Next Rome departure asked them to turn right onto a new vector and cleared them to flight level one two zero and asked them to call Rome control with their heading.
That meant they were cleared for further climb and were being handed off to Rome control. They were soon cleared again to flight level one eight zero and climbed to 18,000 feet and then, as they approached it, were again cleared to 28,000 feet. After another few minutes Bowden had Gostini call for their oceanic clearance while he stayed with Rome on their second radio. They soon received their oceanic clearance.
“Rome clears Charter 104, track foxtrot to Heathrow, flight level three-three zero mach decimal eight four from five three north, one five west.”
They climbed through 29,000 feet and within a half an hour they were out over the Mediterranean with the INS waypoints keyed in, at altitude, and settling back for a long cruise. Bowden asked Gostini to take control, took off his headset and headed back for a pit stop. Gostini’s gaze swept the instruments. His experience enabled him to look at the panel and automatically see that everything was fine. If an instrument registered an anomaly, he would spot it right off.
After a few minutes, Bowden returned and made his way into his seat.
Gostini looked over. “Should we put on the Bishop’s visibility lights?” he asked with a smile.
“Only if you feel a need to be closer to God,” Bowden answered back in the same spirit. He then added in a southern preacher style: “Praise the Lord but pass the bucks.”
They had been flying for more than two hours, just approaching the English Channel when something hit the fuselage near the cockpit with a noticeable thud.
“What the hell,” Bowden exclaimed, looking over at Gostini. “Did you hear that?”
Gostini nodded and again his eyes swept the instruments. Both pilots began checking their panels.
“Bird strike?” Gostini offered, without thinking but feeling his anxiety growing. This seemed like a repeat performance of their previous troubles.
“If so, our little feathered friend was wearing an oxygen mask,” Bowden muttered moving the controls gently to ensure their operation. The aircraft tipped to the left and then the right. Next the nose rose and then dipped and the pilot brought them back to their assigned altitude of 33,000 feet and shook his head. “Controls unrestricted...don’t know what it could have been.”
Without warning, two lights on the annunciator panel lit up showing a cabin pressure problem and a door open.
“Jesus...door open...cabin pressure,” Gostini said struggling to remain calm as the aircraft suddenly shook violently and Bowden fought to steady it.
Just as abruptly, both panel lights went out, and the aircraft steadied. The pilots looked at each other.
“We’ve got a situation,” Bowden said, shaking his head. “Contact London, we may need an altitude tout suite.”
“It’s got to be a circuit breaker,” Gostini ventured. “Want me to go back and do a visual on the doors.”
“Alright...but make it quick and watch yourself. Hang on to something solid until you can confirm we don’t have a defective door. I’ll contact London, declare an emergency and get a descent to 10,000 feet or below in case it blows. Watch yourself. Understood?”
“Got it.”
Gostini opened the cockpit door and moved through the pilot’s rest compartment into the sick bay. He checked that the forward passenger entrance door was secure as he moved back towards the office, the sleeping quarters and the common area near the tail. Along the way he opened each door to the next section with caution. Between the sick bay and the office, the modifiers had left a large section of typical airline seating where 20 people could be accommodated. With only a few lights on and no passengers, the cabin had taken on that eerie, empty dancehall look. He carefully checked the overwing emergency exits. All appeared secure. There was only the passenger aft entrance and possibly the emergency jettison-cable tail cone to examine. He entered the common area and stopped dead.
Ahead he could see the passenger aft entrance. The handle to the door was bent inward at an odd angle and he could see evidence of torn metal and scraped paint on the inside frame of the door as well as on the flange of the door itself. He felt his pulse quicken as he turned to head back forward to tell Bowden. If the aft door suddenly opened, he could easily be sucked out when depressurization occurred. But instead of continuing his retreat, he stopped. Because the door opened inward and the cabin was pressurized, it would take tens of tons of pressure to pry open the door from the inside. His mind raced – he’d been back before takeoff ensuring any loose objects were secure and the door had not been damaged. What had happened? What could possibly account for what he was seeing?
He moved carefully towards the intercom keeping a cautious eye on the door as he felt the aircraft suddenly slow and begin a descent. Good, he thought as he picked up the telephone and pushed the cockpit button. They were getting down to a flight level where they could more effectively manage a sudden depressurization if it occurred. Also there’d be air to breath.
“What did you find?” Bowden demanded, his voice tinny over the intercom.
“The aft passenger entrance door has damage to it.”
“Get out of there, Danny,” Bowden ordered. “Get out of there right now. We’re descending to 9,000 feet, so get back up here.”
There was no mistaking the tension in the pilot’s voice but Gostini’s attention was on something else. As though in a dream, he whispered to Bowden that he had to go. He hung up the handset and stared uncomprehendingly at the three-foot hole ripped in the floor of the cabin ten feet from him. The hole obviously led into the aft lower cargo compartment in the belly of the aircraft. It gaped open like a gutted fish daring him to come and look into it. Behind him he heard the buzzer for the intercom repeatedly calling to be answered but he paid it little heed.
