Skyway Arizona

Skyway Arizona

By

Mark Paul Sebar

Copyright © 1995 All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright © 1995 All Rights Reserved

Library of Congress, United States of America

ISBN 978-1-930246-43-0TXu001668162

http://www.sebar.com/pub

Please support the author, many hours went into this story.

Table of Contents

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

Chapter 05

Chapter 06

Chapter 07

Chapter 08

Chapter 09

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Other Sebar Stories

More Doo-Dads

Author Q&A

Chapter 1

March 1st, 7:02PM 1885

The village was burning along the upper Gila River and a number of dead Pima Indians lay strewn about. The Apache brave stood over a dying old man who they knew had collaborated with the whites. He bent down and asked the Pima. Tell me what you saw when the whites arrived.

The old man half out of it, motioned with his hands. I saw a God descend from the sky and land at a fire. There arose this God and it was all black. It was a God of war and it killed all, including whites. Their bullets could not kill it, so powerful as a dying white screamed the word Phoenix.

Then the old man collapsed to death, his eyes staring up as he faced northward in utter terror. The Apache brave stood up and told another what he was told by the dead Pima. The word spread and they all gazed northward to whatever this new God was, called Phoenix.

April 20th 1999 1:45 PM Encino California:

Danny Wadell stood off Ventura Blvd. by his Hummer dealership. He was waiting as the Hummer rolled forward toward a flatbed to carry it to his destination. I really have to admire you Mister Wadell. That is one beautiful machine. The Texas folks will like this. Bulletproof glass and tanks, extra security features, run flat system. Why this machine, like all Hummers, can go just about anywhere.

You’re damned right. Now quit standing around and help him out. That’s what you’re being paid for, Danny snapped back instead of the casual thanks.

2:21PM Beverly Hills Mall:

There were news choppers flying around, and the DEA agents had all their guns drawn, people ducking for cover. It’s over, throw down your weapons, an officer called out on the megaphone.

The shots flew in their direction as one struck a mall window to a Diamond Retailer breaking the glass around him.

He returned fire at the thugs as this quickly turned into a shooting gallery of sorts, people running for their lives trying not to get hit.

One cop chased a thug down an access hallway where the thug turned and the cop dropped him like a bad habit, in his own pool of blood.

Another firefight occurred in the underground parking garage where a driver tried to make a getaway and Detective Jamie Giles shot the windshield as the car swerved into a concrete pillar, the car bursting into flames.

Jamie then rushed to get to the driver, but it was too late as he was consumed in the fire, his horrifying screams as his life was burnt to a crisp.

11:44PM Downtown Federal Building:

Jamie and other officers were before a Federal Justice as he signed off on the papers. Hell of a day, Jamie remarked, weapons transfer in hand. It’s all set. Tomorrow we get the main load shipped east," he winked at the others, pocketing the valuable papers. They started walking down the hallway.

That damned shootout was nothing short of being in the wild west, another of the officers chided.

Yeah, Jamie smiled. It was a rough and tumble one this time around.

April 21st 1999 9:38AM, DEA warehouse, Los Angeles California:

They were loading the large munitions containers recently seized in a landmark drug bust, into the back of the trucks. The boxes contained all sorts of weapons and ammunition headed for Texas to be delivered by the cargo carrier Skyway Arizona.

Once in Texas, the seized contraband would be stored for the trial there. It had been a successful operation and cost some their very lives.

11:42AM

John was the captain of this cargo flight, and he watched from a window as the Hummer was being loaded up on the custom hydraulic belly lift of the jet. He just shook his head as the stewardess Nancy approached behind him. Guests with this load, she questioned in a rather dubious manner, raising a brow?

Yes there are, John replied breaking a grin, and then turning his attention to the loading gate. He waved at the security and then proceeded ahead to the jumbo jet as she paced him.

Well, I guess there will not be too many as usual, she added, as they both made their way into the 747.

Coffee, black, he told her laying his gear down in the cockpit and studying the gauges. Should be a nice day for a flight. After Texas, we need to head to Indianapolis, then Jersey City, then home. Feel like a little gambling before we depart the east coast?

Yes, Nancy smiled. Slots for me, maybe an overnighter, she winked. John turned around, a decent smile upon his face.

1:25PM

Soon his co-pilot Jim joined and they had the plane loaded up as the last of the passengers arrived. They were all seated, a brash looking chap, one that looked like he might be law enforcement, another scrawny guy with glasses and turtle eyes.

One woman looked like a Native American Indian or perhaps a Latina, a tall blonde haired woman who approached the brash looking guy, taking a seat next to his arrogant persona.

The Latina and the blonde didn’t have much for each other nor the stewardess as she walked the first class isle studying them.

The stewardess and the blonde had a right-off-the-bat issue and it was evident to others as well. Additional folks came onboard the cargo carrier flight, having booked passage for a cheaper rate than a conventional passenger airline would charge. Overall, it appeared a great bargain as the jet’s engines spun up.

Soon the 747 was taking off and into the air as all appeared well for the time being.

November 2567 8:32AM in the morning:

It was a large automated complex as a mechanical arm swiveled taking aim down a very long tunnel of a red liquid. Moments later a long bolt of energy was discharged in this time experiment and it reached the end causing a momentary brilliant flash.

Meanwhile the 747 was flying back in April 21st 1999 at a pretty good clip as it flew over the Yuma area where sudden turbulence caused the cup of coffee to go flying, dowsing the radio communications of the craft.

It was a silent moment as the co-pilot Jim Realth, tried to wipe it clean. Then there was more turbulence, this time as the two jet engines at the outer position, each wing, both blew out at the same time. They left a long trail of smoke across the sky. Damned, John remarked grabbing both controls. We lost two engines. If we lose another one, we could be in trouble."

They’re smoking bad, captain, Jim informed them as the stewardess Nancy entered.

Our passengers are riled up, asking what is going on.

Tell them it’s okay, just a little turbulence, John instructed her as Jim turned to him, throwing John the eye, which case John just shrugged it all off.

John, they aren’t stupid…they can see the smoke by looking out the windows. she responded as Jim glanced at her a moment, then back at John.

I’m the co-pilot here John and that was not standard turbulence we just hit, he replied glancing at Nancy one last time before concentrating on another issue.

June 1885, 10 miles East of Gila Bend Arizona:

Two cowpokes sat at their early morning campfire, the flames all but dying down, while they sipped coffee. Tiny was a large burlesque feller, with a broad rimmed hat. He stood up, grasping his Winchester carbine, sensing something was wrong.

His scrawny sidekick Gus, was a somewhat thinner feller, with a peaked goatee. He continued sipping, ignoring Tiny.

While Gus slurped the hot Java, Tiny began walking towards the western facing ridge. There was something in the air, something very out of place. It was not the Apaches that spooked him, but something else.

Of course, the Apache Sub-Chief Nanchez, had been reeking havoc upon the whole area, keeping folks in their towns. He'd been brutally merciless to his victims, who were better off dead than his captive.

Gus, come 'ere, Tiny called.

Gus sipped a little more coffee, and then stood up, tossing the rest on the fire, which extinguished the flames. He dusted his hat off, and then seated it on his head, fixing its brim.

Tiny heard the noise growing louder as he turned, focusing his attention on Gus. Ya hear that? he