighting skills. If the friends of the dead enemies ever picked up on the fact that I was flying with no weaponry, I’d be ready to be picked off like a scab. Of course I can afford other pilots but I love to fly. It brings me the greatest joy to be in that cockpit at the wheel. Does that make sense, sir?”

The colonel scoffed. “You just make sure you don’t put any other civilians in harm’s way,” he replied. “Excellent air maneuvers, by the way.” He grinned and his gray hair blew in the wind.

“Thanks,” I mentioned. We shook hands.

Bonnie and I hailed a luxury service car and journeyed down to Bethany Beach to relax for a change.