Here's a story I wrote a while back.

The Avenger’s Ghost


I.

Jack Otwell yawned and rubbed his face. “Remind me why I’m spending half my Christmas break on the road to Texas?”

Nik looked out the car window at the flat Texas fields, now lit by an early morning sun. “We’re going to see the New Year’s Eve air show with Heather’s Uncle Roy.” Nik yawned as well. They had driven most of the night, taking turns at the wheel. Her turn had come some hours before, with Lindy riding shotgun to keep her awake. Lindy had gone on and on about all sorts of interesting and intellectual subjects that Nik could no longer remember. “How much farther have we got?”

Glenn Greeson, in the driver’s seat, sleepily did a few calculations. “I think we’ve got about another two hours. I’m going to pull over at the next town so we can have breakfast. That ought to wake Heather up enough to finish the trip.”

Although Heather had been to the area before, she was not the best at following directions. Fortunately she did not get too lost. Glenn, trying to make her feel better, figured that they had not lost more than half an hour. Everybody felt more than ready to stop when they pulled up at Uncle Roy and Aunt Jenny’s house.

After the introductions and the hugs Uncle Roy showed them their guest rooms (Aunt Jenny was not home) and let them settle in and take naps. Following naps they had lunch. And then Uncle Roy led them out to Lone Star Airfield for the afternoon.

Lone Star Airfield looked like a normal modest-size air field. It had runways, hangers, lots of open space (of course, that wasn’t hard to find in most parts of Texas), and a little terminal with a stubby control tower. Nik counted a dozen or so single-engine aircraft and four or five twin-engine planes. Two of the latter looked quite a bit bigger than the others.

“Looks like somebody has plenty of room for friends on those two,” Heather remarked, pointing at the same two planes that Nik had noticed.

“Those are actually commercial aircraft,” said Uncle Roy, a middle-aged man in coveralls with “Lone Star Airfield” on them. Though he was not impressively large or tall, he had a straight, military look to him. Nik had no trouble believing that he was a former Air Force pilot. “They belong to a regional flying service called Davis Airlines. We get the occasional executive jet here as well. But mostly what we have flying out of this field are pleasure aircraft. And the Lone Star Air Force, of course. Now that y’all have come so far, I guess you’re ready to see the sights, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah!” said Jack. Now that they had finished the long car ride he looked wide awake and ready to go.

Uncle Roy had them pile into an old pickup truck and drove off across the field to the other side. Lindy and Heather got to ride in the cab. Nik found herself out with the guys. By the time they had made the short trip they felt as though they had been out in a winter storm. Jack frantically rubbed his hands together to warm them after dismounting from the truck bed. “Man, I didn’t know Texas got this cold in the winter! Sure glad Heather’s uncle doesn’t live in Minnesota!”

This section of the field had larger and older hangars than the place where they had come in. “These buildings look like they date back to World War II,” Lindy observed.

“They do,” Uncle Roy said. “This was one of many fields built out west during the war to train all those thousands of pilots the country needed then. After the war it remained in service until the early 1960s. As the need for large numbers of aircraft declined, they shut less important fields like this one down. In the 1970s it reopened as a civilian field.

“This section of the field stood around vacant for years until the Lone Star Air Force was formed and leased it. Those old hangars suited us just right. All they needed was a little fixing up. Okay, here’s where the real tour commences! Are you ready to see some old warbirds?”

Naturally everybody was eager to see the planes. Uncle Roy began leading them into the various hangars. Over the next hour or so they saw a P-47 Thunderbolt fighter, a P-51 Mustang fighter, a B-24 bomber, an A-20 Havoc, C-46 and C-47 cargo planes, a couple of old trainers, and a Messerschmitt Bf 109 fighter. Uncle Roy gave technical specifications and historical details about each plane.

Every plane had its own story. “You see, after the war, there were tens of thousands of leftover aircraft of all kinds,” Uncle Roy explained, as they toured the first hangar. “It wasn’t like today, when it’s unusual to make more than a few hundred of any given aircraft. The surplus ended up all over the world, being used for all sorts of things. Many of them were just put in storage and came out decades later almost like new. That’s why even today there are aircraft from that time still flying.”

