A taste of freedom

Chapter 9:

Crossing the line

 “Are you going to have space in the back, Noah? I’ll swap with you if you like. Or at least we can swap over every half hour so you don’t get too cramped up.”

“No, I’ll be fine, Boots,” said Noah as he dropped his travel bag in the boot of Lemon Steroids and wandered round to the passenger door to climb in. “It’s not far to Valley Forge from here and anyway, I’m smaller than you. You’d be even more cramped in the back.”

Nat smiled at us both as he closed the boot – ‘trunk’ as he calls it – and walked round to the driver’s door. “Noah’s right, Boots. We looked at a map earlier, it’ll only take us 30 minutes or so to get to Valley Forge. And he’s got the whole back seat to himself, not squashed in there with Will or Shane or somebody like he was when we used to go into town from college.”

I slid the front passenger seat back into place and climbed in as Noah settled himself into the back seat. “Yes Natters, but Noah has grown a bit since then. Noah, just shout out if you want to swap over on the way. I’m happy to swap places from time to time, let you straighten out. I can slide this seat forward and give you more leg room too.”

Noah smiled and nodded as he fastened his seatbelt and Nat turned the key to start the engine. I love the way Lemon Steroids roars and the car rocks slightly due to the torque reaction of its engine firing up. It always makes Nat grin too. He paused for a few seconds before engaging ‘Drive’: he always does that to allow the engine oil to begin circulating properly before he pulls away. When we’re playing on the gaming consoles we always screech off at high speed the instant the engine fires up but that’s not a good thing in real life. The mechanics at the garage where I have my part time job say most engine wear occurs in the first few seconds of every trip, when the moving parts might not have a proper coating of oil on them and all the parts and tolerances are cold and tight. I guess somebody explained that to Nat too when he was given the car.

“What’s at Valley Forge, guys?” I asked as Nat turned out of the long drive down from Noah’s vineyard and out onto the road.

“You’ll love it, Boots,” grinned Nat. “It’s a Revolutionary War Historic Site. All military stuff. Just up your street. They do tours and re-enactments. Noah’s pop gave me a leaflet about it last night.”

Noah nodded. “I’ve been before, Boots. It’s good.”

“After you Brits sailed up the Delaware and re-took Philadelphia from us in 1777, Washington pulled his various militias back to Valley Forge for the winter. It was far enough from Philadelphia not to be under direct threat of attack, but impeding the route inland so your army couldn’t strike further into the interior without coming up against us,” said Nat.

“It was a good site, Boots,” added Noah. “On a defensible plateau, the sort of place you recommended to us in your tactics lectures back at college.”

Nat nodded and continued. “Washington used the winter to re-equip and train his beaten troops, to mould his rag tag militias into a cohesive fighting force. It’s regarded as the birthplace of the US Army.”

“Continental Army, Nat,” corrected Noah. “We weren’t the United States back then.”

* * *

 Nat glanced at his watch and frowned. “Come on, Boots, finish your food. We’re running way behind my schedule. I only planned for us to stay here until lunch time and it’s now almost 3pm.”

I took a big bite at my burger, almost finishing it, and laughed. “Like you said, Nat, there’s so much to see here. We couldn’t just turn up, spend a morning and rush off. We had to inspect all the fortifications and the redoubts. And tour the log cabin encampments. See the armoury and forge.”

“The tour round Isaac Potts’ House was good too,” added Noah as he finished the last of his fries and sipped at his soda. “That wasn’t open when I visited with pop last year. We had to see it today, Nat. Washington’s headquarters…”

“Not to mention the artillery demo,” I added. “We couldn’t miss that, Nat. Not with Noah here. Those three-pounder volleys were ace, weren’t they Noah?”

Noah nodded but added, “They should still have swabbed them for longer, Boots, like I said. Made sure the sparks and embers were gone from the barrel before loading new powder. We do it for five whole seconds with the college cannon.”

“I guess Health and Safety wasn’t such a big thing back on the Revolutionary battlefields, Noah.”

Nat smiled and twisted his keys in his hands. “Okay guys, let’s be going. We’ve a lot more to do over in Philadelphia.”

