Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #281

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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #281

…Obviously they are not satisfied with Lyn’s answers, observations or anything else for that matter. She is no Constance Caraway…

'An Unreliable Witness' by Alice May Williams,

‘An Unreliable Witness’ by Alice May Williams,

Bob Ford was only able to stay the day, having to get his cargo to Los Angeles in the morning. He will make a couple trips forth and back to Hawaii, and then come back to New Mexico, hopeful of returning Lyn and a restored Sara to Florida.

My Project 19-001And then there is the matter of the military debriefing. The powers that be have not believed either Bob or Lyn’s claim of ignorance pertaining to that Boogie-woogieing bogey of the previous day. And did they really see that supposed explosion? The very same people, who want the two to admit to seeing the silver streak, to share every detail, would prefer they conveniently ignore that small mushroom cloud.

They will get to Ford upon his return.

For now, Carolyn Hanes will do just fine.

Storyteller-001   “Like I told, Sergeant Smith before, we were headed straight into the sun and the glare was so intense, we couldn’t see a thing,” she explains to a panel that resembles the Supreme Court. (Sgt. Vincent Smith is too small a fish for this pond) There is so much decoration on these men that it has to be a burden to their chests and shoulders.

“You must have been watching your instruments then. Did you notice anything unusual, you know, spinning, bouncing needles, loss of power?” This inquisitor had to be a general and he gives the impression that Holloman’s fighter pilots report the same problems with their instrumentation as the DC-3.

“Captain… I mean, Mr. Ford had us entering our final approach. It appeared to be perfectly normal to me, he even asked me if I wanted to land his plane, but I’m used to my Cub. I really should have had a New York telephone book to sit on, I could barely see out of the front windows, though I did see the welcoming committee. That was a nice touch.”

Quite a storyteller is this one.

“That wasn’t a welcoming committee Miss Hanes, they were scrambled because we thought you were in danger.”

“Danger? Do you mean from that huge explosion that happened after we landed. Boy that was something… isn’t the war over?” so much for taking the edge off, because nobody was laughing.

“You are at a highly sensitive military facility Ma’am. We are testing new weapons on a regular basis.”

  Lyn had done a little research about the White Sands Missile Range before they left New York. She knows that would be northwest, not northeast, of the air base. The explosion they had seen yesterday probably killed a herd of cattle or ruined the paint job on some farmer’s new pick-up truck, but she will go along with the program, for the sake of staying out of the way of men who see what they want to see, facts be damned.

“That would be a good one, Sir!” She could not resist just one more jab.

There seems to be an inordinate amount of whispering going on. Obviously they are not satisfied with Lyn’s answers, observations or anything else for that matter. She is no Constance Caraway.

“If you would remember something important, please let us know. Otherwise, that will be all. Thank you for your cooperation.”

The ten men file out of the room empty handed, unaware of how much a threat they were leaving behind. Lyn Hanes is an even better witness than she is an actress and she has seen two events that seemingly defy conventional relevance. She will guard what she knows carefully, just as she had done today, but is not about to let a sleeping dog lay. Whatever the story is, it will not escape her. The authoress’ little put-on establishes her as an unknown and non-quantifiable menace.


Alpha Omega M.D.

storyteller-daniel-armstrong

Storyteller by Daniel Armstrong

Episode #281


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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #277

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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #277

…How can a person disappear with nary a trace and then show up six years later, without knowing what had gone on in the intervening years… six blankety-blank years…

Blankety Blank-001

Properly fueled and inspected, Bob Ford & Carolyn Hanes are soon winging their way across the country. The early part of the flight is spent catching up on things. That is easy. Bob works. Lyn works. So tales of working are swapped, which for a pilot and a writer, not entirely dull or uninteresting. Lyn has a first draft of her current C. C. Private Eye book, still untitled to give Bob Ford. Ford gives her the only copy of his diary about the final “Pacific” Clipper flight, hoping that Lyn would find it interesting enough to pen, which is a given.

  Later, after Lyn had gotten her crack in the pilot’s seat of the gage-strewn cockpit, spelling Ford who had come to New York via Toronto for his load of film, risking his certification by flying into La Guardia without a co-pilot or navigator, the real reason for this junket is discussed.

How can a person disappear with nary a trace and then show up six years later, without knowing what had gone on in the intervening years… six blankety-blank years, Bob? Like they didn’t happen? That is the kind of fiction that I cannot fathom.” Dumbfounding a writer is hard to do. “Did you say they told you that she was wearing the same dress as when she vanished? You would think that puff-of-smoke would have been that man in the navy blue suit.”

 “You remember that?”

The Vanished Flame by lowjacker deviantart.com

The Vanished Flame by lowjacker deviantart.com

  “Oh, yes and the brand of perfume and how she had her hair fixed. Did they take a picture of her, you know, when they first found her?”

  “I believe so. I guess we’ll find out in a few hours.”

  “I’m going to lie down in back, this messes up my mind and I need to be fresh.”

  “There is a cot, but at 25,000 feet, you’ll need a few blankets. I’ll wake you when I make my approach to Holloman AFB. Wanna land this thing?”

  “We’ll see, Bob.”


Alpha Omega M.D.

