After crossing the room, Mr. Crawford takes his seat (which has been marked with a placard indicating that it is reserved for members of the Madison Venturers, his squadron). After recommending the bistro's veal, Crawford dispenses with the pleasantries and gets down to business...

Loyle Crawford: "Well, Miss White. Shall we make your readers happy?"

Warriors of the Air: (Chuckle.) "Ah, the direct approach, Major Crawford?'

LC: (Smiles.) "Always, Miss White. And please, it's Loyle."

W: "Alright, Loyle. Let's start at the beginning. How did you become interested in flying?"

LC: "Well, my interest actually grew out of a desire to join the Broadway Bombers. A number of my peers had already signed up after the Empire State left the old United States, and, to be honest, I felt a bit left out."

W: "I see... so it was peer pressure?"

LC: (Pauses.) "Perhaps, at first. Really, though, this town is my home. I couldn't very well let others stand up and do the job while I stayed at home. It's really as simple as that."

W: "So, you were interested more in becoming a soldier than a pilot?"

LC: (Laughs.) 'Well, I did find aircraft fascinating. Most of my friends had flown before, mostly civilian pleasure craft. So, naturally, they wanted to be in the air militia. So did I. The flight training cemented that desire."

W: "How?"

LC: (smiles ruefully.) "Well, my instructors will probably tell you different, but after I had my first training flight, I just knew. I knew I had to be a pilot. I realized that my plane would do whatever I told it to. I put the plane - a little two-seater training bird - through a series of loops and dives, and even an Immelman turn. (Laughs.) Of course, my flight trainers used to dress me down for being too reckless."

W: "But what about combat? I understand the fascination with flight, but strapping into a fighter and pitting your craft against pirates or enemies of the Empire State is something altogether different..."

LC: "Different? Sure. Better? Absolutely. Combat can be frightening, but I'll be honest... I've never felt more alive. When pirates are blazing away, and bullets are zinging past you... when your plane's engine is screaming as you pull a high-g turn and get the drop on someone who seconds ago was about to kill you... (pauses) It's thrilling. "

W: "I'm, er, reluctant to bring this up ..."

LC: (Laughs.) "Uh, oh..."

W: "There have been some rather scandalous stories about you in the popular media, including Air Action Weekly. Specifically, I'm referring to some stories about you and other members of the Broadway Bombers frequenting an illegal club - the Starry Skies club in Manhattan..."

LC: "Well, reporters are always looking for scandal. It sells papers. There's really nothing more I can say about it that I haven't said already. No comment."

W: "Putting aside the Starry Skies Club matter-"

LC: "Please do."

W: "-You've gathered a reputation for recklessness and audacity. Care to comment on that?"

LC: "Sure. 'Recklessness' to the casual observer is unpredictability in combat. If I can constantly keep my opponent surprised, he's going to have a much harder time downing me. I'm not reckless... I just know what I'm doing."

W: (Chuckles.) "Some would say that remark was arrogant."

LC: (Smiles.) "Some would. I'm not arrogant, though. I'm just right."

W: "Having flown in a battle against pirates upstate, I can say that fear is a powerful motivator. What is the scariest moment you've faced?"

LC: "Hmmm... good question. I guess it was after a raid on the Hell's Henchmen in the Alleghenies. We rattled their cages, and made our way home. But during the battle, I took some damage from a flak rocket. I didn't pay much attention to it ... at first. It wasn't until we were coming in to land that I started to have some problems.

"The pirate flak rocket had wedged some pretty large pieces of metal in the landing gear of my plane... I couldn't get the gear to crank down. Worse, we were landing in bad weather. Thunder, lightning ... the works.

"I tried everything I could think of: I put the plane through a series of high-velocity turns, hoping to shake the gear loose, but no dice. I tried using the manual hand crank to wind the gear down, but it was jammed.

"I had no choice: I had to land gear up on a hard surface runway. The plane flipped over a couple times, and came to a rest near some fuel drums. I barely got out before the whole thing blew. I got away with a couple muscle pulls and some scratches. Pretty lucky, all in all.

Next Issue >>