bits of discussion between tycoons about impending mergers or stock deals. Larry could have made a fortune from the information he gleaned but he was simply not interested. What concerned him was the airplane he flew, powerful and alive and in his control.
It was two months before Larry piloted Demiris himself.
They were in the Piper and Larry was flying his employer from Athens to Dubrovnik. It was a cloudy day and there was a report of wind storms and squalls along the route. Larry had carefully plotted out the least stormy course, but the air was so full of turbulence that it was impossible to avoid it.
An hour out of Athens he flashed on the“ seat belt” sign and said to Metaxas,“ Hold on, Paul. This may cost us both our jobs.”
To Larry’ s surprise Demiris appeared in the cockpit.“ May I join you?” he said.“ Help yourself,” Larry said.“ It’ s going to be rough.”
Metaxas gave up his seat to Demiris and Demiris strapped himself in. Larry would have preferred to have the copilot sitting next to him, ready to act if anything went wrong, but it was Demiris’ airplane.
The storm lasted almost two hours. Larry circled the large mountains of clouds that puffed up ahead of them, lovely white and deadly.
“ Beautiful,” Demiris commented.
“ They’ re killers,” Larry said.“ Cumulus. The reason they’ re so nice and fluffy is that there’ s wind inside of them puffing them up. The inside of that cloud can tear a plane apart in ten seconds. You can rise and fall thirty thousand feet in less than a minute with no control of your plane.”
“ I’ m sure you won’ t let that happen,” Demiris said calmly.
The winds caught at the plane and tried to fling it across the sky, but Larry fought to keep it under control. He forgot that Demiris was there, focusing his entire attention on the craft he was flying, using every skill he had ever learned. Finally they were out of the storm. Larry turned, drained, and found that Demiris had left the cockpit. Metaxas was in the seat.
“ That was a lousy first trip for him, Paul,” Larry said.“ I may be in trouble.”
He was taxiing down the small, mountain-ringed tabletop airport at Dubrovnik when Demiris appeared in the doorway of the cockpit.
“ You were right,” Demiris said to Larry.“ You’ re very good at what you do. I’ m pleased.”
And Demiris was gone.
One morning as Larry was getting ready to leave on a flight to Morocco, Count Pappas telephoned to suggest that he take Catherine driving through the countryside. Larry insisted that she go.