I have flown the Dash 8 Q400 several times, but I was to have a non-participating (?) co-pilot for the flight to Ketchikan. No reason was given and according to some very high-ranking looking signatures on these suddenly very warm-to-the-touch documents, I had no say in the matter.

The two extra individuals were in fact the flight crew that had just brought the Q400 into Stewart. I had a growing suspicion they were not your regular commuter pilots. One of the pilots would be sitting in back with Countess Dracula. (Why didn’t they just fly her Royal Scariness back themselves?) But fool me once … I was not about to open my mouth again to change feet.

(How come I never get ferry flights to places like the Caribbean, with beach goers and movie stars?)

I read through all of the information packets and ascertained all was in order (as far as my now fully addled mind could fathom). Regardless, it was time to take the Terror Trifecta back to whatever awaited our arrival.

The flight was uneventful and entering the final approach into Ketchikan did not trigger any Patriot Missile batteries. Our arrival turned out to be quite scenic actually. Even with the additional stress of dealing with the shadow people, I have to admit I was able to pull off one of my better landings.

After pulling up to the ramp and the moment the air-stair was lowered, the Countess and her minions were whisked away in a blacked out SUV to the nearby dock. Thankfully I was left to my own devices, where the first order of business was finding a hotel for the night. Then a much needed shower and change of clothes. This would immediately be followed by 2 beers, a lobster and crab dinner (I am in Alaska after all), topped off with a wee dram of Baileys (two and a half fingers). Then sleep. The plan was to catch a commercial flight back to Vancouver tomorrow; hopefully before I am dragged into another alternate dimension by the Witchy Woman with the strawberry blonde hair.