Code Black

by Donlay, Philip S.

  “Positive.” Lauren reached out for her coffee, then gave Tucker a dismissive look to let him know he’d just been excused.

  As Tucker quietly shut the door, Lauren rose and locked it from the inside. She sat back down, dropped her cigarette into the can, and picked up her cell phone.

  “This won’t take long.” She tried to smile at Matt, but just couldn’t find one to give. The young man turned away as if to provide her some privacy, then absently picked up a nearby laser pointer and began to mindlessly click it on and off. Lauren watched as the spot of intense red light danced aimlessly around the wall and ceiling. Matt repeatedly sliced the beam through the cloud of smoke from their cigarettes. Lauren looked at Matt as she swept her phone to her ear. She very subtly shook her head in reference to the distracting light.

  “Whoops.” Matt shrugged an apology and thrust the device into his coat pocket

  “Hello,” came Michael’s confident tone.

  “Michael, it’s me.” At the sound of his voice, Lauren found it almost impossible to sort through the rapidly shifting events. The uncertainty of what had happened to Donovan was becoming harder to deal with.

  “Do you know anything yet?” Michael said loudly, the sound of gale-force winds rustling through the connection.

  “No,” Lauren said, as a surprise sob escaped from her throat.

  “I got a call from your boss,” Michael said, hoping to comfort her. “Calvin brought me up to date and is trying to use some military contacts to get me to O’Hare. Hopefully I can hitch a ride on a truck or a jeep and get to you. Lauren, please hang in there, I’m coming as fast as I can, but the storm is really getting wound up.”

  “I’m glad Calvin called you,” Lauren managed to whisper. “Hurry. Just get here. I need you.”

  “It’s going to be all right,” Michael reassured her. “Calvin told me there has only been one crash. I, for one, am hanging onto that scenario. For all we know, Donovan is sitting in first class, pissed off that the onboard phones quit working.”

  “I know,” Lauren said, grateful for Michael’s typically upbeat words.

  “I’ll keep you posted on my progress. Call me the moment you hear from him.”

  “I will. Bye.” Lauren ended the call as her eyes filled with tears. Another sob escaped as she covered both of her eyes with one hand. More tears cascaded down her cheeks as she wept silently. To her surprise, she felt a hand reach out and take hers. She looked up and saw that Matt, too, had tears running down his face. She squeezed hard and they clung to each other, survivors, waiting for the answers to unthinkable questions.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Donovan pulled the oxygen mask off his head and relished the cool air on his face. They were nearing 10,000 feet and he could now breathe safely on his own. He inhaled deeply, and then wiped the perspiration from his cheeks. He massaged his face where the rubber had pressed hard into his skin. He thought of removing the mask from the captain, but decided the 100% oxygen might prove beneficial for the injured man.

  Level at 10,000 feet, with a lower cloud deck still below them, Donovan leveled the aircraft and nudged the throttles forward. He had no idea how much fuel was on board and by going slow, he could conserve what they did have—plus he really didn’t know where they were, or where they might be headed.

  The dull roar of the slipstream decreased as the 737 slowed. A noise to Donovan’s left announced Audrey’s return from the cabin. His earlier fear at being alone vanished at the sight of her. “You can take off your mask,” Donovan said as she slid past the mangled door. He faced forward, trying to limit his exposure to this woman from his past.

  Audrey slipped free from the clumsy mask and bottle and lowered it to the floor. “God, that feels better. I was getting worried; the tank is basically showing empty. How are you doing up here? I’m sorry it took me so long, but it’s truly a mess back there. The medical kit was somehow wedged in its compartment.” She paused for a moment. “You saved my life and I don’t even know your name.”

  “I’m Donovan Nash,” he said warily, without facing her. He braced himself for any clue that she had recognized him.

  “I’m Audrey Parrish. I’m so glad you did what you did.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “How did all this…” she gestured with her hands at the obvious destruction on the flight deck. “I was walking to the restroom, then you pulled me into the seat. Right before—” she searched for the words. “Right before what? What happened to us?”

