Sojourners of the Sky

by Clayton Taylor

  “I missed you, honey,” said Dirk as he turned to sit.

  “Hi, Dirk, me and the missus were just talking about your wedding,” said Sonny with an evil grin. “I’m from Providence and I was just thinking that I may have bumped into your lovely bride previously. Anyhow, I asked myself…”

  Marie, completely overwrought with fear and unsure of what to do, looked at Sonny and said, “All right.”

  “Oh, excuse me; sometimes I ramble,” said Sonny. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “That’s perfectly all right,” replied Dirk. “Marie is beautiful, isn’t she?”

  “She certainly is,” said Sonny with a knowing nod. He then turned away and smiled, knowing that in the not-too-distant future Dirk’s new bride would be his for the taking.

  It took a while, but as Sonny spoke to her husband, Marie remembered her former patron. There were two men in her previous life that had struck her and Sonny was one of them. She recalled the black eye, the bloody nose and the bruises. As frightened as Marie was, there was a tiny ember of anger deep inside that was slowly intensifying. And that simmering hot coal’s name was revenge.

  *

  Lars slipped out of the cockpit and watched as Sonny smiled and nodded while the young woman sitting across from him rambled on. Sonny actually looked happy, but at the same time he appeared bemused. Lars hoped the young lady was greasing the skids for him--calming Sonny down and making him a little more approachable.

  The moment the young woman’s husband sat down, Lars made his move. His plan was to arrive at Sonny’s side soon after the couple resumed kissing. He was counting on the distraction of the smooching newlyweds to ease into the conversation, using it as a sort of ice breaker.

  As Lars walked toward Sonny’s seat, he could almost feel his neighbor’s powerful hands around his neck. Just the thought of it made him wince.

  “Sonny, can we talk for a minute?” asked Lars.

  Looking up as Lars approached, he extended his open palm and said, “Not now, Lars. Leave me alone.”

  “Sonny, can I please speak to you in private?”

  “There is nothing you can say that I want to hear.”

  “I’m going to go back and wait by one of the first class lavs. I’ll give you a few minutes,” said Lars, struggling to remove the emotion from his words as he spoke.

  During his walk aft, Lars twice chided himself to slow down. At the same time, he reminded himself that the burning feeling he felt in his neck wasn’t actually there…yet.

  When he arrived outside the rearmost lav, Lars did his best to act nonchalant, pretending to study the door frame as if it were broken.

  *

  Marie Myers was beside herself. Her heart raced and her head pounded. She was so angry with herself for having sold her body, even though she knew that it had been necessary in order to get through an extremely desperate time. Marie shook her head in utter disbelief at her sudden misfortune. She’d lied to her husband, there was no taking that back. She tried telling herself that if she did it just one more time it would all go away. But a little voice inside, a mere glowing cinder, slowly convinced her that if she gave in to Sonny he would blackmail her for the rest of her life.

  Marie sat perfectly still, consumed with regret. All she could think about was the impossible situation she found herself in. A tiny tear ran down her cheek as her adoring husband nibbled on her ear lobe. Rage, originating from deep inside, slowly worked its way to the surface. Marie was scared to death, but at the same time her mind began a measured, deliberate search for freedom. Gradually, through the tears of anguish and frustration, things came into focus. There was no way she could return to her previous life. Just the thought of being forced into servitude by a thug proved more than she could bear. It took a while for all the anger to well-up, and when it did, Marie knew what she had to do. She told herself that if Sonny came into the bathroom, pulled his pants down and tried to take advantage of her, there was no way he would get off the airplane alive. It didn’t take long for her to work out the details in her mind. The moment her husband came up for air, she pushed him away and said, “Darling, I have to powder my nose. I’ll be right back.”

  “Is everything all right? You don’t seem yourself,” observed Dirk.

  “I’m fine…really. I won’t be but a minute,” said Marie in a low, almost feral tone.

  “Oh, all right then,” said Dirk. “Please hurry.”

