The crew chief looked up as the Large Zeppelin's engines coughed before catching, roaring to life one at a time.<br/><br/>He then looked at the assembled pilots and their assortment of planes. "Okay kids; unless there's anyone else coming to the party, I'm going to have to ask you lot to pile into one of the taxi carts nearby and keep an eye on yer planes as you head down to the airstrip. No questions, quick as you please!"<br/><br/>Several crewmen drove up with plane tows, allowing the planes to be taxied to the far edge of the airfield without burning the expensive avgas that filled their tanks, while the crew chief walked over to the quartet of pilots.<br/><br/>"Hmm. Was my understanding that there'd be two more of you. Anyhow, your potential employer," He paused to jab a finger upwards at the Zeppelin that was just beginning to disengage its mooring cables, preparing to lift off. "Wants you lot to pair up, read this message," He waved a small steel cylinder at the four, "And play find the zeppelin, before landing on it. Hope you have working landing hooks or you might take me literally. Good way to ruin a paintjob that way."<br/><br/>He took a long drag from his cig, then crushed the filter under his boot. "Now, any questions, or do I toss you onto the back of one of the taxis, and let you stew for the two hours it'll take for traffic control to let you go?"<br/><br/>~~~~~~~<br/><br/>Up above, in the<em>Blue Ridge</em>, the radio crackled to life with the Tower's confirmation of departure, though without the usual request for a flight path. After several moments, the tower came back on the radio, sounding amused. "<em>Blue Ridge</em>, have a message for you from a certain particularly large barman; Appears he's willing to hire you to pick up a multi-ton delivery for him from Denver, if you're up to it."<br/><br/>A moment later, the entire ship lurched slightly as the Mooring tower detached cleanly, leaving the<em>Blue Ridge</em>drifting backwards in air. Further above, and slightly aft of the bridge, Mister Johnston examined the small, but comfortable cabin he had been furnished with. Finally, satisfied that the cabin was not bugged, he unshackled himself from the briefcase, and removed the gunbelt holding his old service revolver. Looking around, he carefully stashed the briefcase in the upper luggage compartment before slowly massaging his wrist, then moved to the porthole built into the side of the ship's skin, watching the bustle of the airyard as the Zeppelin began to maneuver.<br/><br/>Finally, re-shackling himself to the briefcase, he stood, and found that the ship was more than just well-appointed; it even had a state-of the art intercom system to call other parts of the ship through an internal radio. Pressing the button to connect himself to the bridge, he spoke clearly, his deep voice almost rivaling the ship's engines for the rumble. "Captain Lamarr; permission to observe from the Bridge?"<br/><br/>Pulling his finger from the intercom, he waited patiently for a response, his former military life having bled into the wording he chose. Mentally shrugging, he tapped his fingers against the briefcase's side, before rebuckling his gunbelt in place. Hopefully he'd have no need for it.