Two days later and Mike, dressed in a suit, white shirt and tie with a document wallet is sitting in the reception of Air America - it’s a modest and understated office, the company’s "soaring eagle wings" logo mounted above a front desk on beige wood veneer. As Mike waits patiently, he listens to fragments of conversations as a few hopeful young pilots, ground and air crew keep the receptionists busy as they arrive for appointments for open job listings.

Eventually a man emerges from the back office and asks for Mike and they walk down a corridor and enter a small meeting room.

There’s no exchange of pleasantries as they sit down across a bare table - a long neglected office plant wilting in the corner is the only other notable furnishing. Mike pulls out his resume and passes it to the older man who proceeds to review it in studied silence. A minute or so passes and then the man sits back and lights a cigarette. Mike declines the offer to smoke and nothing is said as the other man gets to his feet to crack open a window which admits the drum of Midtown Manhattan on a weekday - the noisy American machine.

"I’m Paul by the way," says the man finally in a soft southern drawl.

"Nice to meet you, Paul."

There’s another long silence as Paul stares out across the rooftops at the 17th floor.

"OK, well some logistics experience, good with numbers, combat experience and leadership - purple heart obviously - plenty of flying time in ’sporting conditions’ - perhaps we could find a ground job for you, or maybe its management or finance, somewhere, eventually - but I don’t see that’s really a fit here," he finally says.

Mike nods and there is another considered pause from the man at the window.

"Can I ask you what motivated you to get in touch with his, Mr Hand."

"Please call me Mike."

The man nods, waiting for Mike’s answer.

"I guess it’s that I left the states 4 years ago to do my duty - I came back and now its like things are changing so fast.....and I’m not sure I get it anymore, like what was I fighting for?" he says after a moment, shaking his head.

"OK, please go on," says Paul

"Perhaps I just want to stay in the fight - for the America that I believe in," Mike finally says.

Paul looks at him for a moment, a slight smile on the face of the older man.

"We get a few men in here saying that every to be honest," Paul says. "I’m not sure if Mr Shackley might have mentioned but we also work with some other associated organisations from time to time," he continues.

Mike shakes his head.

"Not part of the company, as such, but people they - and we - like to do business with and who we help out occasionally in our mutual interests. Just as they do favours for us - when needed," Paul continues.

"OK," Mike acknowledges, not sure where the conversation is going.

"We wouldn’t normally offer to do this, but Ted Shackley has pretty deep draw around here, so I think we can stretch a little on this occasion - there’s a few people I have in mind but you’d have to be patient and no guarantees - but if something does open up, you’d need to be ready to go where required at short notice. It’s just the way these things generally work. Does that sound acceptable, Mr Hand?"

Mike nods and something signifies that the meeting is now at an end. He stands, smiling widely and the two men shake hands.

"There is one other thing - if something does come up, you’d come in as a contractor - no security, no guarantees and no protection. You could be asked to do things.....and, if things go wrong, we or they might deny hiring you or even meeting with you. You understand?"

Mike nods again move towards the door to leave but Paul tells him to wait, turns to pick up Mike’s resume from the table.

"You’d better take this, not the sort of thing that you’d want to leave lying around," Paul says

"You don’t you need to keep it on file?"

Paul just taps his temple as if to say ’safer up here’.

Next Chapter: Chapter 7 - Mike goes home briefly