In The National Interest

by J. Harvey Barker

  The two pilots turned away from each other until they were well separated, then rolled onto an intercepting course.

  Neither aircraft was equipped with missiles, only a laser which would record a kill if it hit a reflector on the opposition aeroplane.

  Both pilots jinked and twisted their jets in a breathtaking dance at over one thousand knots as they approached each other. Carl used his superior motion abilities to quickly shoot off a laser burst at Hares oncoming aircraft, when suddenly it turned, not away from him, but into his path.

  The last action Lieutenant Carl Meredith saw was Hare ejecting from his craft as it veered toward the front of his own.

  There was an immediate response on board the carrier as the radar plots disappeared and a loud boom crossed the water. Helicopters were deployed in a practised rescue procedure, meanwhile other craft were sent to the collision coordinates. Within moments reports were coming into the control room and relayed to the bridge in real time. Two aircraft down, one pilot in the water.

  The chopper returned to the deck of the Carl Vinson inside of twenty minutes. Medics surrounded the whirlybird and emerged with one man on a stretcher, swiftly ushering him down to the sick bay.

  Captain Thomas was notified of the circumstances of the disaster and that Lieutenant Hare alone had survived.

  He would have to organize an inquiry. The ship’s company was advised of the accident and that a requiem would be held the following day.

  A complete search of the area left no doubt that the two aircraft had disintegrated on impact and any debris would be scattered over the floor of the Arabian Sea.

  A memorial service was held in the hanger bay the next morning at the end of which the Captain gave a eulogy and assurance there would be an enquiry into this unfortunate incident.

  Within an hour Lieutenant Hare was flown out to Israel and onto the United States.

  Captain Thomas was instructed by his superiors the enquiry would be conducted at Naval Headquarters in Washington D.C.

  Richard Battley received the news via a one word code, “Done”. He felt neither pleasure nor remorse. Personnel die all the time in the service.

  Chapter 35

  Twenty-four hours had passed, since the press conference, extending to a week. A month later and still no trace of the missing plane was found. The authorities had no idea where to explore or even a flight path to pursue. It was time for one command to take control of the state of affairs, gather all the information and disseminate it, before inaugurating a thorough search. This multi-national interest was beyond the Malaysian Investigators capability.

  Co-ordinating the various International government agencies fell to The Australian Civil Aviation Safety Authorities Martin Dolan and Angus Houston, former Chief of the Australian Defence Force.

  Dolan and Houston established a team of specialists drawn from the United States, China, Malaysia, and Australia, which is how Curt Joyner found himself seated beside Kim Doh on an airliner bound for Canberra.

  They were placed together in business class. It gave them a little more space to mull over their copious notes, which they spread across the folding trays before them.

  “So what are your theories then”? Kim said as she opened a large notepad in front of her.

  “I am certain either the Captain or the First Officer flew a suicide mission. Most probably the Captain” Curt surmised, adjusting his posterior so he faced her more directly.

  “That theory won't fit well with the Malaysian Government,” Kim retorted “but after viewing the supposed innocent flight plans on Zaharie’s computer, I must admit I’m coming to a similar conclusion”.

  They discussed the recent information received from the Inmarsat satellite techs who made a projected arc where the craft might have gone down.

  If they were correct the undersea search could make finding the Flight Data Recorder a possibility. This would disclose what events occurred in the cockpit before the aircraft’s demise. As they discussed the variables in the flight characteristics of the missing airliner they realised there were many more unknowns then what they had so far.

  The aeroplane soon landed in Sydney where they disembarked and were escorted to the VIP lounge where Customs and Immigration were waiting to process their arrival.

  The Prime Minister of Australia had intervened and given all co-operation to the task force entrusted to find the missing aircraft. It was imperative they establish what had actually happened to it.

  They were ushered to the tarmac via a stairway to board a Dassault Falcon 7X belonging to the RAAF for the short flight to Canberra. “Wow” said Kim, “We’re really getting the VIP treatment.”

  On arrival in the nations capital, Kim retrieved her vehicle from the long-term car park. The two inspectors drove directly to the Australian Transport Safety Bureau and Transport Security Office on Northbourne Avenue.

  Kim introduced Curt to the task force commander, and other ranking Military and Government officials whom she knew.

  The investigation was attracting a great deal of media and public attention, also high level multi departmental political approbation. After their introductions they were each supplied with a large portfolio containing the latest available information.

  “Well”, said Kim to nobody in particular, “We had better get down to work”. She led Curt away from the officials and through several hallways to an expansive room. “Welcome to my headquarters”, she uttered as she traipsed into the chamber, placing her portmanteau at one of the centrally located desks. “Pick anywhere”, she directed.

  Curt dropped his briefcase and file folder on the wooden table adjacent to Kim's and sat down while taking in the trappings of the large workroom. There were several computing devices available on one wall as well as electricity outlets at each counter. “This receptacle won't work with my computer”, Curt said as he held the terminal from his laptop, “do you have an adapter?”.

