Their flight had been delayed three
times before they arrived and B.A. was surely furious with waiting for them by
now. Face was not looking forward
to the predictable tirade on yet another reason flying was a bad idea.
So when he noticed Murdock was no longer beside him his first reaction
Looking around he found the pilot had
stopped dead on the spot and was staring out across the airport his head tipped
slightly to the side and a attentive look on his face.
Face rolled his eyes. Should
"Murdock, we're late for our ride
here," he prompted. "You
really want to get B.A. mad?"
"Just a minute."
Murdock stared upwards.
Face frowned, usually Murdock was
bounding ahead of the rest of them to be the first into the van to regale B.A.
with tales of their flight.
flapped a hand impatiently and Face suddenly noticed that Murdock wasn't the
only one stood motionless on the tarmac, staring at the sky. Face looked around, puzzled, still not sure what he was
supposed to be listening to. All he
could hear was aircraft engines and Murdock had surely heard plenty of those
Hannibal had paused in his striding
towards the terminal and turned back towards them.
"Aren't we supposed to be
late?" he asked mildly. Face
shrugged. Murdock ignored them both
as the noise grew louder.
A boy nearby yelped and Murdock snapped
his head up to look where he was pointing and gave a cry which sounded almost as
shrill and over-excited as the child's.
Face followed his gaze and smiled in
spite of himself as he saw the source of the reaction.
Against the deep blue of the summer sky, the gleaming profile of the
aircraft was unmistakeable. He
glanced back at Murdock who was as rapt as a worshipper in a cathedral, then to
Hannibal who was also watching.
The child who has shouted was now
jumping up and down and shrieking to anyone who would listen, "Concorde! Look!"
Everyone was already looking.
Sliding thorough the sky, the slender
shape and graceful descent seemed utterly detached from the jet engine roar that
now drowned out everything else.
Face watched as the plane seemed to
drift downwards, unencumbered by practicalities like mere gravity. Yeah right, the cynic in him said.
That's a hell of a speed for 'drifting'.
Still there was something almost animate
about the craft, as it settled itself onto the ground to touch down upon it's
own reflection in the shimmering heat haze.
Face firmly dismissed the obvious
comparison with swans and lakes which arrived unprompted, and tugged at
"If you're done paying homage, B.A. is waiting."
Murdock dragged his gaze away from the taxying aircraft and grinned, starry-eyed at Face. He didn't say a word, but the grin had still not faded when they reached the parking lot.
Unexpectedly B.A. was standing outside the van, leaning against it and looking completely at ease. Murdock smiled serenely at him and for once didn't start enthusing about the flight. He climbed into the can without a word and B.A. gave him a sharp look then glanced back in the direction they'd come.
"I donít fly."
His gaze slid upwards to the now empty sky. "But that's some lady."
Murdock stuck his head back out and beamed at him.
B.A. gave him shove. "Get back in there, fool. You're late!"
Face smiled, shook his head, and joined the now outraged-looking Murdock in the back of the van.
Concorde: 2nd March 1969 - 24th October 2003. She'll be missed.
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