* * *

After leaving Valley Forge, it only took us just over half an hour before we were cruising down Route 676 and into the heart of Philadelphia. As I was looking out of the window and gauging where things were – there were plenty of signposts to historic sites and visitor attractions – Nat swung off Route 676 and onto the slip road for the I 95 just before we got to the Benjamin Franklin Bridge over the Delaware River. I’ve heard of Benjamin Franklin. He invented kites. Keys too, so the legend has it. We only stayed on the I 95 for a few minutes then, where it starts to run parallel to the river, Nat piloted Lemon Steroids into a river-side car park at a place called Penn’s Landing Marina. I guess that’s where they think William Penn landed.  They probably have a preserved footprint in some mud under a glass case or something to try and prove it. If they don’t, they should have. Most people would believe it was real. Tourists are generally gullible. Like the ones me and dad pranked down at Plymouth a year or two back. Pointed out an old red telephone box to them and told them how special it was. “It’s the very phone box Sir Francis Drake used to telephone Queen Elizabeth to tell her the Spanish Armada had been sighted sailing up the Hoe. It’s got a Preservation Order on it. Of course, they didn’t have mobiles back then…”

As soon as the car stopped, I tumbled out the door and then helped Noah unfold himself from the back seat and climb out too. He smiled as he stretched himself out.

“You’ll like it here, Boots. Me and Nat made a special plan for us. Look over there.”

I took a step forward and looked round the big steel sign about car park rules and peered over the bushes blocking my view. Bloody hell! There’s an old iron clad pre-dreadnought battleship moored up alongside the car park! And another submarine. And a big three-masted sailing ship. Noah’s still smiling. Like he knows something I don’t.

“He’s not spotted the main thing yet, Nat.”

Nat was grinning as he climbed out of the car after allowing the engine to idle for a moment before switching off. “We thought we’d keep it as a surprise for you, Boots. Welcome to the Independence Seaport Museum. Now, grab your bag out of the trunk and we’ll go and check in at our hotel. It’s a little late in the day to go aboard the museum ships now, but we can grab something to eat, relax and make our plans for tomorrow.”

I stepped back around Lemon Steroids to grab my bag and that was when I saw it. A bloody huge battleship. An Iowa. It’s got to be. Just moored up a few hundred yards downstream on the opposite bank, partially hidden from my view by the sailing ship on this side of the river. That must be what Noah was hinting at.

“He’s spotted it, Nat.”

“Is it a museum ship too, Nat? Can we go visit it tomorrow?”

“It’s on the wrong side of the river, Boots. The centre of the river is the state line between Pennsylvania and New Jersey. I promised pop I wouldn’t take Lemon Steroids out of Pennsylvania, remember?” Nat paused and exchanged a sly glance with Noah, who was clearly in on the scheme, then added, “Of course, we could park here, and take that ferry over the state line…”

I burst out laughing. Mandy’s right. Dad too. Nat is definitely as cunning as a fox.

We all shouldered our overnight bags and began walking along the riverfront. Just a few hundred yards upstream was the Philadelphia Hilton. That’s got to be where we’re staying tonight. Nat wouldn’t settle for less. Best hotel in a prime location. That’s how the Bauers do things.

“Where you going, bud?” asked Nat as I swung off the riverside path and started to head towards the Hilton’s waterfront entrance. “We’re not staying there…”

Noah is looking at me with his look again.

Nat smiled. “You can tell him, Noah.”

Noah beamed. “We’re staying on the battleship, Boots. The USS New Jersey. They do ‘liveaboard experience’ nights for scouts and youth groups and so on. We qualify as cadets. Nat phoned the college office yesterday when you were busy talking to my mom in the kitchen. Mrs Woodleigh arranged permission for us to stay aboard tonight.”

* * *

You get a great view of the city from the riverboat style ferry that joins the two sides of Philly across the Delaware. Actually, I think Philadelphia stops at the west bank and the east bank is totally separate. It’s in a different state, New Jersey, after all. Nat’s dad won’t have any sway in New Jersey. I guess the Bauers’ money might though. Money seems to count everywhere. The trip across the river only took a couple of minutes, but the ferry also does longer trips along the river for sight-seeing. I’ll ask Nat if we can do that too, tomorrow. Noah led the way along the New Jersey shoreline down towards the battleship with me and Nat tagging along a few paces behind. Nat kept grinning at me. He likes to pull off these surprises.

It was only a ten-minute walk to the entry booth at the base of the gang-plank. As we got there a few people were filing out from the ship into the car park area and one of the staff was starting to close the ticket booth.

“Sorry boys,” he said as he looked up, “We’re closing for today. You all will have to come back tomorrow if you want to do the tour. We open again at ten in the morning.”