  Kim immediately reached into a drawer in her desk and pulled out a universal plug which she threw over to Curt. “This will sort it for you, we use two forty volts here in Oz,”, she added as she produced a ceramic coffee mug emblazoned with the words, What, Where, Why, When, How, Who, and the Australian Transport Safety Authority logo.

  Three large whiteboards and a prominent clear plastic display panel stood to one side. It would to used to illustrate a timeline of the events as they pertained to the investigation.

  An automatic coffee machine sat on a bench in a kitchenette at the back of the room.

  Opening their respective folders, they read through the recent developments.

  It took over an hour to assess the information and compare it with what they already had.

  The latest piece of intelligence came from a company called Inmarsat. A British institution which contracted to most of the worlds airlines to monitor engine performance whilst flying.

  The purpose behind this, was to warn pilots of any potential problems with the motors in the course of the flight which they could act upon before it became a hazardous condition.

  Using a marking pen Curt and Kim began a timeline on the whiteboards. Time of Departure, Time at hand off to Air Traffic Control, the erratic flightpath over Penang, as confirmed by Military radar, and the aircraft’s progress into the South Indian Ocean.

  They discussed these notes at length before transferring them to the clear board with accompanying notations of hight, speed, and changes in altitude.

  By marking out the path flown by the aeroplane it was apparent that it was under human command and the pilot made every effort to disguise the purpose of the flight. They analysed and reanalysed the data.

  Two components stood out, one was the fact that the aircraft was under control when it flew a pattern along territorial boundaries attempting to avoid civilian and military radar coverage, and the heights of the flight registered by radio detection and ranging.

  This was a disturbing series of events. His instincts told him there something here
, but he couldn't see what it was. Curt felt he needed some fresh air. The two left the building and strolled down Northbourne Avenue in search of a coffee shop. They found a modern establishment and took the two seats at a metal table and ordered cappuccinos.

  “I keep looking over the flight until it is lost from military radar heading toward the South Indian Ocean, but there is an oddity. It occurred when the airliner went dark”.

  “What was it?” Kim asked, eyeing him intensely.

  “It won't come to me he replied, but I am sure I'm missing something”.

  Kim explained that trying to force an idea to the surface never seemed to work. She changed the subject, and they both studied the passing parade of workers and tourists milling around the Nations` Capital.

  “Got it”, Curt exclaimed, jumping up from his seat, rocking the table and spilling their coffees.

  “C`mon” he said as he grasped her hand, “We have to go back over it”.

  They rushed into the room with it's attendant whiteboards and he moved to the clear board which had the chronology for the flight of MH370.

  “Here”, he said dabbing his finger at the timeline just after it deviated from the waypoint AGARI. “The transmitting devices shut off at this point, including the SDU, why then did it come back online at 02:25? This is some 60 minutes after it’s becoming disabled. Why would someone trying to avoid tracking suddenly turn on a communication link?”

  Kim stared at the board not finding a reasonable answer.

  Curt and Kim arranged access to a simulator owned by QANTAS, the Australian Airline. It could approximate the Boeing 777 flight characteristics. With the assistance of the Senior Check Captain, they were able to duplicate the flightpath from the data they had. It became apparent that their deductions were correct and that the aircraft was indeed under guidance in the course of the trip. But where it headed after it left radar coverage and entered the Indian Ocean could only be conjecture.

  Curt asked the Flight simulator Pilot where the SDU control switch was. The Captain was unsure for a time, never having considered an environment where it would be necessary, but he found and activated it. On studying the data readout after they finished with the machine, Curt decided to take a copy back to their situation room in the ATSB building.

  They had scarcely entered the office when Kim received a call from the Director requesting them to travel with the ship doing the undersea mapping of the suspected site of the aeroplane. They enthusiastically agreed, hastily packing a few clothes. Within the hour they boarded an aircraft bound for Fremantle in Western Australia.

  Curt barely had time to send off a preliminary report to Washington, before heading to the airport.

  Chapter 36

  The survey vessel “Ocean Explorer” was all but ready to sail when Curt and Kim arrived at the dock, making them run up the gangplank with bags in hand, before it disengaged. A crewman led them to small but adequate cabins deep within the boat.

  “Do you get seasick?” Kim asked while holding up a packet of Quells.

  “Not me”, Curt replied, “I'm an old Navy guy”.

  “I'm not,” she said as she downed two anti-sea sickness pills.

  They finished sorting out their belongings before there occurred a knock on the door. The steward invited them to join the crew for lunch as the ship ploughed it's way toward the Indian Ocean. The Pilot boat called alongside, and collected the navigator, handing control to the Skipper to continue the voyage into the open sea, and pulled away. Nobody noticed the red jacketed crew member from the launch stay aboard the “Ocean Explorer” and move unhurriedly into the interior of the survey vessel.

  Over lunch the crewmembers questioned the investigators regarding any additional information they had which may help in locating the downed aircraft. They had none.

  Curt and Kim were shown to the heart of the ship, the analysis room.

