This is the second part of a two-part article. You can read part I here

Bad guys had just brought down the World Trade Towers, smashed into the Pentagon, and wiped out a perfectly good field in Pennsylvania. Revenge was ours to be had, but first, I had to get my flight-grounded ass back to Las Vegas ASAP.

The solution was simple enough in my mind: there would be no more of this flying business for who knew how long. I would grab a car and motor my way back to Vegas! But… and this is a huge but… our Chief of Staff for the company I worked for somehow knew far better what was best for me than I ever could fathom.

The Chief’s Orders

This is how the exchange between us both went down, passed in duplex fashion through my boss and brother (Delta) James Nelson “Conan” Sudderth (que en gloria esté):

The late James Nelson “Conan” Sudderth, 1st SFOD-D

The late James Nelson “Conan” Sudderth, 1st SFOD-D

“geo won’t be permitted to drive by himself; it’s too dangerous.”

“Well, geo low and behold found him a fellow stranded passenger who is also trying to get back to Vegas and willing to travel with and split the driving.”