Nat smiled and held out his hand in that effortless way he has in taking control of a situation. “I’m Cadet Sergeant Major Nathan Bauer. We’re here for the ‘liveaboard experience’ tonight. We’re from Allegheny River Military College.”

The man nodded as he shook Nat’s hand. “Oh, that’s different then. You need to make your way to the far end of the pontoon and board by the other gang plank over there. Check in with them and have your authorisation letters ready.”

We trogged off along the pontoon and were soon at the second gang plank. A middle-aged man was waiting there with a clipboard and a friendly smile. “Here for the liveaboard tonight?”

Nat smiled and immediately stepped to the front of me and Noah. “We sure are, Sir. Cadet Sergeant Major Nathan Bauer, from Allegheny River Military College, along with Corporals Mason and Wright. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

The man nodded and shook Nat’s proffered hand. “Welcome aboard, shipmates. I think you’re the late additions to my list. Only got added an hour ago.” He glanced down at his clipboard. “We normally board between five and six pm, so you are a few minutes early. Better that than late though.” He screwed up his eyes and looked at Nat. “Say, haven’t I seen you on TV? A documentary about that military college? You’re the Lieutenant Governor’s son, aren’t you?”

Nat smiled. “Yes, Sir.”

“Well, that explains a few things. We’ve got over two hundred scouts booked to come onboard tonight, plus their adult staff. All accommodated in the enlisted ratings’ berths when they arrive. Bunks four racks high, crammed in like sardines. Just like I was when I served aboard this very ship in the Gulf.” He paused and smiled again. “Seems somebody has pulled a string or two for you though. Paid quite a bit extra, an additional donation on top of the usual overnight fee. You’ll be doing the same as everybody else, eating in the chow line and doing chores, but you get some privileges. The Admiral’s Staff’s quarters are being opened up tonight, a rare thing. There are eight bunks in there which would have accommodated the officers supporting a fleet admiral when we had one on board. Not luxurious, it’s still bunks, but only two racks high and you get a bit more space. A desk and a chair too.”

Nat smiled but before he could speak the man continued. “There’s a caveat though. You’ll be sharing the Staff Quarters with a small group of Eagle Scouts over from New York. Similar age to you, so we figured you wouldn’t mind letting them join you rather than them having to share with the youngsters. It can get to be mayhem with a few hundred excited kids all down in the enlisted berths.”

Nat smiled. “No, we don’t mind sharing. We’d have been happy to be in the enlisted berths too. Wouldn’t we, guys?”

Noah and I nodded.

“That’s fine then. I’ll show you to your quarters and you can read up on the rules and the history of the ship a bit before the safety brief and fire drill at six thirty. Oh, and according to this list, there’s been a delivery for you. A package has already been brought onboard and put in your quarters.”

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, after a tortuous path through the ship, along corridors and up and down ladders, we arrived at the area designated for an admiral and his staff if and when they had been onboard. The captain was still in charge of the ship of course, even with an admiral on board: the admiral was there to run the fleet and make the battle decisions but the ship was still the captain’s responsibility.

“Over there is the Admiral’s Cabin,” said our guide, “And here are the quarters for his staff. Up to eight officers in this cabin, and maybe as many as twenty enlisted men, clerks and signallers and so forth, in that one. Now, I’ll leave you to make yourselves comfortable, if you can. Listen out for the announcements over the speaker and make sure you are down on the fantail – that’s the deck at the very back of the ship – for the safety briefing. You did leave a trail of breadcrumbs didn’t you so you can find your way back from here?”

Nat and I laughed as Noah smiled and said quietly. “No need, I can remember.”

As the guide’s footsteps echoed away along the passageway, Noah, Nat and I stepped into our cabin.

“It’s not too bad,” said Nat. “I’ll have the bottom bunk in this rack.”

“I’ll have the one opposite you, Nat,” I said, throwing my bag onto it. “Where are you going to sleep, Noah?”

Noah studied the layout for a moment and then smiled before putting his bag on the bunk above Nat’s. “I’ll have this one. Look, they have little curtains that pull around them.”

“No sheets or blankets though, guys, just bare mattresses,” I said. “Scout around, there must be some somewhere. What’s in that locker near you, Noah?”

“There aren’t any, Boots. We have to provide our own, or sleeping bags. We got emailed a list of stuff to bring.”

I didn’t get an email. Nobody told me. Nobody ever tells me stuff. I haven’t brought a sleeping bag.

Nat was already smirking. Doing his Jedi mind reading trick. “No, I didn’t tell you, Boots. It would have spoiled the surprise. So we kept it secret, didn’t we, Noah?”

