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erinasinclair2022

CHILL DUTY

***WAIT FOR THE SURPRISE ENDING!***

Written by guest author, Michael Murray

I leave the briefing room with fluttery stomach, buzzing head: it's only a bit of stage fright, nothing more. This will be my first mission as pilot.

We enter the hangar to an icy blast from the open outer doors, flinching and blinking from the abrupt chill. Not to worry: we're warm in our heavy coats, ready for any weather. The flight crew all head directly to the aircraft, each moving to his station with minimal comment, no fuss. The other guys are veterans, having flown missions for years. I'm slightly intimidated by their professionalism. They've been a close-knit team for a long time, barely acknowledging anyone not connected with the job. They were resented by many of the locals for their apparent conceit. The younger me had a bitterness for them too, but now that I'm on the team, I understand. The mission is critical, dominating lives, leaving little time or patience for distraction.

The ground crew, clownlike in their high-visibility uniforms, move from station to station, checking everyone's equipment. Everything about the mission has been checked, re-checked, discussed and re-checked some more: no sloppy work, no room for error. This ground crew is the best anywhere, and are a proud bunch. Still, they are oddly cheerful as they inspect each other's work for what seems the dozenth time.

We all come alert and quiet as the headquarters door opens into the hangar and the aircraft commander enters, stepping briskly. Not for the first time, I marvel at how light he is on his feet for a man with his rotund physique; despite the extra weight, he moves with a quick grace. He inspects the payload, looks over the craft carefully, with no wasted movement, but missing no detail: a textbook preflight inspection in quick time.

The commander words his way forward, checking equipment yet again, giving words of encouragement to each of us in turn. Somehow by being last affects me, the pressure building. But when he looks into my face, I realize he's enjoying himself, relishing the mission, loving his work. His face has turned ruddy with the cold, but he can't seem to quench his broad smile, even a bit of a chuckle. My anxiety evaporates as he tightens a strap, checks a buckle, then claps my back gently. He's done this many times, knows his business. Nothing to fear. This is going to go just as planned. A smile breaks out on my face as well. I'm more than ready for this.

The commander straps into his seat, gives a raised eyebrow to the ground crew, now in formation beside us; they respond in unison with a thumbs up. The commander's smile hatches open to a full blown belly laugh.

"Take us out, Rudolph," he calls out.

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