Bilton - Working Title

Chapter One - Check Flight

Author's Note ▼

Chap. 1 - Check Flight - Word Count = 1966

This was a very unusual day. In Captain Fiona O’Reilly’s world unusual was almost unacceptable. Not only was she scheduled to do a check flight very early in the semester, from the looks of it, but the student pilot had also beat her to the tarmac, even though she was twenty minutes early.

Bilton was chatting with the ground crew, trying to keep calm. As eager as he was to become a certified pilot, he wasn’t as sure as his instructor that he was ready for a check flight. That feeling bubbled in the pit of his stomach when he saw who his check pilot was. Group Captain O’Reilly had a reputation for being a stickler for detail, and she was a hard grader. A great pilot herself, she expected perfection in others.

“A bit early, Cadet Bilton.” O’Reilly was plainly annoyed, and her tone showed it. “In several ways, I might add.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” His stomach took another loop. “Sorry, Ma’am, but I always enjoy speaking with the ground crew —”

“Very well.” Cutting him off. “Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible. Shall we? Tell me about the aircraft you’ll be attempting to fly today, Cadet.”

Bilton shook off another dig at his confidence, blocking her out and gesturing towards the plane on the tarmac. “This is an Avro Lancaster. A heavy bombardment plane developed for use in World War Two, and its first flights took place in 1942. It was the mainstay of the RAF, conducting 156,000 sorties. The Lanc did most of its work on night bombing runs, though several significant daylight raids were conducted. Most famous was the dam busting raids, using special armaments that bounced on the surface of the water.”

O’Reilly frowned and nodded. “You may begin your preflight, Cadet.” She added another question. “Am I to believe this is an original aircraft, a 250-year-old aircraft?”

As he moved towards the Lanc, “no, Ma’am, the aircraft has been rebuilt, from the airframe out. Much of it is original but critical systems like engines, controls, and electronics have been updated to meet current standards.”

“The engines?”

“Royals Royce built the original engines, this being one of the earlier models of the Lancaster. Those engines were torn down and rebuilt or remanufactured and are more powerful and efficient than those they replaced.”

“Any other major modifications,” she asked.

“Yes, Ma’am.” A slight grin curving his upper lip. “This aircraft has been modified from a single stick to dual control, allowing the training pilot to assume control if the student screws the pooch.”

As Bilton worked his way around the plane, Captain O’Reilly checked off each item he examined and called out. So far, he hadn’t missed any, which was surprising considering how little time he had spent practicing the ground preflight. He completed his preflight, with a touch of his fingers to his lips and a pat on the plane's nose art, a silly custom, but one Fionna agreed with, better silly and lucky than — she broke off the thought.

“Very well, Cadet.” Gruffly. “Suit up, and let’s get on board.” She nodded grudging approval at the Cadet’s next words while she tucked her into a helmet.

“Thank you, gentlemen.” He smiled at the ground crew. “She’s in superb shape. You’ve given us a fine aircraft.”

They WORD into the plane’s cockpit, Bilton entered first and took his position in the right seat. Even though he was a Cadet, for this flight, he was the command pilot. Without waiting, he started the in-plane preflight, testing systems and setting gauges before the engine start. Captain O’Reilly continued her checklist, making one small note when Bilton skipped but later returned to an item.

The pungent smell of the plane’s exhaust streamed in through the open window as Bilton and the ground crew started each of the four engines in turn. Bilton let them settle into an even rumble before turning to the Captain. “Captain, with your permission.”

“Permission granted, Cadet.”

Bilton glanced down at the slip of paper he had taped to the panel, out of the check pilot’s sight. “Cranwell tower, this is Check flight 2192-3-14B requesting taxi clearance to an operating runway.”

“Rodger 314B, you are cleared for taxiway 1W to Runway 36 — hold on approach for incoming aircraft.

“Rodger Cranwell, taxiing now.”

At the end of the runway, they waited as a ponderous transport thundered above them, touching down with a screech and a puff of smoke. Runway landings were still the most efficient means of slowing aircraft, even if the modern ones could land from a hover.

“314B, you are cleared for takeoff on 36 — Godspeed.”

“Rodger Cranwell,” Bilton replied, “314B is cleared for takeoff.”

Bilton steered the Lanc onto the runway, aligning the nose with the white guidelines. “An assist with the brakes, Captain.” Together they stood on the plane’s brakes, holding it in place as Bilton allowed the plane’s four massive engines to rev up to full power. “Release.”

The plane picked up speed, eating up a third of the runway quickly. At the halfway point, she began to feel light, and her nose began to lift. With a gentle nudge of the yoke, the plane left the ground.

Still ticking off boxes, O’Reilly spoke for the first time. “Climb to 36,000, a slow, steady turn to the southwest (check this direction) Cadet.”

“Yes, Ma’am”

Now flying over the open ocean, O’Reilly ran Bilton through the standard maneuvers, figure eights, climbs, shallow dives, steep climbs, and combinations of everything. She tried as hard as she could to surprise and disconcert him and even asked him questions about the aircraft as he completed the course she set.

“How many crew does this aircraft carry, Cadet?”

