Acclaimed Author & Pilot

Alan McTeer

I took my initial flight training at one of the worst commercial Airports in the world, Castlegar, BC. The runway was tucked alongside a high mountain, the IFR approach was a non-precision radio range that brought you down into the middle of a narrow valley. It was considered the most dangerous approach in Canada, and for good reason, one mistake and you became a statistic. That is where I learned the true meaning of “mountain flying.”

In 1975 I moved to Calgary, Alberta where I was lucky enough to be hired as a salesman for a Cessna dealer. Over the next year I flew everything I could get my hands on. I completed my IFR training in Calgary. Flying precision approaches in the prairies was a piece of cake compared to a non-precision approach in bad weather with tall mountains all around.

“McTeer walks the reader into a treacherous maze where entanglement and evil wait at every turn.”

– STEVE ZETTLER

“McTeer is a natural born storyteller who writes with the authority of a real adventure. He doesn’t just talk the talk he actually walked the walk.”

– TESS GERRITSEN

A customer, an inexperienced single engine pilot who had bought a large Cessna twin for his business, hired me as his pilot. His plan was to fly with me and learn hands on how to fly this big Cessna. We flew to Europe, Central America, the Bahamas and to most major centers within the United States over the course of the next 2 years. He wasn’t the only one learning. After 2 years of flying with me, my boss who was now my friend had completed his multiengine instrument rating and no longer needed me. Unfortunately for him his first trip with his family to Mexico didn’t turn out as planned.

After landing at Mazatlan he and his family spent the next week enjoying their vacation. When he returned to the airport to fly home, he discovered his airplane had been stolen. The long-range Cessna was a perfect fit for the local drug smugglers needs. When he reported it stolen he was promptly arrested and put in jail, charged as an accomplice to the smugglers. It took 3 months and tens of thousands of dollars in bribes to get my friend back to Canada.

The insurance company was offering a large reward for recovering the airplane, I couldn’t resist. Without any knowledge of Spanish or Mexico for that matter, I was off in my old Cessna 150, looking for a Canadian registered 421 Cessna that was being operated by drug smugglers in Mexico. To say that I was a little naive would be an understatement, the trip was a disaster. I came back empty handed and broke, but the Lloyd’s of London insurance agent was so impressed with my effort that he recruited me for other much easier jobs.

The economy of the early 1980s was a disaster; interest rates had peaked in the mid-20% range. Aircraft owners were abandoning their airplanes in droves; there was more work than I could possibly do. I soon moved to Miami because it was the hub for the Latin American market, the mainstay of my business. And that’s when all the trouble started. I have lightly disguised true stories in my books as fiction; this was done to protect both the guilty and the innocent.

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