  The subdued lighting in the chamber turned a greenish hue by the numerous Visual Display Units currently being tested and calibrated for the upcoming search. It was all engrossing, however, it was highly technical and not relevant to their work before discovering the wreckage. They asked the appropriate questions of the operators but after twenty minutes Curt suggested that it was time to get some fresh air.

  They chatted about the difficulty of the task at hand and concluded that until they found the missing aircraft and it's Black Boxes there was no conclusive evidence to go on, merely conjecture.

  It took two days of steaming before the “Ocean Explorer” reached its` starting point for the pattern. “The Seventh Arc” was an area of ocean based upon the information given by Inmarsat, of where the signals communicated by the engines finished. The expanse was huge. The approximate search section was purely an estimate but the quest had to begin somewhere.

  The routine aboard ship became monotonous as the days rolled by. The only positive outcome so far was the actual mapping of the sea floor in this largely uncharted domain of the worlds` third biggest ocean. The discovery of a few unknown shipwrecks caused much excitement in the archaeologist community, but they found no modern aeroplanes.

  During the interval, Curt and Kim developed an interest beyond the professional. Possibly it was the well recognised ship board romance with its` starry skies or something else, but their relationship was becoming more personal. It was a late night dalliance in a secluded part of the ship that the incident happened. They had been sharing a bottle of wine whilst looking out over the dark sea when Kim excused herself to use the head, or bathroom in landlubber terms. She had not departed more than a few minutes, when Curt sensed, and then felt someone coming up from behind him. The assault came rapidly, and he was thrust bodily over the ships' stanchion. Some instincts never leave you and his experience in the Navy made him wrap his elbow around the top railing.

  He dangled there for a few seconds, resisting the urge to let go, despite his attacker punching down on his arm, when suddenly the assailant flew over his head landing with an audible splash in the swiftly flowing water below. “Shit” he cried out.

  Kim stood peering down from the top rail with a quizzical look on her face.

  “What the hell happened”? She asked frantically of him.

  “How the fuck would I know” he replied, dangling by one arm over the waves rushing by.

  “Are you waiting for me to fall in or are you going to help me up?”

  She gave him that mischievous grin, before reaching out to him.

  Her strength impressed him as she took hold of his other hand and supported his weight until he could obtain a foothold on the deck. Climbing back over the rail he was feeling shaky but explained to her that they needed to refer the incident to the Skipper straight away.

  The Captain was on the bridge despite the late hour, and listened attentively to what had happened. He wasted no time in calling for a crew roster. He was aware that stopping and turning the boat while trailing the side-scanning sonar would be difficult and squander a considerable amount of time. The bosun returned after twenty minutes to report that all souls were present and accounted for. He peered sceptically at Curt and Kim.

  “Your quite sure it was a person you encountered?” he asked.

  “Take Charlie here to where the incident occurred,” he ordered. “Have a look about”, he added to the seaman.

  Curt and Kim led the midshipman to the place where they came in contact with the would-be assassin. The crewman rummaged around and using his flashlight saw that a large bundle of cargo on the deck had come loose. He tightened the straps which held the heap of extraneous items in place and said, “I may have solved the mystery for you, something from here must have become dislodged and hit you. Sometimes a deflated dingy or another piece of equipment can appear like a human, especially at night and in a rolling sea.” he added. Curt and Kim looked at each other. They almost doubted themselves and what they had experienced less than an hour ago.

  They returned to the bridge where Charlie, the crewmember,
delivered his report to the Captain.

  “Well that sounds like a more logical conclusion, might I suggest you retire to your cabins, and we'll check it out in the morning,” he stated, relieved that he would not have to interrupt his survey.

  “Goodnight Captain,” Kim & Curt said, somewhat embarrassed, and left the bridge.

  When they settled below in their cabins, Curt uttered emphatically, “I know that was a man that attacked me”.

  Kim replied, “I recognize a human when I lift one too. Someone, somewhere doesn't want us here if they locate that missing aircraft”.

  “Let`s sleep on it and see what we come up with tomorrow”. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, “Thanks for saving me,” he said.

  Kim’s eyes sparkled as she blew Curt a warm kiss and uttered “Your welcome,” as she slid behind her cabin door.

  Chapter 37

  Richard Battley did not look pleased. His man, surreptitiously placed aboard the “Ocean Explorer” had not reported in. He concluded that things had not gone well for him.

  He had read the NTSB man’s intercepted dispatch and did not like the assumptions he was making. Perhaps taking him out was not the best way to proceed. After all, he had only a suspicion that something had occurred, no substantial evidence, and was still on the wild goose chase of finding MH370 at the bottom end of the Indian Ocean. He pondered his thoughts, had he reacted too soon? Would the investigators become suspicious? Only time would tell. He vowed to himself to take a more cautious approach in future.

  The following two months revealed nothing new. Even the media circus had moved on.

  Chapter 38

  James Winston Churchill was a portly gentleman with a nose which appeared ready to explode judging by the veins covering most of it's bulbous protuberance. His mother believed there was a family connection to the Great Man and hoped perchance a little of that notability would rub off onto her only son. She was disillusioned.