  “I will, darling. I will,” she said. Then with a slight smile on her lips and fury clearly evident in her eyes, she glared at Sonny for a long moment before making her way aft. Her problem was about to be solved.

  *

  “Asa, it looks like meteorology messed up the forecast. Let’s see if we can climb to seventeen thousand for a little while to get out of this turbulence,” suggested John.

  “OK, John,” said Asa. “I don’t think it’s that bad though.”

  “No, it isn’t, but I’m afraid the ride might get worse. It’s been smooth as silk, so I’m thinking these sudden bumps might be telling me something.”

  Asa called Gander three times, but could not get through.

  One of the vagaries of high frequency communications is that sometimes the reception is as clear as a bell, while other times it seems nothing can break through the nearly constant static.

  On his fifth attempt, Asa got through to Gander, but could just barely make out the clearance. He looked at the acting captain and said, “They said we can climb to seventeen, John.”

  “G.R., set climb power please. We’re going to seventeen to get out of this bad air,” said John.

  “OK, John,” said G.R. “Our fuel burn is based on fifteen thousand feet, so give me a couple of minutes to work out some new numbers.”

  “Take your time,” said John as he turned to gaze out at the stars. He spotted the Big Dipper and thought to himself, Here I am in the left seat of a Pan Am DC6 over the North Atlantic. I can’t believe it. John Tacker could not remember ever being as pleased with himself and the direction of his life as he was in that moment. He could hardly contain his exuberance.

  *

  Mark Small’s discomfort was not lessening. Might as well replace the timing belt and water pump, too, he thought. He’d heard the increase in the engine RPM when the pilots initiated a climb. Along with the higher power setting, Mark was certain that the skip in the engine had instantly become more frequent, though it did not increase in intensity. He stopped his mental engine rebuild for a moment as he contemplated his observation. Knowing what he knew about engines, Mark concluded that the miss he kept hearing was not something he had to worry about. It must be a fouled plug. He reached up to push the stewardess call light: it was time for another drink.

  *

  Lars smiled and moved aside as the pretty young newlywed approached.

  “Is everything all right?” asked Marie.

  “Oh, yes ma’am,” replied Lars. “I’d been told this door was difficult to close, but it seems fine to me.”

  Marie smiled and moved to enter the other aft lav, saying, “Excuse me.”

  “I beg your pardon, Miss,” said Lars as he tipped his hat and moved forward to stand well clear of both lavs.

  Marie locked the door of the tiny bathroom behind her and then looked at herself in the mirror. The person who stared back was tired and scared to death, but at the same time clearly livid. She then removed a fork she’d hidden in her sleeve and placed it on the counter. Marie and her husband had been so absorbed in each other’s company neither had taken the time to eat. A devilish smile came to her face as she studied the fork, knowing it would be put to good use.

  *

  Sonny moved swiftly toward the back of the airplane seeking pleasure. He knew Lars would be waiting for him, but had no intention of wasting precious time. As he approached the junior flight engineer, Sonny held up his hand and said, “Get away from me before I’m forced to do something the other passengers might regret.”

  �
�Sonny, we need to talk,” said Lars.

  Clearly annoyed, Sonny snarled, “Get lost, you filthy liar.”

  “Be reasonable. It just sort of happened. It wasn’t your wife, it was me,” said Lars. “I don’t know what happened. I guess I lost my head and forced myself on her. I think she suspected that you were cheating on her and wanted to get back at you or something.”

  Lars’s comment about his wife’s suspicions gave him pause. He had no idea that she ever suspected a thing. He thought he’d been discreet. But this was not the time to think about it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lars. Now hit the road and don’t bug me again, or you’ll die much sooner than I planned.”

  “Come on, Sonny, me and you are neighbors…and friends,” said Lars, the tension audible in his voice.

  Sonny grabbed the young engineer’s collar and slammed him against the wall. The force was so great a loud thump could be heard throughout much of the cabin, even though the engines, operating at full power, were sending loud pulses of noise in all directions.

