It backed up and clamped to the nosewheel of the Citation.“Guys,” I said to my passengers, “If you get back in the plane, they’ll unload you a... the FBO. I think your transportation’s there.”“Look Cindy,” one of them said, “We owe you big time. We’ll be in touch.”“Guys, really. It’s nothing.” The tractor with my little Citation followed two empty (darn! Made a trip for NOTHING!) ambulances and three crash trucks. The ambulances and crash trucks went their own way. I rode with Mister Lackman back. She woke to the brash, startling sound of the smoke alarm somewhere in the house, outside of the bedroom door, she thought in a clear second. Then the realization came full upon her that the house was filled with smoke. At least her bedroom was filled with smoke. She heard from somewhere outside a great deal of clatter and realized that it was the sound of fire engines. Someone had apparently seen the smoke and had reported it. She decided instantaneously on two things. She grabbed her laptop. More

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