Gostini moved towards the hole because he heard noise coming from the cargo compartment. In the half light, he could sense more than see someone down below as he leaned slightly forward. Cables and wires running under the floor had been pried and pulled aside but seemed to be undamaged. A shadowy bulk moved and something was dropped below with a metal clang. Gostini jumped, turned and hurried forward to the cockpit not bothering to close any doors behind him.
As the co-pilot entered the cockpit, Bowden turned in his seat. Even with his emergency oxygen mask on, Gostini could see the concern etched on his face. “Why didn’t you answer the intercom?” he barked, his annoyance evident.
“Wayne...there’s someone else on board.”
“What?” The pilot automatically checked his altimeter; they were descending through flight level two-two zero. “Are you sure?”
Gostini nodded and climbed into his seat. “There’s a hole in the aft cabin floor and someone is down in the cargo compartment.” It was plain he was shaken and scared.
“Who’s down there? What kind of hole?”
“A three-foot, rounded frigging hole that looks like it’s been chopped or somehow ripped open in the floor. There are cables and wire bundles exposed but they seem intact.”
“Jesus Christ! Stowaway?”
“You don’t understand. I checked this aircraft before we left making sure everything was secure. Because we’re turning the aircraft in, I looked in all storage compartments as well. There was no-one else aboard. Now it looks as though someone tried to pry open the aft door. And there’s a hole in the cabin floor and someone rummaging around in the cargo bay.”
Bowden glanced at the cockpit door. “We have to get him under control. Maybe he tried to open the door and when that failed, he got a fire axe and started chopping his way to China.”
Gostini hesitated. “I checked the aircraft pretty thoroughly.”
“Well he’s in here, isn’t he? Unless he just stopped in at 33,000 feet for a visit? Take control. We have clearance to 9,000 feet. Continue our descent and maintain the heading. I’ve got to get back there and stop this guy
before he kills us all.”
Bowden waited until Gostini was belted in, had donned his oxygen mask as required in a potential depressurization situation and nodded that he had control. Then he moved swiftly through the open doors until he came to the common area. He bent forward, looked through the door and quickly drew back his head. The damage to the passenger aft door was easily visible as well as the hole in the floor ahead. He decided that stealth might be a better initial approach. If he could see who he was dealing with, he might have a better chance of reasoning with his quarry.
The pilot quietly moved forward towards the hole. There was no sound from below. Gingerly he dropped to his knees and stretched out on the carpet to where he could just get his head through the hole to have a look. He could feel the vibration of the engines through the floor as he cautiously inched his body forward. His eyes approached the lip of the hole.
Nothing visible.
STOP!
An instinct, an inner voice screamed at him that all was not as it seemed. He found himself beginning to tremble as he heard a Velcro-like sound of tearing below and his nostrils detected a rotten smell that seemed to be coming from the hole. He shifted forward. Then a little more...so he could get his entire head through the opening. He moved his shoulders through the hole and dropped his head cautiously.
For a split second he didn’t believe what he was seeing, convinced that the blood rushing to his head was causing him to hallucinate. He was staring upside down at a horned, reptilian head fronted by two smoldering eyes. The creature’s teeth were bared as though in a smile. As Bowden desperately tried to draw back, two claws wrapped securely around his head and twisted. The last thing the pilot knew was the sound of cartilage tearing and the crunching of bone. Blackness.
In the cockpit, Gostini began to ease out of the descent so the altimeter would read exactly 9,000 feet as they leveled out. He resisted buzzing the back cabin in case he interfered with Bowden negotiating with whoever was there. The man was berserk to have gone through the floor that way. He could have severed sensitive wires that might have mortally wounded the big jet and sent them all plunging down into the dark ocean below. He had manually flown the aircraft for another five minutes when he suddenly felt the aircraft shudder as though a great weight had been placed on it. What was going on? He felt an icy fear in his stomach. Enough was enough. He keyed the microphone....
“Pan, pan, pan...London Control, this is Charter 104.”
“Charter 104...London Heathrow...go ahead.”
“London...Charter 104 declaring an emergency,” he stated flatly.
“Charter 104...what is the nature of your emergency?”
“London...we have an unauthorized personnel aboard and he appears to have chopped a hole in the floor of the aircraft. The Captain is back dealing with him.”
A rattle at the cockpit door made him turn in his seat. The door opened and Bowden stood in the doorway; Gostini sighed, much relieved. He pulled the oxygen mask from his face. “Wayne...what happened?” He stared closer at the captain and realized with a sudden sinking feeling that he was staring into sightless eyes just as the body was dropped to the floor.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph...” Gostini said, switching on the autopilot and pulling himself up from his seat to deal with the shadowy intruder looming in the doorway. Though he had never been a physical person, the adrenaline surged and he prepared to do battle.
The shadow moved into the light of the cockpit and taunted him in a rasping voice. “Do you renounce your heathen God and all He stands for throughout eternity?”
Gostini stared at the tall stranger standing before him. He was dressed in black from head to toe. Despite the situation Gostini thought that the man didn’t look mad. In fact he was extremely handsome, his black hair combed straight back, his deep blue eyes sporting a slight twinkle in them. And yet, at his feet lay Gostini’s obviously dead captain, his body a crumpled rag.
