Thirty Thousand Feet
Tracy Wilson
June 23rd, 2010
Eighty souls occupied the Boeing 737 on a nonstop red-eye from Dallas to New York, departing five minutes after midnight. United Flight 1269 climbed rapidly, passed through a thin layer of clouds and turned to the northeast. A full moon hung from the heavens, escorting a long string of stars that spread out as far as the eye could see.
Seat number C-34 in coach was right next to the window and six rows from first class. It gave the passenger sitting in it an excellent view of the night sky and he stared out at the dark; watching as thousands of lights twinkled and surged, slowly fading away when the plane shot up through more clouds. The man was above average looking and didn’t raise any suspicions with cropped dark hair and a day’s growth of beard. Blue jeans and a black dress shirt hid a well toned body and black boots finished off the look. A low profile was something he had perfected over the years, confident no one would even pay him any attention. However, if anyone dared to take a longer look would realize this was a man you didn’t want to mess with.
Elliot Bane loved the job, but despised the hours. It had been a tedious transition and the change of hours had been rough. Considering the fiasco in Barcelona two months ago, things were on the upswing. Regardless, the loss had taken its toll and no matter how hard he tried, Elliot couldn’t shake it. That had been a complete mess, he mused …shaking away the thoughts. Bad dreams had kept him up for days. But it was what it was and Elliot had to deal with it on his own terms-to the chagrin of his supervisor. To set his mind right, he looked over the rows of seats, counting the steps between his spot and the front- calculating how quickly it would take him to get to the pilot. At thirty thousand feet, reaction time was critical. There was no room for mistakes.
At thirty four, he felt on top of the game. It wasn’t perfect of course. Nothing was in this day and age. However, life had been decent enough that he really couldn’t find any complaint. Other than the fact that he was still single… under the circumstances it was hard to keep a serious relationship. Not that he had any issues with the opposite sex. It was just the fact that most times it ended too quickly and more times than not, too messy. Elliot chewed on his lip in thought, trying to rationalize his past mistakes with women. It wasn’t the fact that he didn’t try. He had always given more than a hundred percent…
Perhaps he thought, that right there was the problem. Always trying too hard to make the relationship work. But with his type of work schedule, maybe things went too fast. Elliot’s mind wandered for a moment, turning each memory over for a closer look, examining every success and mistake. Which according to him, the mistakes outnumbered the successes seven to three. Each one of their names etched into his soul so that he wouldn’t forget.
He eyed the flight attendant’s reflection and immediately recognized her. A cute red-head. Petite with a great bubble-butt. He always had a weakness for red-heads and glanced at his watch. She was busy with another passenger just ahead of him. He focused in on her, watching each subtle move she made. Each smile that curved her lips as she chatted with the older man until she broke away and walked toward the front. He was half tempted to stop her, but froze. It had been almost two years since the last time he had seen her… and now. Now he couldn’t even think straight. Two years since a broken promise had ended something that could have been. Even with the age difference… his mind calculating that she would be twenty three by now.
Bad thoughts came crashing back and he stood, making a beeline to the bathroom. With the door secured, he stared at the reflection. Flipping through the what if’s and should haves that could have happened between them. Too many circumstances that threatened to drive him crazy. Elliot quickly relieved himself and turned to the sink, washing his face and hands vigorously, trying to forget. He nearly freaked out when he looked up and saw someone else in the mirror.
“Thomas?” he said.
It had to be an hallucination. Too many hours and not enough sleep.
“Hello buddy,” the apparition replied. “And no, you’re not seeing things.
“Bullshit,” Elliot said. Rubbing his eyes. “I’m just tired. That’s all.”
“Elliot, you goofy bastard. Did you forget last night already?”
The words of his dead partner froze him with a chill. “It was only a dream.” Elliot said, staring at the mirror.
“Not just a dream, my friend. If you had only met me half way, I would have been able to tell you. But you wouldn’t open up and be receptive.”
“You’re dead, brother. This can’t be... it’s impossible. I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“Nothing is impossible, Elliot. No matter what your brain says, this is very real and you have to listen. I don’t have a lot of time, okay? You have to pay attention and not screw this up. Your life depends on it.”
Elliot shook his head. Unable to believe. This didn’t make sense.
“There’s something coming. I don’t know exactly what it is brother… but it's some serious shit. You have to get the Captain to land this plane at the nearest runway. Get everyone out.”
“Is it a bomb?” Elliot asked.
“No, something worse.”
“What can be worse than a bomb?” Elliot asked, raising his voice to no one in the tiny room. “Seriously… if I’m going to risk my neck over some kind of messed up mind fuck… I have to have something for God’s sake.”
“I don’t have all the details and my time is running out. I wish I had more for you... I really do. No matter what you have to trust me. Get this plane on the ground, okay? And be ready. Get your balls screwed on tight, cause the shit is about to hit the fan.”