  “We were hit by another plane.” Donovan realized her view of the impact had been blocked, she had no idea what had happened. “I only saw it at the last second. You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “No. I’m not too bad, considering.” Her eyes darted to his hairline. “But you have a cut on your head that needs attention.”

  He touched his temple and his hand came away with a trace of blood. It didn’t particularly hurt. “I’m fine. Can you do something for him?”

  “Right after I bandage your head.” She knelt and opened the medical kit. She found the necessary items and ripped open a foil packet. “This might sting a little bit.”

  Donovan winced she dabbed the antiseptic on his skin. He didn’t know if it was from the pain or from his discomfort at her proximity.

  “Hang on, it’s more of a scrape than a deep cut. I’m almost finished, just let me stick a bandage on this.” Audrey tenderly smoothed out the adhesive. “How does that feel?”

  “Better. Thanks.” He adjusted the throttles and kept his face glued to the horizon. “Can you help him?”

  Audrey didn’t move. She looked at him closely. “Have we ever met?”

  “I don’t think so.” Donovan nearly flinched as he held his breath.

  “I swear you remind me of someone.”

  “I get that a lot.” Donovan gestured to the unconscious form in the left seat. “Can you see to him?”

  Audrey’s gaze lingered on Donovan for a moment before she moved to the captain. She carefully pressed her fingers to his neck. “He has a good pulse,” she announced. The captain’s head rolled down and rested on his chest.

  Donovan flew the airplane and glanced over as Audrey took another antiseptic wipe and carefully cleaned the blood from the man’s head. With the blood cleaned from his face, he looked remarkably better. The captain appeared to be fairly young despite a receding hairline and a small paunch. He possessed rather soft, rounded facial features, accented by bushy dark eyebrows. The same thick hair covered his arms, which rested limply in his lap. Donovan watched as Audrey put a bandage over his wound to protect it. It looked like the bleeding had all but stopped.

  “How bad is it back there?” Donovan asked about the people in the cabin and the horrible scene he’d witnessed on his way to the cockpit.

  “After you left, everyone else blacked out one by one.” She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip at the memory. “The flight attendant you saved is awake, but she’s in pretty bad shape. I did manage to get her into a seat and cover her with a blanket, but she can’t move her arm or shoulder. Besides being traumatized, I’m pretty sure she broke something when she fell.”

  “Has anyone else come around, anyone at all?”

  “No. Not that I saw. But I was busy trying to pry the medical kit free.” Audrey lowered her voice and tried to sound optimistic. “It might take them a little while.”

  “That’s true.” Despite himself, Donovan made momentary eye contact with Audrey. Her obvious anguish betrayed her optimistic hopes, as she probably held the same fear he did; no one in the back was going to wake up.

  “You seem to know your way around a 737.” Donovan knew she’d been around airplanes for the better part of the last two decades, but he had a vested interest in keeping up the thin charade that they’d just met.

  “My husband, Henry, is the chief pilot for Wayfarer Airlines. We used to fly a lot together, so I guess it goes with the territory.”

  Donovan pictured the man she was talking about, though he had
n’t seen or spoken with Henry in eighteen years—he’d known the man well. In fact, he’d known Henry longer than Audrey had. Seeing her had somehow released a floodgate of memories. Be very careful, Donovan warned himself.

  “I’m going to take his mask off,” Audrey said as she searched the medical kit. Moments later, she found what she wanted and broke the capsule in two. She slipped off the oxygen mask and held the smelling salts under the captain’s nose until the man’s head jerked and twisted to the side. She reached across him and waved the vial once again. His eyes fluttered open and he immediately flailed at the offending odor.

  “Can you hear me?” Audrey questioned as she gazed at the man’s face.

  “What the…where are we?” The captain’s words came out thickly as he shook his head to escape the pungent odor.

  Audrey and Donovan watched as the captain struggled to pull himself out of the black hole he’d been in. Audrey leaned over him, trying to gauge his recovery.

  Suddenly, the man jerked upright as if scalded by boiling water. His expression filled with terror. “What in the—oh shit!”

