Pilot Novels & Stories

He pulled the door up and said, “Can any of your people fly a plane?” Thinking he was joking, Jo snickered, but then, she saw that he was serious. “What? We don’t have a pilot?” she asked. “Of course we have a pilot,” he replied, rolling his eyes at her. ‘It’s a co-pilot that we need.” Jo turned to look at the cockpit. There were two empty seats behind her. “Who the hell is the pilot?” she asked, regretting the question the second it came out of her mouth.

he whispered, “and I won’t think twice.” The pilot’s jaw tensed. “I didn’t touch her.” “But you wanted to,” Alessio said coldly. “I could smell it on you.” He pointed the gun higher now, straight between the pilot’s eyes. “You’re a good pilot,” he added. “It’ll be hard to find someone who flies like you.” The meaning landed hard. Elena stood behind them, clutching her robe again, chest heaving, heart pounding like thunder. The pilot held Alessio’s stare. “I take orders. That’s all.”

His younger brother, Roberto, used to fly solo missions until his plane crashed into the ocean, severely wounding him and reducing him to a tail gunner. “Hold on, who is the greatest Piletan pilot?” Rhina asked. A large smile was formed on Takao’s face. “I, Takao Sakai, am the greatest pilot in the Imperial Piletan Air Force, with a record of fourteen victories and seventy-seven enemy aircraft shot down!” he proudly announced, lifting his chin into the air. “There they are! Open fire!” someone suddenly shouted. BANG! BANG! Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Rue introduced him to me. The man who emerged from the helicopter wore a sleek, navy blue jumpsuit adorned with various patches and insignias, indicating his expertise in aviation. His uniform was crisp and well-fitted, with a row of shiny buttons running down the front. A pair of aviator sunglasses rested atop his head, adding to his air of professionalism. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his confident stride exuded a sense of assurance. As Rue introduced him, a friendly smile graced the pilot's lips, showcasing his warm demeanor despite the seriousness of his attire.

I grab my bag from the trunk of the car and make my way to the plane. The King steps forward and introduces me to the pilot. "This is Otto. He will be flying you to Egypt." I look at the man that is standing in front of me and he doesn't look like a pilot. He is almost as large as the King with a massive scar that runs the length of the left side of his face. Instead of wearing a suit and tie like most pilots do, he is wearing a pair of jeans and a stained t-shirt. Scars and tattoos run the length of his arms. His long blonde hair is pulled back into a low bun and his blue eyes study me curi

I pout. “It doesn't matter; clothes are the least of our worries right now,” he replies. He asks me to loosen up and enjoy the destination rather than anticipating the next problem. “Benvingut on board, Mr. Blanco,” says the pilot, joining us at our seats. Welcome aboard, Mr. Blanco. He is formally dressed and looks familiar. “Selena, this is Marco, our pilot,” introduces Hunter. Holy shit, the karaoke guy. I go red, but I'm glad Hunter doesn’t notice.

As the pilot flew, the weather suddenly turned violent, a storm that he could not control. Marcus had been Salazar's pilot for a decade, with twenty-five years of experience. Never had he encountered such a life-threatening situation. He did everything in his power to regain control of the plane, but his efforts were in vain. A deafening crash resonated throughout the cabin. Annie screamed, shutting her eyes tightly.

she said and continued savoring her creamy and cheesy chicken pie. “How about the name?” Her heart rate was erratic as Claire took a moment to remember. He was the only lead she has left to regain her hazy memories from the accident. “Elian? Ellery? Right, Elliot Sphene.” “I hope that’s not a fake name either.” “Hey! He seems polite and not the type to lie their way out.” “Right, not everybody is like me,” Ava said, rolling her eyes. When she saw Claire purse her lips from across her, she smiled. “It’s a force of habit, okay? I’m working on it. Now we can enjoy our lunch.”

The unknown pilot announced through the installed speaker. Diana took a deep breath as she tried to make sense of fast her world was going. From a bullied house wife to flying private.

"This place has an airport, doesn't it? Let's land there." The pilot, who had been executed for murder, consisted of little more than brain tissue in a nutrient bath. When ordered to choose permanent death, or service as a cyborg, she had chosen the latter. She flew the transport by means of a neutral interface, "felt" by means of its sensors, and "saw" through multiple vid cams. The request took her by surprise. She applied power and banked away. Air fanned the battlements. A sentry lost his hat. The reply was automatic. "Sir, yes, sir!" "Good", Marco answered. "And one more thing... When they ask where I went... Tell them you don't know"