Suddenly the man’s head physically transformed from human to a reptilian looking creature and then back to the handsome stranger again. The co-pilot stared in horror, not believing what he was seeing. The monstrous creature’s head was suddenly back and it spoke again, this time through bladed teeth on which thick, green saliva glistened.
“If you wish to live, tell me where it is.” The voice coming out of the thing was low, almost seductive.
“M-Mother of God...w-what are you...?” Gostini stammered, fear and loathing obvious in his quivering voice.
“I am the future of earth and the eclipse of humankind,” the Beast answered.
“I-I...” Gostini stammered, lost for words.
“Your symbol...your relic...where is it?” pressed the creature, persuasively, almost gently. Its human-sounding voice was at odds with its terrifying form. It didn’t advance past the cockpit door.
To try to reassert his world, to try to force a sense of reality over what he was seeing, for just a split second, Gostini glanced back towards the glass cockpit with its computer screens, and modern controls which reassuringly told him this couldn’t be happening. There could not be a horned, prehistoric form standing in the middle of this high-tech imagery; it was impossible.
But when he turned back, it stood there still, yellow, half-hooded eyes fixed on him. It threw back its cape. Explosive energy and strength massed in muscles that rippled and flowed beneath a black leathery skin – a nightmare come to life.
“Not with us...” Gostini whispered, now understanding it was looking for the special package they were supposed to carry to London.
“Then renounce His teachings and you may live....” The lie dropped from curled lips and the co-pilot knew it immediately for what it was. But to Gostini, rather than continuing to feel fear, he suddenly felt hope. In fact, the world of which he and Bowden had been a part for the past two years suddenly made sense. The mysterious priests, the cardinal, the secret flights and meetings; the whisperings about a demon from hell had all been about this creature. That was the bad news. The good news was a new, stronger sense of his Catholic faith flowed into him. It gave him the hope and the strength he would need for his few remaining seconds on earth.
“Renounce him! Renounce him! RENOUNCE!” the Beast screamed at him.
But Gostini, good Catholic that he was, slowly shook his head. And with a certainty reserved for those who knew without question that they were about to die, he closed his eyes and carefully answered the demon.
“Our Father, who art in Heaven...hallowed be thy name....”
~ 6 ~
The telephone only rang twice before Malachi turned over in his bed and snatched it from the cradle. Even as he said hello, he was grabbing his alarm clock and peering at the blue green numerals: Midnight.
“Mustavias...it’s Heinz. The plane went down.”
“Plane? Our plane?” Malachi asked, tossing back the covers and sitting up on the side of the bed feeling his feet hit the cold floor.
“Yes....on its first leg to London. I just got a call from United. It happened about three hours ago. As aircraft owners United was notified first. Someone finally thought to inform us.
“Are they sure?”
“Yes...happened over the channel...the French Affaires Maritimes and Her Majesty’s Coast Guard have conducted a joint search and already located wreckage.”
“Who was on board?”
“Just the pilots.”
“Mother of God.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Alright...have their families been notified?”
“Not yet. We just found out. It’s all over the late news.”
“They’re sure it’s ours.”
“They don’t make mistakes about these things. We’re trying to find out what happened but all we know so far is that they declared an emergency because they suspected a door was ajar in mid-flight. They were cleared to descend to 9,000 feet and a little later they declared an unauthorized passenger on board. Then they just kept descending until they vanished off radar.”
<
br /> “Well for God’s sake find out where their families live and get the priest from the local dioceses to them right away. Or rather have Castilloux do it...he’s our PR guy. Also, see if there is anything we can do for their families. We all need to meet in an hour. Or at least the five of us left. There’s going to be a lot of questions from the press as to why the Catholic Church had an A320 on charter and we’d better cobble together a press release and a lot of answers to questions we’d rather not hear.”
“Right.”
“Alright...wait a minute. The Relic. It was to be dropped off in London. It was on board! And, so was Gant.”
“No...! When the aircraft was ordered back to New York to the leaser, Gant was afraid of foul-ups and took himself off the manifest. He’s still here in Rome with the Relic and plans to fly to London on a commercial carrier later this evening. Sorry about that, Chief; you should have been informed.”
“Not to worry,” Malachi said, in relief. For once Gant’s obsession with the Relic had paid off. “Gallo was expecting the package to be delivered by Father Gant. Find him at his hotel and get him teleconferenced in to our meeting so we’re all on the same page. I expect there will also be hell to pay coming from our Supreme Pontiff.”
“I’ll get on it. And Malachi?”
“What?”
“Good luck.” It was a strange thing for Rautenberg to say since he was the most pragmatic of the group and seldom indulged in idle salutations. Still, at this time it seemed appropriate.
“Thanks,” Malachi said. “We’ll all need it.”
They rang off and Malachi began to dress. Where was Gallo, he wondered? The man should have made contact with Maria and Clay yesterday, at the latest. And called in to report.
As he moved to the bathroom he made a mental note to call Maria and see if they’d heard from the old priest. It seemed things were coming apart faster than he could fix them.
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