And like that, Elliot was staring at his own reflection. Confusion muddling his brain as he tried to shake the uneasy feeling. Uncertainty played tricks on his mind as he made his way back to the seat. The face of his partner haunting him as he scanned each passenger. He wondered if any could pose a serious threat, but none had met the criteria that would have raised the alarm, so he dismissed that idea. He stomped out the absurdity of the whole encounter that just occurred and filed it under stress. It was nothing more than a brief lapse of reality and he had to get his mind right. No distractions. But despite his best efforts, it took a brief glimpse of red hair to make him forget. The image flipped a switch in his brain.
Elliot pushed away the negativity of his relationship with her as if it were a persistent fly. No, not this time. He would make things right with her. He would correct the old mistake and… the thought died as quickly as it had formed. What if she was seeing someone else? Maybe even married now? Kids? He hadn’t noticed a ring on her finger when she passed.
His mind floated back to that night they had met. Caught between flights, she had been aggressively negotiating an ATM when he happened by. The colorful language she used had caught his attention and he made the first move. Engaging her in a brief yet interesting conversation, she had reluctantly agreed to a cup of coffee. And slowly, very slowly… he had cracked her shell open just enough to see the real her. The bright, funny and so full of life version that made him weak in the knees. They parted with the intentions of meeting in Chicago in two weeks and this time he promised it would be more than just coffee. With a smile, she handed him a piece of paper- one that he didn’t look at until she had been gone for a full ten minutes.
Anna Bishop. She had even dotted the i with a small heart along with her phone number and email. She got right to the point when she underlined Don’t leave me hanging.
He smiled at that memory.
He looked around the cabin. Most of the passengers were either occupied with books or settling in for the three hour and forty minute flight. The cabin lights were dimmed and Elliot debated on what to do. He had one of his favorite books stashed away in the carry-on bag -which he had yet to even crack open in a month- or… his mind drifted for a second until he heard a commotion that put him on alert.
She -Anna- passe
d him, leading a middle aged man by the arm. He wore a business suit and held a white cloth to his mouth that was stained red. Powers of observation. Years of training taught him to take in every aspect of his surroundings. Elliot could see the concern on the flight attendant’s young face, but he knew they were trained to handle any emergency, so he didn’t worry. It didn’t look too bad from what he saw anyway. Elliot casually leaned to the side and hazarded a look back, catching the sway of her hips and trying to imagine what she looked like naked. Twenty three was a good age, he thought with a grin.
The cell phone vibrated with a text message, interrupting the moment of appreciation and forcing Elliot to twist and fish it out of his jeans.
*****
Israel Dajovic could feel it. Something wasn’t right and as he took a deep breath to stop the panic… It was an excruciating pain. Starting deep within the stomach. At first, he thought it was merely a reaction from the food. But the longer he sat, the worse it got. Sweat beaded across his forehead. He reached for the call button, doubling over and gasping for breath. He pushed the button again. Hands shaking, trying to wipe away the sweat. The first cough sent a bolt of pain throughout his chest. And then another. He reached for a handkerchief, coughing violently and praying that he wouldn’t throw up. That would not be very dignified. He caught a child staring at him from across the aisle and wiped his mouth.
“Something's coming.” the child said to him.
“Sorry?” Israel said, staring at the boy.
“Be ready.”
“What?” the man demanded, blinking as his vision blurred. “Sergey? Is that you?”
The young boy only laughed.
“No, no, no… this was impossible.” Israel said. His son had been dead for ten years.
“Sir? Are you okay?” the flight attendant said, pushing back a strand of her red hair.
He stared at the woman, confused and frustrated. “That child…”
“What child?” she asked.
Israel looked at the empty seat. Fear reaching into his thoughts as he began to think it was a heart attack. He started to stand.
“Do you need help, sir?.” Anna asked, using her hand to steady him when he stood.
“Yes. Yes, please. I’m not feeling well,” he replied, holding a cloth to his lips.
After walking to the lavatory he thanked the young flight attendant and locked the bathroom door behind him. He bent forward and spit up blood into the sink. After a moment, he splashed cold water onto this face as the feeling faded. In his fifty years of life, Israel had never been this sick and it worried him. Another coughing fit and this time he threw up a lot more blood. The pain inside him felt unbearable and it drove him to his knees. He gasped.
Mind racing with panic, Israel’s body began to shake. He recalled the young woman from last night. She had been a high-end escort. Very beautiful. Very young. Curves in all the right places. His assistant Caesar had picked the young woman personally and there had been no doubt it had been an excellent choice. Even the hefty price had been well worth it, though he had tired easily after an hour or so. But there had been something strange about her behavior. Some of the things she wanted to do and experiment had been interesting to say the least. He tried to wrap his mind around all that had occurred when his body started to shut down. The world closed in, faded into nothing and Israel Dajovic died at thirty thousand feet very much alone. His body slumped to the floor and fell against the door.
*****
Captain William Kennedy wasn’t sure as to what he had heard. The words had been mixed in with static and loud pops that came from the headset. He adjusted the earpiece and double checked the radar. So far, there were no signs of any bad weather and this lead him to believe he may have been hearing things.