  “Now you listen and listen good, Mister. I’m not going to say this again. Leave me the hell alone or I will kill you before we land. Do you understand? You say another word and you won’t be walking off this airplane. So start moving away from me before I lose my temper!” exclaimed Sonny, as he snapped Lars’s head against the wall before letting him go.

  There was no question in Lars’s mind: Sonny was going to kill him. He nodded his head at Sonny and began to walk toward the front of the airplane. After a few steps, he turned and uttered softly, “I control the systems on this airplane. Don’t forget that. If you’re going to kill me anyway, I won’t have much to lose.”

  Sonny looked at Lars with only a slight hint of concern. Had he not been so preoccupied with more pressing plans, he may have been willing to stop and negotiate further. But after only a very brief pause, he turned and continued toward the lav, concluding that Lars and his worthless apologies would have to wait. In his mind, the situation with Lars was final and nothing would alter his plans.

  Lars knew that he had to come up with something. And by the time he reached the forward galley, Lars could see no other way around it: He was going to have to kill Sonny before they landed. He decided that the best way to start was to put the fear of God into him first. Sonny may have won the battle, he thought, but this war is far from over.

  Once he scared the hell out of him, Lars planned to somehow finish him off. Of course, just exactly how he was going to accomplish that would require some more thought.

  *

  Captain Pratt awoke from his nap, but before assuming his rightful place, he first planned to take a bathroom break. As he opened the cockpit door to exit, he turned to the two pilots up front and asked, “How goes it?”

  John turned and said, “All’s normal, captain.” While he spoke, he could hear Asa calling Gander to tell them that they were level at seventeen thousand feet.

  It took a few tries, but eventually Asa got through. Struggling to hear the controller’s words, a hot flash went through the young copilot’s body. He’d screwed up!

  John saw the color run from Asa’s face. “What’s the matter?” he asked as he turned up the volume to his earphones and the cockpit speaker.

  “Clipper forty-two, say again your altitude? You are only cleared to sixteen thousand feet,” stated the Gander controller through the nearly continuous static.

  John immediately reduced the power on the engines and disconnected the autopilot. As smoothly as possible, John initiated a fast descent to sixteen thousand feet. He looked at Asa and said, “Tell him you misspoke, and that we are level at sixteen.”

  In spite of the static, Charles heard Gander’s transmission. His crew had violated their clearance. His bathroom break would have to wait.

  *

  Sonny scanned the aft cabin before gently knocking on the door. When he heard his prey on the other side of the door whimpering softly, he took it as a sign to enter. Once inside, he noticed Marie was standing as far back in the tiny room as possible.

  “What’s the matter, honey?” he asked as he closed and locked the door behind him.

  Marie didn’t answer. Instead, she broke down in tears.

  “Look, Marie, this will only take a few minutes of your time and then it will all be over. Now be a good girl and lift your skirt,” he said.

  “I can’t. I just can’t!” cried Marie.

  “Oh sure you can,” said Sonny, with only a slight hint of the irritation he was already beginning to feel. He reached down and pulled the frightened young lady’s skirt up so hard, he nearly tore it from her body. “Now you listen,” he said. “Me and you are gonna do this. You can make it easy or hard, it’s up to you.”

  Marie couldn’t move. She began to cry uncontrollably. “Please, I’ll give you anything,” she pleaded.

  “Just shut the hell up!” exclaimed Sonny, as he grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the wall. “This is what you’re gonna give me,” he added, while loosening his belt with his left hand.

  *

  “John, what is the meaning of this?!” screamed Captain Pratt with fury in his voice. He slammed the cockpit door before storming forward.

  “Sir,” responded Asa, “I’m really sorry, but there’s a bunch of static on HF tonight.”

  “Asa, mind your place; I’m addressing the acting captain. John, when you sit in my seat you are the captain. You are expected to adhere to the finest principles of airmanship and to follow company procedures to the letter. If you had been monitoring the frequency and confirmed the clearance yourself, none of this would have happened,” said Charles in a very stern tone.

