Journeys of Abigail

This is the story of Abigail, Jerry, and Jake (me). Abby is a DC-3 cargo plane that makes cargo runs in Central America, and a bit of Mexico. I signed on three years ago to work with Jerry, who owns the plane. What we do isn't exactly above board, but it is fun, exciting, and a bit dangerous. I get a chance to get online once each day, mostly in the wee hours of the morning.

A bit about myself. I am 46 years old, an ex-biker with a penchant for old planes and a tool kit. I have worked on aircraft for the last 20 years and haven't met one that I haven't been able to figure out. Abby is an old girl, but she has a lot of life left in her. Jerry inheirited her from his brother Mike who got to close the States and lost his life and cargo to the people who he was delivering to.

Now we stay away from the money... States. Jerry brings up a good point, and that is that the closer you get to the States, the more your cargo is worth, the more dangerous the run is, and the less your life is worth. Jerry is a long hair, quiet type who can drink a case of beer without pissing a drop, and fly a plane like nobodys business.

We live in the jungle off of an old airstrip in Northern Guatamala. El Corazon was on an old wooden sign when Jerry came here. He saved a man's life that came up short on his approach to that strip. Jerry was making an emergency landing after a bird strike took out out one of Abby's engines. On his approach, he saw the smoldering wreck of the man that owned the air strip and small hanger/barn that was built in the clearing. When he chocked Abby he made his way to the wreck and found the guy passed out, legs and wrists broken, in really bad shape. He managed to get him onboard Abby, clear the #2 engine and fire it, then flew him to one of the costal towns that had a small hospital.

Turns out that man was a drug runner, like most of the people who had airstrips in the middle of the jungle. He was broken up pretty damn good and had enough of the life. He basically gave El Corazon to Jerry, lock stock and barrel. Jerry made improvements to the place, and now I live there with him.

I met Jerry through his brother Mike, who ran helicopters out of San Diego, California. He had a couple of Citation Jets he needed upkeep on, and that is why he hired me. Little did I know that his absentee ownership was due to his other hobby, which involved flying illicit cargo from Central America and Mexico to the States. Mike and Jerry split the runs until Mike was killed in Northern Mexico. He took three in the chest because the load was short... something he wasn't party to. Jerry was there and escaped in a hail of gunfire, flying Abby home after she was shot to hell.
Well, that's all for now. Gotta go, yacht batteries are low, need to let them charge up in the sunlight tomorrow.