  “Stop him! Get him off!” Donovan yelled as he fought to override the dangerous inputs. “Get him off the controls!”

  Audrey reached in and fought to pull the captain’s hands free. She lost her leverage as the airplane banked hard to the left, then climbed. She still held the capsule in her hand and forced it back under his nose. He twisted his head violently and swung an elbow toward her ribs. Audrey avoided the blow, found her balance, and used all her strength to slap him hard across the face. She’d aimed for the bandage she’d so carefully affixed to his forehead and the effect was immediate. The man cried out in pain as he released his grip, then cradled his head in his hands, rocking back and forth as he moaned.

  “Captain. Listen to me. The airplane is under control.” Audrey spoke reassuringly. “You’ve been out for a little while. Take a few deep breaths, but don’t touch anything.” Her voice softened. “Sorry I hit you. How do you feel? Look at me.” She put her hand around his and squeezed. “Do you know where you are? Do you remember what happened?”

  The captain let out another moan as his eyes tried to fix on the person in front of him. His voice was weak but clear. “God, my head hurts.” His fingers went to his head and he touched the bandage. “What in the hell happened?”

  “We were hit by another plane.” Donovan leaned forward to assess the man’s condition.

  “Where’s Jeff?” He asked, his voice stronger this time. “Where’s my first officer?”

  Audrey averted her eyes for a moment, looking behind her to where the copilot’s body was still laying on the floor. “He didn’t survive.”

  Confusion clouded the captain’s face. “Jeff’s dead?” He turned toward Donovan, his voice filled with bewilderment. “A midair? You saw it happen?”

  “I saw the plane only a few seconds before it hit us. It looked like a military plane, maybe a KC-135. It came from our two o’clock position.” Donovan pointed out the right window to indicate the angle. “It was in and out of the clouds. Didn’t you get a warning from Center, or a TCAS alert?”

  “Nothing. Last thing I can recall was—” he paused and fought through the pain as he searched his clouded memory. “I remember now. I was attempting to talk to Air Traffic Control, but we weren’t getting an answer. That’s all I remember. I never saw a thing.”

  “What’s TCAS?” Audrey asked.

  “It’s a system that allows two airplanes to talk to each other electronically,” Donovan explained. “It’s a system designed to prevent midair collisions. Normally, there should have been multiple warnings up here in the cockpit that there was another airplane. It should have also given them the correct resolution to the conflict, told them to either climb or dive.”

  “You said the other plane was military?” the captain asked, as he struggled to piece together the information.

  Donovan nodded. “From where I was sitting, it looked like we were shooting through a small gap in the line of thunderstorms. That’s probably what the other airplane was doing, too. But if you didn’t get a warning from Center, or a TCAS warning, I doubt you could have reacted even if you’d seen them.” He could tell the man was processing the information. “We’ve lost the entire electrical system. Shouldn’t the ship’s main batteries be providing us with at least standby power to the essential instruments? I need your help in trying to get some of this back.”

  “Who are you?” the captain asked.

  “My name is Donovan Nash. I’m a corporate pilot.” Donovan simplified the task of explaining. “I fly Gulfstream jets out of Dulles. This is Audrey.”

  “What’s your name?” Audrey asked the befuddled captain.

  “My name is John. John Thornton.”

  “We were lucky Donovan was with us, John,” Audrey added. “He saved all of us by managing to make his way up here and fly the plane.”

  John grimaced as he began to survey the wrecked remains of his cockpit, squinting from the pain. “I think I’m okay; just give me a second. How long—” his words came out muffled and strained. “How long was I out? Where are we?”

  Donovan glanced at his watch. “You were out at least twenty minutes. We’re down at 10,000 feet. We had an explosive decompression so we had to descend. My guess is we’re about 70 or 80 miles northwest of the line of thunderstorms.”

  John’s eyes widened as he assessed the situation.

  “John, we need to figure all this out.” Donovan watched as the man surveyed the cockpit. He hoped John was making sense of what he found. “Anything obvious? I don’t know anything about 737s. Like I said, I fly Gulfstreams.” Donovan’s hopes sagged as John looked at him in confusion.

