Arts
Thrillers in the sky! I have a friend whose cousin worked as the Canadian version of an air Marshall. I've always wondered what that kind of work would be like. He spends his working hours on flights (or did, before covid). I've never met him but I'd love to ask him what it's like being on high alert much of the time but, hopefully, never having to actually deal with armed terrorists. Joseph Reid's Seth Walker series comes as close as possible to me being able to ask those questions. The author himself has spent thousands of hours in the air and in airports, which inspired this thriller series. In the interview we touch on the fascinating world of airports, which are like cities unto themselves, and also talk about what inspires Joseph to keep writing. Today's show is supported by my patrons at Patreon. Thank you! When you become a patron for as little as $1 a month you receive a short mystery story each and every month. And the rewards for those who love mystery stories go up from there! Learn more and become a part of my community of readers at www.Patreon.com/alexandraamor This week's mystery author The son of a navy helicopter pilot, Joseph Reid chased great white sharks as a marine biologist before becoming a patent lawyer who litigates multimillion-dollar cases for high-tech companies. He has flown millions of miles on commercial aircraft and has spent countless hours in airports around the world. Joseph is the author of the Amazon Charts bestselling Seth Walker series, which includes Takeoff, False Horizon, and the upcoming Departure. A graduate of Duke University and the University of Notre Dame, he lives in San Diego with his wife and children. Learn more about Joseph Reid and all his books at JosephReidBooks.com Press play (above) to listen to the show, or read the transcript below. Remember you can also subscribe to the show on Apple Podcasts. And listen on Stitcher, Android, Google Podcasts, TuneIn, and Spotify. Excerpt from Departure Thursday, February 23 More often than you’d think, the troublemakers sit in first class. Not the upgraders. They’re so thankful for a golden ticket to the promised land, they stay on best behavior in hopes of proving they belong in the club full-time. Most of them are business types who simply want to eat their free meal and finish their work. No, it’s the ones who pay full freight. They think that entitles them to be all kinds of demanding. Whether it’s some rich-bitch type complaining about the white-wine selection or a slick lawyer with sterling-silver cuff links who wants to talk on his cell through takeoff—something about the extra-wide seats seems to deprive people of their senses. Watching stuff like that go down, I always feel for the flight attendants. FAA regs force them to handle everything from nausea to a terrorist takeover, while passengers expect them to be attractive, attentive handservants. For their trouble, they pull down maybe twenty bucks an hour, and that’s only for “flight time,” door-close to door-open. Despite my sympathy, though, I keep my mouth shut. An air marshal’s job is to blend in, not stick out. And while the crazy woman who’d exposed my identity and almost killed me a few months back had ended my run as a rank-and-file air marshal, it was hard to turn the training off. Even in my new, tongue-twisting role as Tactical Law Enforcement Liaison and Principal Investigator, I tried to keep a low profile. That morning’s flight was an exception. We were a predawn departure from DFW, the plane only about half-full. I felt exhausted, but not from the early hour. The past four days with my godkids in Fort Worth had been fun. Thanks to an unexpected heat wave, I’d spent a bunch of time horsing around in the pool, flipping them over my head, and launching them into the air to have them splash down a moment later. All that action had left my muscles slightly sore,