“Did you say something, Alex?” he asked, looking at the co-pilot
“Hmm?” the other man answered.
“Did you say something?”
“No, sir,” the co-pilot said.
“Must have been radio static,” William replied, tapping the headset and setting the auto-pilot.
The radio popped again, alternating between traffic from other planes and something odd. With nearly twenty years of service, William had experienced many strange occurrences that he couldn’t rationally explain. He had simply put it away, never dwelling on it much as if it were nothing. However…
“William.” The voice cracked and fizzed from the headset. Catching him off guard.
He turned again to the co-pilot. “Stop playing games, Richard.”
“He can’t hear you,” the female voice said. This time it was familiar. The same one he had heard two nights ago.
“Please stop,” he begged as he tried to close his mind from the pain.
“You know I can’t. They won’t let me.”
“I don’t…” he started when the sting hit him in the chest. “Elizabeth, please…”
“I thought you loved me.”
“I do. And I always will.”
“Is that what you thought when you were with that whore two nights ago? Is that how you show your love?”
“You’ve been gone a very long time,” he said, gaining confidence while wondering if he was losing his mind. The co-pilot sitting beside him didn't seem to hear or realize anyone else was talking, yet he was. They were.
“I’m sorry my love,” the voice replied. “I suppose it's hard to see you with someone else. We were together for so many years. I won’t lie when I say it hurts. But… I can understand.”
“Then I must suffer your ghost?” he asked.
“You know why I’ve come to you, William. We spoke in your dreams, remember?”
How could he forget? It had been one of the most terrifying experiences. So realistic that it had forced him to miss a day of work. And now by mentioning it, the details came flooding back. “I don’t know if I can,” he whispered. Hesitant. Praying she would go away.
It took a few seconds before the voice came back. “They are very clear and precise.”
“I won’t.”
“You’ll leave me here to suffer for eternity then? Is that how you want to remember me?”
Her words started to break his heart and he wiped at the tears. “There are too many innocent souls on this plane, Elizabeth. What you’re asking me to do…”
The radio crackled again and for a moment, he thought the ordeal was over.
“William… please. I’m begging you. And you know in all the years we were married… I never asked or begged of you for anything.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “I will do as you ask.”
“Thank you, William. Don’t worry about what is coming. While there will be loss and the world will suffer… you’re doing the right thing.”
“What if someone sees me?”
“Your actions will be concealed. But do not hesitate; it will be only for a few minutes.”
“Then you will leave me in peace?” he asked.
“Yes, my love. I will be set free and you will only be left of memories of what we had.”
William swallowed hard, knowing the decision to follow through would be the end. “I will always love you.”
There was no reply when he stood and excused himself from the cockpit. He counted each seat as it had been instructed to him in the dream. He removed the pen knife from his jacket and carefully placed it in the lap of a sleeping woman. Not even taking the time to look at her. He was too afraid. Afraid of what would happen. With a last minute burst of clarity, William pivoted and returned to the cockpit. He locked the door and promptly released the fire extinguisher from the wall mount. He struck the co-pilot in the head from behind. It took three vicious swings before William stopped; sickened at what he had done. There was no rationalizing it, he thought. No going back. But at least the other man wouldn’t have to suffer once the events started.
William quietly settled into his chair and closed his mind to every thought. Every nerve that ached and throbbed from the center of
his core. Without a doubt, he would pay for taking this path, but at least he would finally find peace and quiet.
*****
Elliot couldn’t quite make out the text message and he re-read it three times. There had been an incident at one of those ritzy Dallas hotels and the local police had called in the FBI. It was a mess from what he could tell; within an hour the media was all over it like sharks. He got up, stretched and headed towards the back of the plane, stopping at the curtain that blocked off the flight attendants area. Nervously scratching his face, he parted the curtain. A male steward was sipping a bottle of water, quietly conversing with a female co-worker. Elliot was about to speak when another text came through. This one had a name and photo on it and the suspect was on board. All efforts to secure the person would have to be taken. Authorities would be waiting on them in New York.
The woman looked up. “May I help you Marshal?”
“Can you please check the manifest for a Nora Grant for me?”
“Of course,” she replied and pulled out an electronic device. “Is there a problem?”
“I don’t think there will be,” he lied.
The woman scrolled down the list of passengers. “Here you go. First class, seat A-6.”
He eyed a glimpse of her bare leg. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” she replied with a cozy and inviting smile. “Anything else you need help with?”
He returned the smile, catching her subtle wink. And then it hit him. Becky...
His stomach dropped and those deep, sea green eyes bore into him. She had chatted him up roughly eight months ago. His brain stumbled over itself as he dredged up memories… They had coffee and an hour later, she had him in her apartment.
“You don’t remember, do you?” she asked with another toothy grin.
“Uh-oh,” the steward with the water added.
“Cat got your tongue, Elliot?” she purred.
Unhappy Endings: Tales from the world of Adrian's Undead Diary Page 8