Trackers of the Fog Pack; Or, Jack Ralston Flying Blind

San Diego, 1931. The skies are blue, the Pacific gleams, and two Secret Service pilots are dying of boredom. Jack Ralston and his partner Gabe "Perk" Perkiser are stuck on dull assignments while the world outside their airfield teems with danger they're not being sent to meet. Then a rabid dog lunges at a child on Main Street, and the flyers leap into action, proving that heroism isn't about titles or missions, it's about who you are when the moment arrives. Newcomb writes with the breathless energy of early pulp adventure, capturing an era when flying was still miraculous and men in leather jackets solved problems with nerve and a steady hand. The Fog Pack itself remains mysterious, what exactly they track through the clouds is the novel's central tease, but the real treasure is the partnership between Ralston and Perk: two friends who finish each other's sentences and cover each other's backs. For readers who want stories of risk, loyalty, and a United States that still believed in clean victories, this is a compact burst of vintage adventure fiction.