  “I don’t even know where to start,” John said. “We must have been hit from above?”

  “That’s right. Can you tell if we have any power available?” Donovan urged. He started with the basics common in all aircraft. “Check the amps and the volts. Find out what we have.”

  John pulled his attention to the overhead panel. His head swayed slightly as he fought to understand. He reached up and rotated two knobs. A perplexed look clouded his face.

  “Anything?” Donovan continued flying the airplane, but kept a close eye on what John was doing, grateful that Audrey’s full attention was focused on John and not himself.

  “It just doesn’t make sense. Nothing. We’re reading nothing. No power at all.” John lowered his head and held it in both hands.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Audrey asked, hovering close. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  John raised his head and smiled weakly at Audrey, then struggled to sit upright. “We need to check the circuit breaker panel. Are the people in back okay? What about the rest of my crew?” John tried to pivot all the way around toward Audrey, but wasn’t quite up to the effort. His shoulders slumped and he exhaled heavily.

  “We have some casualties. One of the flight attendants survived, but she’s injured.” Audrey hesitated for a moment. “I’ll bring you up to date on all of that later. I think you need to help Donovan get some of the instruments back.”

  “Okay, right. The panel behind me, it’s one of the electrical sub-panels. Can you see anything?”

  Audrey looked directly behind where John sat. “I see rows of what look like little buttons. A whole bunch of them seem to be popped out.”

  “Okay. Good, those are the circuit breakers. Look for the ones with larger numbers written on them; they’ll be the ones carrying the most amperage. Can you read them to me?”

  “It’s too dark to see the labels,” Audrey replied.

  “Here,” John said, his voice came across a little stronger than before. “Use this.”

  Audrey switched on the flashlight John had pulled from its bracket. “That’s better, I can see them now. I found some with 30 written on them. AC Bus. DC Bus. One says UNSW, the other says SW,” Audrey called out after a quick search. “You want me to
keep going?”

  Donovan guessed she had found some of the more important ones. Thirty-amp breakers served the larger systems. The other letters probably stood for switched and un-switched, but he wasn’t sure what the significance was. “John, what does that mean?”

  “Uh, hang on a second.” John paused for a moment as he thought. “If those are out, the power from the generators isn’t getting to the main bus. We need to push all of those in.”

  “Not yet, Audrey,” Donovan warned. “I don’t think we can just start resetting breakers. We have so much damage we could easily start a fire.”

  “Generator Bus one.” John looked at Donovan as if suddenly remembering. “We need to reset it; that’s the one we want.”

  “Audrey, can you find that one? It’s probably marked GEN BUS 1.” It made sense. Donovan felt encouraged by John’s small, yet significant recovery.

  It took her a moment to read the small labels. “I found it. Yes, it’s out.”

  John pulled himself upright; he clamped his jaw tightly at the pain, but only for a second. He released the air slowly from between his teeth. “Donovan. Over on your side should be the emergency checklist. Let me have a look at that before we do anything rash.” He pressed his eyes shut again.

  Donovan found the manual John wanted and passed it over to him. In doing so, Donovan couldn’t help but notice how much John’s hand was trembling.

  “I’m sure that’s the one we need to reset,” John said emphatically, as he quickly flipped through the pages of the checklist.

  Donovan was relieved that John had actually made a decision, though whether or not it was the right one remained to be seen. “Okay. I’m with you on this. Let’s give it a try.”

  John looked up from the checklist, shrugged, and put it aside. “That’s got to be it—that breaker is as good a place to start as any. To be real honest, the checklist doesn’t really cover midair collisions.”

  Donovan grinned inwardly at John’s comment, more because it showed the man was regaining his faculties than for the humor. “I think we have to give it a try. We can’t do anything with what we have now. But I’ll tell you, the overhead panel really worries me. It’s already shifted once from the turbulence. There’s so much damage, I’m worried about a fire. I’d say a major short is a very real possibility. It’s probably why all those breakers popped in the first place.”