"Ummmm -- the periphery of one of 'em, yeah."

"Hauling people or cargo? Or both?"

Heh. Time to play the "My Ops Are Blacker Than Your Ops" game.

"Neither. Gunships."

*eyes opening wider* "Whoa! You're flying Spectre?"

"Nope. Cobras. Goggle stuff."

"Cobras? *Helicopters*?"

"Yeah. I like to get close enough to see the look on their faces."

*blink* "Uhhhhh."

*grin*

New kids. I love it when they go speechless...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

However, karma must equalize, so my payback was that the Cobra I was supposed to fly for recurrent training isn't flyable anymore. Got feelers out to the usual places (there actually *are* a couple of de-mil'ed Cobras with civil registrations out there), but in the meantime, my employer decided -- and rightly so -- that

1. it would be a waste of funds to keep me cooped in a motel here in the scenic South and

2. my scrounging talents would be better utilized at the personal level, rather than electronically.

Yup. I have a mission (and contacts) to obtain some unobtainables. Still working the telecommuting details, but tomorrow this afternoon, I launch into the Danger Zone.

New Jersey.

And KtLW's honeydew list.

I'd almost rather be getting shot at...