The P-47 and P-51 fighters had been in storage after the war and were eventually bought by wealthy former fighter pilots who wanted to relive their glory days. When they were no longer able to enjoy them they deeded them over to the Lone Star Air Force. “That helped the Lone Star Air Force Museum of Flying Foundation get our start,” said Uncle Roy. The B-24 had flown parts to isolated oil wells for many years. The A-20 had served as a cramped business executive aircraft.
The C-46 had flown cargo in South America for many years. The C-47 had been purchased by another country’s military, kept in storage for many years, and finally bought up looking almost like new by a company that specialized in scouring the world for old C-47s to fix up. “Even after being reconditioned an old C-47 costs less than a modern aircraft with the same capacity. That makes them attractive for flying services who need something they can fly a few days a week, instead of keeping in the air making money continually. After all these years there are still hundreds of C-47 variants flying all over the world. This particular one spent a few years with a small airline in the Caribbean. They went broke and sold it, and our foundation bought it.”

The Messerschmitt had a strange story. “I’ll tell you a secret. That’s actually not a Messerschmitt Bf 109. It’s really a Czech Avia S.199.”
“Never heard of that,” said Jack.

“Not many people have. The Germans had Czech factories build some of their Bf 109 airframes during the war. After the war they were left with a bunch of uncompleted airframes, but no engines for them. They did happen to have a lot of Junkers Jumo bomber engines. So they combined the parts to make a new aircraft. It didn’t work too well. In fact, it had awful handling characteristics. Pilots had lots of accidents in them.

“In 1948 the Czechs unloaded a lot of them on the Israeli Air Force. The Israelis were ready to take any fighter aircraft they could get. Within a year they had lost most of them to accidents. We’re not exactly sure what happened to this one after it was withdrawn from service. At some point it made it to the U.S. Eventually we got it. We re-engined it to improve its handling characteristics. Now we pretend it’s an authentic Messerschmitt, which very few people have.”

“What I want to know is where do you get the parts to keep these planes flying?” said Lindy.

“That’s a good question. Just as there were lots of surplus aircraft left, so there were large stocks of spare parts. A lot of them were locked away in warehouses and more or less forgotten. There are specialty outfits that go around tracking down and buying up these stocks for customers who might be able to use them.”

“I see. They’re like the businesses that deal in antique car parts. I suppose there are some especially rare items that you have to have specially fabricated now and then.”

“Yes, we can do that as well. It’s expensive! But it’s worth it to keep these old birds flying.”

Uncle Roy led them into yet another hangar. “This is our main work shop. Here you see our latest acquisition.” He gestured toward the large single-engine aircraft that occupied one side of the hangar.
“Wow!” said Jack. “Is that what I think it is?”

“It’s a TBM Avenger torpedo bomber,” said Lindy.

Uncle Roy confirmed Lindy’s identification. “There are perhaps a dozen of those left in flying condition today. We just recently bought one of them.”

“Where did you get it, Uncle Roy?” Heather asked.

“This was one of several flown for many years by the Canadian forestry service to drop loads of water and flame retardant on forest fires. A few years back they sold them off. This one was bought by an older flying buff named Pulaski who intended to fix it up. He had it almost ready to fly when he died. His family offered it for sale. We were really lucky to get it. We had just finalized the sale when a guy named Cartwright showed up offering a much higher price. He was furious!”

“I can believe that!” Jack said. “An opportunity to buy a plane like this doesn’t come up too often.”

“That’s the truth! Clyde Cartwright is one of the more notorious aircraft collectors out there. From what I’ve heard, he really wanted an Avenger for his collection. This might have been his only chance ever to get one in this condition. Collectors have been scouring the world for these aircraft for so long there aren’t many left that aren’t jealously locked away some place. There have even been cases of teams going out to the Arctic to recover aircraft that were lost during World War II! It’s amazing that our foundation has been able to form a collection this good as recently as we have.”

“I see you’re bringing us some more visitors, huh Roy?” called a voice from across the hangar. A tall man about Uncle Roy’s age walked strode toward the group. He wore mechanic’s coveralls. He did not wear a welcoming look on his face.

“Yes, this is my niece, Heather, and some of her friends. I invited them out to see the air show day after tomorrow. Everyone, this is Linc Marshall, the foundation’s chief mechanic.”