  John could see that his captain’s lips were quivering as he spoke. “You are correct, captain. The responsibility is mine and mine alone. Please accept my apologies for the oversight. It will not happen again.”

  “I should hope not!” thundered Charles.

  “I doubt anything will come of it, captain, since we never admitted to doing anything wrong. Asa told them we were level at sixteen, and I didn’t see any other airplanes around,” said John.

  “The airplane you have to worry about, John, is the one that you do not see. For your sake, I sincerely hope that this was the last lapse of leadership that I will ever again be forced to witness. I trust you have learned your lesson. For the time being, I will see to it that this incident remains off the record, but my patience has limits. I will not tolerate any more of this incompetence,” stated Charles, clearly disgusted with his senior copilot.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” said John, before turning around to resume monitoring the annoying, static-filled airwaves.

  “I’m truly sorry, John,” sighed Asa.

  “Asa, it’s my fault, not yours. Don’t think of it again,” said John. “All I ask is that you learn from your mistake. We are both supposed to confirm all clearances and I dropped the ball. The static gives me a headache, but that’s no excuse.”

  Charles overheard his copilots’ conversation. His acting captain had made a grievous error, one that could have easily cost them their lives. Charles disliked being firm with his men, but strongly believed that his crew must always be held to task. All Pan Am pilots were aware that the company had policies and procedures in place and that it was up to everyone to abide by them. To do otherwise opened the door to many hazards, up to and including death for everyone on board.

  Captain Pratt turned to exit the cockpit just as Lars was entering.

  “Hello, captain,” said Lars. “Sleep well?”

  Having held a position of high regard for many years, Charles paused to reclaim his professionalism. He wisely brushed his anger aside prior to responding to his underling. “Why yes, I did,” he said. “Thank you for asking. I think a light snack and a cup of coffee will certainly hit the spot right about now.”

  “Keen. That’s good to hear, captain,” said Lars.

  Other than a smile, Charles did not respo
nd. Some of the words the younger crew members occasionally used in conversation confounded him. He wondered what his junior engineer meant by ‘keen,’ but decided to leave his question unasked before quietly slipping out the door.

  Lars slapped G.R. on the shoulder and said, “You look tired. I’ll watch the ship from here.”

  “That Dell clamp on number four is still acting up, but it should be OK. At last check, our fuel burn matched the flight plan. And, according to Mr. Vito, we are right on schedule. The number one alternate fuel tank is running a little lower than the others so you might want to keep an eye on it. Also, the fuel temps are starting to drop. You might have to throw some fuel heat on, especially if the pilots climb any higher,” said G.R.

  “Thanks, G.R., I’ve got it,” said Lars.

  G.R. removed his shoes, climbed into the upper bunk and pulled the curtain around him, knowing he’d be snoring within a matter of minutes.

  Lars checked his panel to make sure everything was set properly. Satisfied with what he saw, he moved forward to check the other instruments and controls. Then, after loitering a bit longer than normal, he enacted the initial part of his plan.

  Lars reached up to the center pedestal and pretended to adjust one of the throttles. Next, the junior engineer abruptly shifted his body to the left, making it appear as though he’d inadvertently lost his footing. Then in one swift move, he “accidently” activated the electrical switch controlling the number four propeller. Lars’s action instantly forced the spinning propeller blades on engine number four to transition into low pitch, the equivalent of shifting into low gear in a car that’s traveling at fifty miles per hour.

  All of a sudden the number four engine RPM went through the roof, causing the airplane to swerve violently to the right! The autopilot tried to compensate, but the intense yaw caused by the flattened-out propeller blades forced it to abruptly disconnect. There was no audible alert to the crew that they were expected to take over for the failed electronic helper, but the sudden, unexpected swaying and warbling sound caused by the out of sync propeller was warning enough.