Noah turned and smiled at me. “That’s the package, Boots. Nat arranged for the store nearby to ship us three sleeping bags.”

Nat had already pounced on the cardboard box that he’d spotted on one of the small desks, was busy pawing at the parcel tape sealing its lid.

“Shift over, Nat. Let the expert through. I’ve got my pocket knife.”

It only took a few deft strokes of my pocket knife to open the box and start pulling the bubble wrap out. Beneath it were three new white cotton towels in plastic wrappers and three summer weight sleeping bags packed tightly in their waterproof stuff sacs: one olive drab, one red and one bright orange.

“Which colour bag do you want, Noah?” asked Nat, deliberately ignoring my eyes drilling into the olive drab one. “Green?”

“Can I have the orange one, Nat?” asked Noah. “I think Boots wants the green one.”

Nat laughed and pitched the orange stuff sac expertly to Noah, who caught it with a smile and placed it on his bunk. “I guess I’ll have the red one,” said Nat, “I wouldn’t want to get between Boots and his primal desire for anything camouflaged…”

After a few minutes unpacking what we needed from our bags, then storing them in the tiny lockers at the end of each rack of bunks, Noah, Nat and I sat down around the tiny table squeezed into one end of the cabin. Nat spread a map and some leaflets out on the table.

“Let’s plan, guys,” said Nat. “Tonight, after the briefings, we get to eat onboard, and do a tour round the ship. Engine room, bridge, guns, the lot.  There’s also a film about the history of the ship too. After that, we go on deck and the saluting gun is fired before they hoist the flag down. Then it’s back to the berths or another tour; sick bay, aircraft hangar, missile deck and then finally snacks and lights out. In the morning, it’s reveille at seven, breakfast at eight. All the scouts then do some projects to earn merit badges until noon, then they go ashore and head off home. We don’t have to do that. If you agree, because we’ll have done the full ship tour tonight, we can go ashore right after breakfast and head back across the river. Good so far?”

Noah nodded.

“It’s got the makings of a plan, Natty,” I said.

“Good. So, after breakfast, we go back across the other side and go to the Independence Seaport Museum, get tickets for the ironclad cruiser Olympia and the submarine. If we’re pushed for time because you keep us aboard Olympia too long, Boots,” grinned Nat, “We can skip the submarine. You’ve already been on the one in Pittsburgh. We’ll go straight to the sailing ship in that case.”

Noah nodded in agreement. “We’ll have lunch onboard the sailing ship, Boots. It’s a restaurant too. A real good one. They buy wine from us. My pop will be able to make sure we get a table.”

“That,” said Nat, “Will then leave us the afternoon for Noah to show us some other places. We can finish off with dinner at a place I know and then drive back to Noah’s house for a final night at this end of Pennsylvania. We can be back there about nine pm. That sound good to you both?”

“That’s good, Nat.”

* * *

Nat placed his serving ladle down on the counter top, wiped his hands on his white cotton apron and turned to smile at me. “That wasn’t too bad, Craig. I don’t know if I ever want to serve up another boiled potato though, let alone eat one, after dishing out over a hundred portions of them.”

“It was the best option, Nat,” I replied. “The three of us volunteering to be servers for the chow line before we were even asked meant that we weren’t available for some of the other duties on the list. Dishing out spuds is way better than having to do all the washing up, or cleaning the heads. That so, Noah?”

Noah pushed his white cap back up his forehead and smiled as he put down the tongs he had been using to dispense portions of spicy Cajun sausage and fried onions. “Yes, Boots. This was a good idea. It’s hot behind here, but better than washing up.”

The food we’re serving isn’t bad at all. It’s authentic, exactly what would have been on the menu back in the Second World War when New Jersey was first in commission. Every kid filing past got given a scoop of sausage and onions by Noah, a pile of spuds from Nat and a choice of either peas or beans from me. I can handle two ladles. Left hand peas, right hand beans. Choose quick, kid, don’t hold up the line.

There are actually two chow lines running to speed things up, both being fed from a common galley. We’re only serving about 250 kids and staff tonight but when New Jersey was an active battleship she had a crew of over 2,500! They didn’t all eat at once of course, the crew worked in shifts round the clock, but the cooks and kitchen staff were on the go non-stop keeping them all fed as they came on and off duty.