“Nice to see you’re taking care of business, Roy!” Mr. Marshall’s voice carried an edge of sarcasm. “Sorry I can’t stop and chat, boys and girls, but I’ve got a lot of aircraft to get checked out and ready for service.”

Marshall strode over to the other side of the plane. “Chad! You figured out anything yet about what’s going on with that engine?”

“Nothing yet!” called a voice. The visitors suddenly realized that a man stood on a mobile ladder on the far side of the Avenger’s massive engine.

“Craziest thing I ever saw!” muttered Marshall. He turned and walked away from the Avenger. “Like we didn’t have enough problems already! Confounded thing’s more trouble than it’s worth!” Marshall marched out of the hangar and disappeared.

Uncle Roy and the others now approached the man on the ladder. “Don’t let Linc get to you, Chad! You know how much pressure a perfectionist like him is under before a big event. Everyone, this is Chad Morrison, one of our principal mechanics.”

The man on the ladder turned to them and wiped his hands on a rag. A good bit younger than Uncle Roy and Mr. Marshall, he too wore mechanic’s coveralls. He did not seem any happier than Marshall.
“I have probed in every part of this engine and can’t figure out what’s going on with it, Mr. Nobel. It’s enough to make a man believe in ghosts! It’s like old Pulaski’s spirit is protesting someone else having his aircraft.”

“What’s all this about?” wondered Lindy.

“We’ve…had some odd things happening here lately,” Uncle Roy said. “Come on, let’s go. We have other treasures to see!”

Naturally Lindy and the others could not stop asking about the ghost business with the Avenger. Eventually Uncle Roy agreed to speak when they were in a hangar with nobody else present.

“We put the finishing touches on the Avenger’s remodeling a few weeks ago,” Uncle Roy began. “As soon as we had finished, weird things began to happen. Little malfunctions began to develop, for no apparent reason. The controls and instruments would start acting up. We’d get the plane on the ground and take a look at it, and there’d be nothing wrong.

“The malfunctions have gradually gotten worse. A few days ago Walt Carter, one of our main pilots, experienced a sudden electrical failure in the air. If Walt hadn’t been the pilot he is he could have crashed! Once again, we found nothing wrong when we checked.

“The weirdest incidents have been occurring at night. Three times in the last two weeks the night watchman has heard that Avenger’s engine start when there was nobody here. We just can’t figure that one out.”

“Couldn’t somebody be sneaking in and starting the engine and then running out before the watchman could get inside the hangar?”

“I suppose so, Linda. But starting a 1,900 horsepower 1940s aircraft engine isn’t as simple as flipping a switch. That’s one of several aircraft in our collection that still use the old Coffman starter system. The engine can’t be started without a special cartridge.”

Lindy put her hand to her chin. “Hmmm. That’s interesting.”

“What’s a Coffman starter system?” Glenn asked.

Lindy did not let Uncle Roy have the chance to explain. “A Coffman starter uses an explosive cartridge to start an engine. The hot gases from the explosion are channeled into the engine and turn the engine over. Coffman starters were used on large engines before electrical starter systems became developed enough to do the job.”

“Very impressive, young lady! How is it that you know about Coffman starters?”

“My dad builds custom engines. He’s worked on a couple of dragster engines that used Coffman starters.”

“But what makes that important with this plane starting up all of a sudden, Uncle Roy?”

“Don’t you see, Heather? It takes a cartridge to start that engine. Yet people who arrive on the scene only a few minutes afterward never find any spent cartridges. I guess somebody who knows what he’s doing could extract it quickly and get away. But that doesn’t explain where the cartridges for that engine come from in the first place. They don’t exactly grow on trees anymore! In fact, we make our own. I keep them under lock and key in my office. They’ve all been accounted for.”

Lindy stroked her long, red hair. Nik had noticed her doing that before when she was deep in thought. “Who actually loads these cartridges for you?”

“Linc Marshall makes them in his machine shop at home. He has a collection of antique firearms that sometimes require special loads. Linc has an amazing array of talents. He’s a good pilot, a fine mechanic, and can make just about anything with his hands.”

