Silent Partner

FEBRUARY 2003 Risk versus return. What can be lost versus what can be gained. The essence of every critical decision. Invest in those dependable Treasury bonds yielding a slim but certain return, or throw caution to the wind and snap up shares of the high-tech start-up that could become next week's billion-dollar headlineor, just as easily, a bankrupt memory. Marry the safe, stable person your parents adore, or run away with the lover who ignites body and soul with a single glancebut lives only in the moment. Risk versus return. A simple concept that often imposes difficult choices. And, sometimes, terrible consequences. Angela Day had chosen well in her business career. It was in her personal life where accepting the risks had proven catastrophic. Until a few minutes ago the four-hour flight from Virginia had been silky smooth. Zero chop in the dark winter sky, which came as a relief because Angela hated to fly. So many times she'd heard the catchy stat about planes being safer than carsusually from amused colleagues sitting beside her when she made the sign of the cross over her heart as the aircraft began to roll forward on takeoff. But as the Gulfstream V banked hard left on its final approach into Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and hurtled through a nasty air pocket, the statistical crutch disintegratedjust as it always did. "Get this thing on the ground," she whispered, her fingernails digging into the arms of the plush leather seat, her stomach starting to churn. "Now." On the way west a uniformed steward had attended to her every want, serving a delicious crab imperial dinner an hour into the flight and constantly topping off her crystal glass with a dry Chardonnay. She was accustomed to commercial aircraft and economy class, accustomed to flat Coke in plastic cups, stale pretzels, and uncomfortable seats beside infants who screamed at any change in air pressure. So, being the only passenger on a private jet as lavish as a five-star hotel suite was a welcome change, even if the luxury was a one-time-only offer made available for some as-yet-unexplained reason by a reclusive billionaire she'd only read about in the press. But the pleasurable experience had been ruined somewhere over South Dakota, when one of the pilots had sauntered back to let her know in his gravelly, Chuck Yeager monotone that the landing might get a little dicey. A winter storm had blown in to northwest Wyoming a few hours ahead of schedule, and he wanted to make certain she was buckled in securely. He chuckled at her suggestion that he make a U-turn and beeline it back to the East Coast, then told her he'd see her on the ground. Hopefully in one piece, she thought. She tried to convince herself that "a little dicey" wasn't pilot-speak for "imminent disaster." Suddenly she missed economy class and its screaming infants. She glanced out the small window beside her into total darkness. Probably the side of some mountain we're about to slam into, she figured grimly. Then the plane's two engines powered up, landing lights flashed on, and she was hurtling through a wall of white. "Oh, God," she murmured, digging her fingernails even deeper into the leather. A moment later, eerie blue lights appeared through the thick clouds and a snow-covered runway rose up to meet the aircraft. A hard bounce, a softer one, a deafening roar and they were taxiing through a blizzard, apparently under control. She let out an audible sigh. "Welcome to Wyoming, Ms. Day. I hope you enjoyed the flight." Angela looked up into the smiling face of the clean-cut attendant who had appeared from a door at the back of the cabin. "Thank you." She thought about tellingFrey, Stephen is the author of 'Silent Partner', published 0000 under ISBN 9780345483416 and ISBN 0345483413.