Neal drove across the small and antiquated airfield, dotted with small two- and four-seater propeller planes in various states of upkeep. It was a strange sarcasm of circumstance that while owning a plane would appear to be the pastime of the rich and the famous, the truth was that the wealthy owned private jets, and those far more often flew out of larger airports. So despite the alluring moniker, ‘private’ airports were usually fairly relaxed affairs. These airfields weren’t for people who wanted to own planes as status symbols; they were for the people that wanted to pilot them. Many of the small planes here were owned by two or three people in a kind of timeshare, and they were all owner maintained, owner piloted, and all loved like the proverbial Harley or well-used sailboat. Amongst these labors of love, Neal drove the team over to the two slightly dilapidated hangars that lined the far end of the airstrip.

As they approached, Neal saw that the first hangar contained two men working on an old four-seat Cessna, so he drove on to the next. The fact that the two small planes inside it were covered by tarpaulins told them that the roof probably leaked, which pretty much defeated the point of a hangar, but at least it reduced the ravages of the sun on the paint on the planes’ wide wings. Most important for the team was that it was bereft of people, and as it was already 8pm it was unlikely any would arrive anytime soon.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. They were a little early. Then Neal thought of something.

“I brought some snacks, a flip chart, and a few reference binders for the meeting.” The group brightened at the thought of a distraction. “Shall we get set up?”

They all nodded and Neal got out and opened the big doors in the back of the van allowing his five groaning fellow conspirators to tumble from its confines and stretch their aching limbs. They were wary, unsure of what to expect from the coming meeting. Only he and Madeline had actually met John Hunt before and they had so many questions, so many preconceptions. Neal smiled, knowing that they could not be prepared for what they were about to see. This was going to be interesting.

Chapter 34: Rough Hewn

It was starting to get dark. The day was at that strange point where the ground is darker than the sky, as if in anticipation of the coming night. The airfield was quiet, as was the group, who were all staring off toward a point in the evening sky. Off in the distance the twilight was punctured by two small lights, wobbling slightly as the small plane they were attached to adjusted its approach.