“He doesn’t seem like much of a people person!” Heather declared. “And he doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

“Linc’s usually a lot nicer than that. He probably had a bad morning. This trouble with the Avenger has him on edge. On top of getting ready for the air show! I am a little put out at that crack about me taking care of business. I’ve been putting in my fair share of hours!” Uncle Roy sighed. “Once in a while Linc makes little hints that maybe I’m overworked handling the technical side of the foundation as well as my usual job managing the airport. I think he wouldn’t mind taking my slot with the foundation, if he didn’t like getting his hands dirty with the engines so much. But really, he’s usually a nice guy, and we usually get along all right.”

Linda continued her questioning. “Who does most of the work on that particular airplane?”

“Mostly Chad, and Linc himself. They’re our resident experts on the Wright 2600 engine series. Linc’s been spending a lot more time on it lately, trying to figure out what’s going on. As I said back at the hangar, Linc is a perfectionist. If something isn’t working right, he can’t rest until it is. I think that’s one reason he has been so stressed.”

Uncle Roy sighed again. “That’s enough about our `ghost’ problem for now. We need to finish up this tour and get back home.”

Lindy did not say much as they followed Uncle Roy’s truck back home. The car was also made quieter by the absence of Glenn and Jack, who were riding with Uncle Roy. Not having Jack along especially helped!

“They sure hit it off with Uncle Roy,” Heather said. “They’re probably going to spend the rest of the evening out in his shop with him! Too bad Aunt Jenny’s out of town this evening visiting relatives. Looks like it’ll be just us.”

“Good!” said Lindy. “While the guys keep your uncle occupied, we can go back to the airport to have a look around.”

“Why would we need to do that?” asked Heather.

“That ought to be obvious! We’re going to see if we can find out what this ghost business is about!”


II.

Lone Star Airfield was too small to have very tight security. Heather said hello to the evening manager—whom she had met a couple of times before—and they were in. They drove to the older part of the air field and parked. The still night air chilled the three of them through their jackets—even the warm-natured Nik.

Heather glanced toward several vehicles parked nearby. “It looks like there are other people here.”

“Not too surprising,” said Lindy. “They must be preparing the planes for the air show. Let’s see now…I believe that hangar over there houses the Avenger. Right Nik?”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” They started in the hangar’s direction.

“So, have you got any suspects?” asked Nik.

“Suspect number one is that Linc Marshall!” asserted Heather.

Lindy played with a strand of her hair again. “Yes, he is the main suspect at the moment. He has a possible motive—making trouble for your uncle. He has regular access to the plane. And he knows how to make Coffman starter cartridges. Still, he isn’t the only suspect. Chad Morrison also has access to the plane. There are probably several others as well.”

They approached the workshop hangar that housed the Avenger. A side door stood open. Inside they saw a man working by the glare of the hangar’s lights. He happened to glance in the direction of the door at just the right moment to see them.

“Hey, what are you three doing here at night?” They now recognized the mechanic as Chad Morrison.

Nik and Heather froze. Spotted already, and by a potential suspect no less! Nik glanced nervously at Lindy.

Lindy turned her face down toward the hangar floor, with a kind of shy smile. She put her hands behind her back and her right foot behind her left. “Oh, the guys had their own stuff to do, so we thought we’d come back here. It’s such an interesting place.” Her voice sounded a little softer and higher than usual. She looked up, still smiling, her big blue-grey eyes wide. “You don’t suppose you could take a minute to show us around, could you?”

Nik could hardly believe her eyes. She had seen Heather act shy and coy like this before. But not Lindy!

“Well, this isn’t a good place to be hanging around at night. I could get in trouble letting unauthorized people hang around the shop.”

“Oh, Mr. Nobel wouldn’t mind. Would he, Heather?”

“Uh, no, Uncle Roy wouldn’t mind at all.”

Morrison took a good look at Lindy. His face softened a bit. “Guess I can take a break for a few minutes. So, what are you interested in?”

Lindy began asking various questions about the plane’s Wright 2600 engines. Nik knew a thing or two about mechanics herself, growing up on a farm and all. Lindy’s questions went way beyond her. She talked about compression ratios, and gearing ratios, and so on. Morrison seemed a bit bewildered to have a girl asking him such educated questions. Lindy of course had to explain about her father’s line of work. “Daddy’s always been curious about those Wright series engines. He would never forgive me if I didn’t find out everything I can while I’m here!”

