“Are you okay, Mike? You’re looking like you ate a bug. Maybe a lot of them.”
Taz actually had to catch his arm. At the end of the four steps descending from the Citation M2 jet, he stumbled as if he expected the stairway to continue straight down into the pavement at the Frederick Municipal Airport. The place was quiet: private planes only, no commercial flights.
“It’s a small-town airport, Mike. Not the sort of place with a stairway straight down to the flaming pits of hell.”
“Says you. I just flew across the country. Solo. In a jet. For the first time ever! Give me a break.”
“Okay, any special requests? Tibia? Femur? Right arm or left? Maybe just a finger or two?”
“What, Taz? Not going to offer to snap my neck? Pity, it’s about the only thing that would help right now.”
But Taz al