DC-3 Cockpit

Episode #277


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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #273

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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #273

…”I’m in need of a co-pilot for a flight to New Mexico.”

“What?” That comes from so far in left field that Lyn is caught selling peanuts in the parking lot…

Old Telephone by Raymond Logan

Old Telephone by Raymond Logan

“I’m sorry, Lyn, I keep forgetting Sara is gone.”

The office phone rings, severing the air of “blue” reminiscence.

Typewriter-001“Mr. Rogers? There is a Robert Ford on the telephone. He claims to know Lyn.” The Harper Books receptionist relays the information.

  Rogers covers the mouthpiece with his free hand. “Do you know a Robert Ford?”

  “Robert Ford, I don’t,” one one-thousand, “oh, yes I do. If that is Captain Ford from Pan American Airways, let me speak to him.” Lyn hated the way things were left on Ceylon. “Captain Ford?”

“It is Citizen Ford, Miss Hanes, but you could call me Dirt and I wouldn’t mind.” He had called Lyn several times that first year, but had since given up on his quest for the lady’s heart. “I’m still flying, but its cargo, not passengers. My own plane, I’m proud to say.”

Planter S Peanut & the Nutmobile

Planter S Peanut & the Nutmobile

“Congratulations!” She resists asking him if he had lost any freight lately. There are times when Lyn needs to hold her tongue, despite the urge to the contrary.

“Thank you, but I’m in need of a co-pilot for a flight to New Mexico.”

What?” That comes from so far in left field that Lyn is caught selling peanuts in the parking lot.

“This whole deal may be a dead end, but I received a call from Terry Trippe this morning. He tells me that he got a call from an Air Force base out in New Mexico. They have an unidentified woman there, with what they think is amnesia. The one thing she keeps mentioning is the Clipper.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything quite yet; I just thought it would be worth going out there. I’ve got a load of celluloid for United Artists in Hollywood. How about me popping out to La Guardia, in say, two hours?”

Lyn doesn’t know what to think. She is awash in the newness of these developments, barely able to keep her mind from racing, getting her hopes up. Even false hope is better than the no hope she has lived with for six lonely years; six years of living someone else’s life (Constance and not very well as we found out) not her own.

 She would make one hell of a private eye and this is a great opportunity to ply that craft.

“Go,” urges Stanley Rogers. “I’ll take care of the old man… watch it, I know what you’re thinking Lyn?”

“Make it three hours and you’ll have your co-pilot. I bet you didn’t know that I have an expiring pilot’s license.”

“That doesn’t surprise me none and three hours it is… mark… that makes it 1624 Eastern Time.” Ford is nothing if not precise and probably the most unassuming hero you can find. “My plane is a white-over-gray DC-3 with Constance Caraway P. I. in yellow paint on both sides of the nose. I’ve become one of her biggest fans. I’m so glad she divorced that jerky congressman.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my editor that.”

Devoted readers are the best.


Alpha Omega M.D.

Blue Ridge Angel-001

Episode #273


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Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 4

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Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 4

…Let’s get our winter clothes packed and hit the road…

 Fanny points out that A-Bomb was tested out in the American Southwest..

img004

Fanny Renwick

“Yes,” deep breath, “but the spy was traced back to the Manhattan Project at Argonne National Laboratory, which is out west of Chicago.”

Fallow Deer of Argonne

“I didn’t know where we were. It looked like out by Campbell Lake, all the trees and country roads and such, though I did get some great pictures of those Fallow Deer.” Fanny was fascinated with animals, like these white deer, even took color pictures of something white.

“We were tailing a suspected double agent, that German spy in Ally clothing, on his way out to his drop area, not sightseeing for local animals.”

Constance fully expects to bring things into focus most times for Fanny, who disarms people in ways that her boss cannot. That occasional blank stare takes the attention away from Connie’s intense presence.

“You make sure Betty (the upstairs neighbor) looks after Molly. And tell her it may be a while this time. Let’s get our winter clothes packed and hit the road!

         A Christmas adventure is calling.

Having had a clarifying conversation with their prospective client Mr. Kamen, there is no doubt as to CCI’s involvement in the case of the missing the missing scientist, Mr. Willard Libby. There seems to be some problem getting unbiased P.I.’s in that city of Al Capone.

Constance and Fanny wait to board a Pan American DC-3, Flight 12 non-stop from Tallahassee Commercial Airport, a one runway operation, to the newly named Chicago Orchard [Douglas] Airport. Their fellow fliers, gathered in nice straight line, are an interesting mix of snow birds (an new trend for those who are originally from the north, but live in the south during the winter months) and holiday travelers (who want to experience the fairy-tale world of Christmas at Marshall Fields department store, on the famed Michigan Avenue of Chicago).

Not that any one would recognize either one of the women. Constance has her hair in a bun, dressed in a lace-collared blouse and calf-length shirt, looking every bit the 3rd grade school teacher. Fanny is wearing black rimmed glasses, like she would be helping you find a library book. Perfect disguises, “Two frumps on a log,” is how Connie put it.

They will need to blend into the college scene they are about to enter. If biochemist Martin Kamen is being watched by anyone, the two Floridian women cannot stand out any more than they already do; at 5’8 apiece, Constance and Fanny loom over most their gender brethren.


Constance Caraway P.I.

Forever Mastadon


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