Lindy also asked about the tools and equipment in the work shop. Morrison, seeming more relaxed now, gladly answered all her questions. Every few moments Lindy pointed at something and asked about it. While Morrison turned his attention to that item, Lindy would take a quick glance around. She’s got him eating out of her hand, thought Nik. She had never dreamed that Lindy could be such an actress.

“If you want to see some more 2600 series engines, the B-24’s got them,” Morrison said. “Its hangar is right near here.”

“Oooo, that would be nice! Come on girls, let’s go check that one out.”
The mechanic led them out of the hangar, Lindy bouncing along beside him as if she were on a date. Nik halfway expected her to take his arm. She began asking him questions about himself. Could he fly a plane himself? No, he was just a mechanic. How long had he been a mechanic here? About two years. How many other mechanics did they have?

The hangar toward which they headed had one of its main doors open.
A man walked across the great pool of light streaming from the hangar. Morrison stopped. “Uh-oh, that’s Linc Marshall! Looks like he might be coming this way! He’d better not see you.”

“I can believe that,” said Lindy. “He’d probably get mad at Mr. Nobel if he saw us here too! Please don’t let him know we’re here.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll go over and see what he wants. I needed to ask him something anyway. You girls get out of sight!”

Lindy, Nik, and Heather ran around the side of the nearest hangar and waited in the cold darkness. After a few moments Lindy had Nik take a look around. “Nobody here now,” she reported.

“Okay, that’s good! Come on, let’s get back into that work shop. We just might be able to look around for a minute while nobody else is there.”

Lindy’s hopes were realized. The big work shop stood empty of other people. Nik looked around at all the assorted tools and equipment stands. They filled parts of the hangar with weird shadows. At the center of the huge area stood the Avenger torpedo plane, dominating the space with its presence. The haunted torpedo plane, Nik reminded herself with a shiver.

Lindy walked out onto the shop’s floor and pointed up at the big, thick rafter that ran right over the center of the great open space. “I saw something suspicious up there a few minutes ago. I’d like to have a look at it. Heather, you go to the door and keep a lookout. Let us know if anybody’s coming.”

“But Lindy, what are you….”

“Just go, Heather! We probably don’t have much time!”

Heather obediently walked out to the door. Lindy looked around for a moment and then headed for a large structure of metal beams and poles on wheels. Nik guessed that the mechanics used it for handling engines and other large components.

What she saw next startled her. Lindy jumped up onto the structure and began climbing and swinging her way to the top of it. “Lindy, be careful!”

“Nik, just be quiet and listen in case Heather signals to us.” Lindy had already mounted to the top of the tall structure.

“Okay. But do be careful!” Nik noticed that they were both speaking in a loud whisper, as if afraid of being overheard. They had been speaking that way ever since Morrison had left them.

“That’s the most unnecessary advice you’ll ever give. Now please be quiet and don’t distract me.”

Nik watched as Lindy stood on the uppermost part of the service structure. She recalled Lindy’s once having admitted to being a cheerleader and gymnast in high school. Nik hoped that Lindy had kept in practice!

The frame sat almost right underneath the ceiling beam, a perfect place for someone to use it to reach the beam. Lindy had little trouble pulling herself up onto the beam. Arms extended, she carefully walked along it for several steps, an incongruous figure in her skirt and the heavy tights that kept her legs warm.

Lindy stopped and knelt on the beam for a moment. Then she stood, carefully turned, and walked back along the beam to the structure that she had used as a ladder. Within a few minutes she was safely back on the floor. Nik could start breathing freely again.

“You just about scared the life out of me!”

“Me too!” Lindy admitted. “I had a serious accident trying a stunt like that once. I was a lot more careful this time.”

“Hey!” Heather called from the door. “I think I see somebody coming!”
“How far away are they?” Lindy called back.

“Quite a way. Ooops, they just turned toward another hangar.”

“Sounds like now’s our chance to get out,” said Nik.

“You’re right. Hold it, what’s that?”

Lindy turned to look at the Avenger. It had begun to make a high-pitched, mechanical whining sound. The propeller slowly began to turn. Suddenly with a kind of coughing sound the propeller began spinning. A puff of smoke poured from the engine’s exhaust.

The Avenger’s engine had just started. And there was nobody sitting in the cockpit!