The four guys from New York that we’re sharing our cabin with drew the short straw. They arrived late, boarding just after we had the safety briefing then stood silently for the lowering of the ship’s colours back on the fantail. That didn’t do them any favours: them noisily clattering up the gangplank and asking where the food was didn’t win them any friends amongst the staff. I’d have put them in the brig for an hour if they’d given me the power. I quite fancy being the captain of a ship. Once out of the 12-mile territorial waters I’d be a god. Absolute power over everybody onboard. Anyway, the Noo Yawkers got shown to our quarters, then were given a long list of clean up duties right after we’d been introduced to each other.  They don’t seem a bad bunch, a couple of years older than us but I don’t think they have twigged that. I guess we’ll see more of them later tonight after the tours are over.

“Well done, boys, that was pretty efficient. Now you’ve got about ten minutes to dish yourselves a portion of food and eat it whilst me and the other chefs swap out the trays and get the dessert course ready for you to serve. Tonight’s choice is between fruit salad and ice cream or a slice of pecan pie.” Instructions delivered, the chef disappeared back behind the tray racks.

“You heard the man, guys,” said Nat. “Noah, dish us three plates of sausage and onions, Boots, you top them up with spuds and beans and I’ll go grab us some cutlery and find us a table space. Chop-chop.”

I exchanged glances with Noah. “Who made him King?”

“He crowned himself, Boots,” smiled Noah as he reached for some plates and picked up his serving tongs.

* * *

It was just after 10:30pm when the door swung open and the four Noo Yawkers tumbled into our cabin. Me, Nat and Noah had already showered and changed into our pyjamas and dressing gowns and were sat around the table having a cup of cocoa – Noah had found a Thermos in the kitchen and brought a supply of hot water to our room and I always keep some emergency rations of drinks and snacks in my bag. Morale boosters, dad calls them. We’d just been debating if the Iowa class battleships, New Jersey being one of them, were the best battleships ever built. The tour guides had claimed they were, but Nat was arguing in favour of Bismark and I was putting him right. The best battleships have to be the King George V class. Stands to reason: the King Georges were the only battleship class in WW2 to sink two other battleships, Scharnhorst and Bismark. Got that Nat?

“Sean, when you invited us in this trip, I didn’t expect to be tidying up after a couple of hundred kids,” said one of them.

“Or mopping the floors in the shit house,” said another loudly, clearly unhappy.

“Guys,” said a third, who we’d earlier established was the one meant to be in charge, “I didn’t invite you. You decided to gatecrash. This trip was for me and Lukas. You and Cole invited yourselves along and got us to cover for you, make out you were scouts too.”

Nat smiled wryly and stood up, offering his hand. “Hi again, Jed, welcome home. I’m Nat, and these here are Craig and Noah as you’ll recall. I guess you got collared with clean up duties. We did our time as servers. Hectic, wasn’t it?”

Jed smiled as he shook hands again with Nat and tried to placate the two more vociferous of his colleagues.

“We were just about to turn in for the night,” said Nat. “It’s an early start tomorrow. Reveille is at six. Craig here might be up a little before that, he’s offered to sound the bugle for them instead of them using a recording. He’ll try not to wake you when he gets up, won’t you Boots?”

I smirked. “Waking people up is the purpose of reveille, Natters, no harm in giving you lot a head start.”

Noah swirled the last dregs of his cocoa round in the bottom of his cup, gulped it down, then stood and squeezed past Nat and me and climbed into his bunk. He smiled and said goodnight before pulling the curtain shut and sealing himself off. I was about to do the same when Nat’s phone flashed and started to vibrate across the table. Nat picked it up.

“Hi, Will.” He paused, then spoke again. “Will?”

 

“We’re in an armoured box, Nat,” I said. “Best Faraday cage ever. Try standing near the porthole if you want a signal. Probably have to go out on deck though.”

Nat squeezed over to the porthole and held his phone near it as the Yawkers looked on, bemused.

“That’s it, I got you a bit better now Will. Just about hear you. Yeah, he’s here too.” Nat glanced across at me. “Will wants a meeting. Says it’s urgent. Squeeze over here, I’ll put us on speaker.”

There’s not much space in the cabin, particularly when we have a couple of dumb eejits, Sean and Cole, that look as though they are deliberately trying to be difficult. They might be older than me but I can match them physically, push past them and get to Nat, and I don’t mind treading on a toe if I have to.

“Hi Will, Craig here. I can just about hear you too.”

“Hi Boots, glad I got you both. I’ve been trying for hours.”