Coming out of a steeply banked turn. “Originally a crew of seven, the modified version we’re in right now is crewed by eight. A long-range sensor operator was added to make use of the aircraft as a weather hunter. But, today its just the two of us.” Just in case I do mess up, he thought to himself

“Very well, Cadet, please return us to Cranwell.”

The flight back was uneventful, and as he followed Cranwell’s beacon, he relaxed and enjoyed flying the plane. If he passed on, he’d be allowed to train on the more modern atmospheric aircraft. He’d also be the youngest pilot ever certified. Though from his check pilot’s expression, he might be on his way to washing out of flight school entirely.

A chime told him he was just over Cranwell’s outer markers. “Cranwell Tower, this is 314B, requesting approach vector.”

“Rodger 314B you are cleared for approach and landing on runway 36, no other aircraft in the pattern.”

“Rodger Cranwell”

“Request a touch and go, Cadet.” She wasn’t letting him off easy.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Speaking into his mike again, “Cranwell, we are requesting a touch and go —”

“Rodger 314B, touch and go, loop right for your return approach, please.”

“Thank you, Cranwell, touch and go, looping south.”

The wheels barely touched the runway before Bilton increased power to the engines, forcing the Lanc back into the air. He climbed out to 20,000 feet while turning in a slow circle to the right.

“Thank you, Cadet. Bring us around for another approach if you please.” There was almost a smile in her voice as she reached over the panel and cut off all four engines.

It was the silence that he found most disturbing. The steady drone of the engines was gone, all he heard was his breath inside his helmet. It took a beat to organize his thoughts. “Engine failure.” Starting a procedure he had only done in simulation. “Initiate restart copilo- err — Captain.” In his next breath. “Cranwell, Flight 314B, I am declaring an emergency. We have a failure on all four engines, requesting immediate clearance for 36.

“Restart failed.” O’Reilly sounded positively joyful. “We are a brick glider, Cadet”

“Rodger, 314B, you are cleared for emergency approach on 36. We will notify the field of your emergency.

“Do you wish to take control of the aircraft, Captain?”

“Negative Cadet.” Still amused. “You are the aircraft commander. Get us down, safely please.”
His voice was tight when he answered, “yes, Ma’am.” “Cranwell, please notify fire rescue we are powerless, we do not have time to dump fuel, and are at half tanks all around.”

“Rodger 314B, we have you patched into Rescue. They acknowledge your status.

He kept the movements gentle, letting the aircraft find a gentle slope downward. The shallow dive kept the airspeed up. Too shallow, and the plane would stall, too deep, and they’d run out of air before they made the runway.

The slow turn brought the runway in sight. Bilton lined up carefully; no engines meant he had one shot at this and no margin for error.

“Copilot, call off our attitude.” After all, she had made him command pilot.

O’Reilly began a steady chant of decreasing numbers. Bilton kept his eyes locked on the far point of the runway, not daring to look at the approaching ground. Target fixation would kill them both. He thought about the ground crew and all their hard work would be for naught if he drilled the Lanc into the ground.

O’Reilly’s call of 100 feet matched the bird’s flight over the runway threshold. Bilton concentrated on keeping the nose of the craft up, letting the main gear hit first. The sweet screech of rubber on the tarmac, a second screech as the Lanc bounced, then stayed down. The nose gently lowered until it too kissed the earth.

With plenty of runway left, Bilton used the brakes sparingly at first, the plane raced past the chasing emergency vehicles. Their lights and sirens at first faded then grew louder as the plane slowed to match their speed. With a quarter of the runway left the craft drifted to a halt.
“Tower this is 314B, we are stopped and safe for approach, kindly send a tow —”

O’Reilly actually laughed, a laugh that was drowned out by the sound of two engines turning over and starting. “No need for a tow Bilton, the engines seem fine now.”

“Umm Tower, we seem to have a restart, we clearance to taxi to our hanger.”

“314B you are clear to taxi.” There was laughter in the background. “Excellent job 314B”

“Rodger Tower, 314B out.”

They made it back to the hanger area without incident, Bilton couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed at the Group Captain or pleased that he hadn’t wrecked the Lanc. O’Reilly left the plane while Bilton completed the shutdown, and she was waiting for Bilton at the hatch. “So, Mr. Bilton, it seems you’ve succeeded in your quest to become the youngest certified pilot in Cranwell’s history. I am permitting you to move on to the next phase of flight training —”

“Thank You, Captain O’Reilly.” Reaching out to shake the offered hand, Bilton was elated. “I hope that I can —”

“Don’t get too excited Mr. Bilton.” Doing her best to look stern. “You have gained my attention, and that isn’t always a good thing.”

Even that remark couldn’t douse the happiness Bilton felt, and after a quick salute, he turned and thanked the ground crew one more time. Before he walked away, Bilton approached (NAME) once more, placing an actual kiss on the plane’s nose.

The ground crew’s senior NCO approached O’Reilly. “That was an exceptional check flight, Fionna.”

“Certain exceptional pilots ofttimes need except tests Charlie, and our Mr. Bilton may be one of them.”

“Well, Fionna, time will tell. That’s if you don’t wash him out or kill him first.”

“True Charlie, very true.” Fionna laughed. “Care to join me for a bit of lunch and a pint Charlie?”