“We’ve been touring the ship, Will. If 14-inch shells can’t punch down into the magazines and boiler rooms a radio signal had no chance. Plus, we left our phones back up in the cabin too.”

Will chuckled and then continued. “I’ve been looking into your ideas, Boots. About the signal harvesting. I can do it, and it would work. I tested it last night with my laptop and a couple of cell phones. But there’s a better way. I looked up the ‘Rivet Joint’ plane you mentioned and did some online searches. It’s cool kit. Anyway, long story short, I discovered they carry Rohde and Scwartz RF signal receiver – analysers, racks of them, and...”

Nat looked at me. “You following this, Boots?”

“Got it, Nat. Go ahead, Will.”

“Well Boots, we can use one too. It’s way more effective than me writing a script and cobbling some cell phones together. It’s industry standard equipment, a 19-inch rack mount profile. It’d fit in the equipment bay Travis’s plane already carries. Just plug straight in.”

Sean and Cole, the awkward Yawkers, were sneering. “What the hell are they on about?”

Will was just getting into his stride. “I phoned Travis’s pop. He says if we get one, he’ll let us fly it in his plane if we can show it meets specs for safety. I’m getting the data for that emailed to me from Rohde and Scwartz. They are willing to hire us one for a 30-day test, discounted option to buy after rental if we want it.”

Nat’s started to look very interested now. He can see where he fits in with this. Sorting out the contracts and legal stuff, doing the negotiating, striking deals. Obviously, he’ll have to get somebody to actually sign on our behalf, for the company, but he’s starting to buy into whatever Will is proposing. Will’s obviously up for it, he’s got the technology bit between his teeth. Probably spent all last night online reading up on the RC135 and drilling down into the details of radio traffic analysers.

“So, Will, what’s the next step?” interrupted Nat. “Why this urgent meeting?”

“Will sighed. “Timing, Nat. We only have a limited window to get one of their analysers on order and shipped if we’re to meet the deadline and get it fixed in Travis’s plane when he comes over to Noah’s and college. Plus we have to sort out the rental cost and agree if we want to buy it if it works for us. I want to spend some of our operating fund. $90 grand, Nat. You and Boots need to agree to it.”

Ninety thousand dollars? Will wants to spend ninety thousand dollars! On a glorified radio. I know we have it in the bank. Our operating fund. But ninety grand? The Yawkers have gone quiet too. Just looking at each other.

Nat’s taking it in his stride. Just like he’s about to spend twenty bucks on a pizza and a handful of sodas. We’re going to spend it. I can tell. Will doesn’t actually need our agreement; he’s just being courteous about asking us. Well, maybe it’s a bit more than that. He genuinely does want us to run this company by mutual agreement. He says that’s how the best companies run.

“Boots?” Nat’s looking at me. Raising his eyebrow. The Yawkers are gob-smacked. I think I am too.

“Err, we need to spend ninety grand, Nat? Is that what Will wants?”

“Invest ninety grand, Boots,” came Will’s disjointed voice. “And if Nat’s any good as VP of Finance, he’ll get that negotiated down.”

Nat’s nodding. “Got some ideas on that front already, Will. Payment by results. Stage gated of course. Option to cancel without cost. Service level and availability thresholds. Maintenance contract thrown in.”

“So, guys, do we have agreement?”

Nat’s looking at me. “You get your dividend payment, Boots. That’s already agreed. This is just operating fund spend. Investment, as Will says.”

“I’m in, Will. Just saving Nat the trouble of twisting my arm.”

Nat laughed. “Me too, Will. Get the details emailed through to our office address and I’ll get them looked over and start drawing up some contracts. You happy for our lawyers to sign on your behalf again or do you want your pop’s team to review stuff first?”

“Depends on timings, Nat. Ideally my pop’s accountants should take a look but if we’re pushed for time I’ll waive that and you go ahead. Let’s talk again at the weekend. That’ll give you a few days to sort the contract side of things and me to talk to R & S’s technical guys about exact specifications and aircraft integration.”

“Okay Will, that’s the plan. We’d best go now and get our heads down. It’s ‘lights out’ here. Speak soon.”

Nat ended the call and looked at me. “You okay with that, Boots? Seems like Will liked your latest idea. Thinks it could be our big break. Take us up a league into the big time.”

Am I okay with that? I don’t know. I think I am. It’s just I’ve never spent ninety thousand dollars before. I’ve never spent a thousand dollars before! It doesn’t seem real. I guess I really am finding out what it’s like in Nat’s world now.