Equal Time Point

by Harrison Jones

  “Slats extend, Robby.”

  Robby moved the handle, and they felt the slats on the front of the wing extend, creating extra lift and allowing them to slow.

  “Flaps fifteen.”

  The airplane tried to balloon as the flaps created even more lift. Charlie pushed the nose forward enough to keep them level.

  “Flaps thirty-five.”

  They continued to slow.

  Charlie added power from the center engine. The thrust from the engine mounted high on the tail, and above the airplane’s center of gravity, tried to push the nose down. Charlie corrected with elevator and stabilizer trim.

  “Flaps fifty.”

  A loud horn began to sound and an electronic voice said, “Landing gear, too low. Landing gear, too low.”

  The warning was designed to prevent accidentally landing with the wheels up and there was no button to silence it. The checklist had not mentioned this, and it took them by surprise. If he had realized it earlier, he would have found the circuit breakers and pulled them to disable it, but there was no time now. Charlie let the airplane slow to one hundred and forty knots, which translated to over one hundred and sixty miles per hour, but that was as slow as they could safely fly. Charlie lowered the nose and adjusted the thrust, and they began slowly descending the last thousand feet, hoping that they would see the water before they impacted it. He extended the landing lights and turned them on, creating a bright white world as the beams reflected off the clouds. He wanted to smash the horn and electronic voice, but it kept blaring away. There was nothing he could do about it.

  He slowed the rate of descent to one hundred feet per minute and had resigned himself to a blind landing when, at two hundred feet, the white windshield began to show shades of gray, and then dark water appeared as the landing lights created a long bright tunnel between the base of the clouds and the water.

  “Give the brace signal, Robby.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Lieutenant Todd Gray stared out the windshield of the P3 Orion aircraft. The US Navy patrol airplane was normally used as a submarine hunter, but tonight Todd and his crew had been scrambled from the Naval Air Station at Rota, Spain, in response to Tri Con Eleven’s mayday. The P3 was a slow, turboprop-driven craft, but it had excellent range and endurance. It was not unusual, with its four engines, to stay aloft for twelve to fourteen hours on patrol.

  Todd looked at the cloud deck below them and hoped it would clear before they reached the search area. They had been airborne more than two hours and were passing north of Lajes on the way to the last known position of the missing aircraft. He checked the weather at Lajes and was not optimistic. The P3 cruised at twenty-three thousand feet and bucked a forty knot headwind. The only good news was that the sun would be up soon. With nothing better to do, Todd decided to gather information.

  “Karuk, Navy Search Eight, on guard, over.”

  “Navy Eight, Karuk, go ahead.”

  “Karuk, have you received anything more from Tri Con?”

  “Negative Navy Eight. We’re on guard, but no joy.”

  “What’s the ceiling and visibility at your position?”

  “Our mast is practically in the soup and visibility is probably less than a mile.”

  “You’re full of good news, Karuk. What’s your time en route to the search area?”

  “Approximately one-five hours.”

  “Did you try raising the anchor?”

  At three thirty in the morning, the Tri Con flight control center in Atlanta was a beehive of activity. The vice president of flight operations had been summoned from his warm bed and was joined by the chief pilot. They were now gathered in the conference room with the dispatcher for Flight Eleven, the meteorologist on duty, the vice president of technical operations, and one of Molly Jackson’s assistants, Jenny Kramer. The FAA had been notified, and soon a safety inspector would arrive to start gathering all the official documentation for the flight.

  Tom Hanes, the VP of flight operations said, “So all we know at this point is that they didn’t report at thirty west, and then the Navy received a mayday.”

  Chuck Latimer, the chief pilot answered, “That’s it Tom, but I think it’s pretty clear they’re down. The radios were working when they talked to the Navy ship, and they haven’t been heard from since. We’re getting our information second hand from Santa Maria radio, but it seems accurate so far.”

  “Okay, the first thing I want to do is take care of the crew members’ families. Let’s get personal representatives out to their homes before they hear it on the news. Chuck, get the pilots’ addresses and phone numbers, and Jenny, you do the same for the flight attendants.

  He turned to the vice president of technical operations.

  “Jake, start gathering every piece of paper we have on ship 826. Let’s have a look at the logbook pages for the last month and see if we made any mistakes. Even paperwork errors will be huge with the FAA. Anybody have other ideas?”

  Jenny Kramer said, “Don’t forget, Molly Jackson and Allen Smallwood were on there. Should we send someone to be with their family?”

  “Absolutely. Make it happen.”

  “Molly’s mother is the only relative she has that I know of, and she lives in Birmingham.”

  “Like I said, make it happen. Call the Birmingham station manager and wake him up. He can send someone or go himself.”

  Pattie had tossed and turned for more than an hour after Charlie’s antique alarm had mysteriously awakened her. She had finally given up, dressed in an old pair of sweats, and decided to read more of the novel. By the time the phone beside her recliner rang, her intuition had already been active for quite some time. Still, she let it ring three times before she picked it up, looked at the caller ID, and saw “Mobile Caller.”

  “Mrs. Wells, this is Jenny Kramer with Tri Con. I’m so sorry to wake you. There has been an incident with your husband’s flight, and we would like to fill you in on what we know. We would like to talk to you in person if that’s all right.”

  “What happened?”

  “It would be easier if we talked in person, Mrs. Wells.”

  “I want to know now.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Myself and one of the assistant chief pilots are in your driveway, if we could come in, please.”

  Pattie turned on lights as she walked through the house. She had never once doubted Charlie, and she refused to accept that anything could happen to him now.

  Charlie added thrust and skimmed just beneath the clouds. The water looked dark and murky, but relatively smooth. He had envisioned giant rolling swells and white-capped waves, but was relieved to see very little chop and no visible swell at all. He turned slightly to the right to land into what little wind there was and began to slowly drift down. He told Robby to be ready to cut the fuel to the engine as soon as they touched down. He didn’t want to go scooting along the ocean surface like a swamp buggy with a big fan mounted on it. The visibility was very restricted and the water passing beneath them was dizzying. Charlie tried to focus on a point as far away as possible and concentrated on the instruments to guide him as well. It was extremely difficult to force himself to continue slowly descending, but he knew the engine could stop at any moment or a ship could appear in the windshield with no way to avoid it. The inevitable had arrived, and he was sick of hearing “Landing gear too low,” and the loud horn.

  The radio altimeter appeared to be accurate and as the airplane approached the surface, a new electronic voice joined the chorus.

  “Fifty…forty…thirty,” the altimeter called out the height above touchdown. “Twenty…ten…”

  There was a slight discrepancy because when the wheels should be touching down there was no landing gear, but Charlie held the nose up in a normal landing attitude. He suddenly felt a jolting impact as the tail struck the surface. A huge plume of water erupted over the stabilizer, and the airplane decelerated at a dangerous rate, heaving them forward against their shoulder harnesses. The nose
fell rapidly out of control and Robby cut the fuel to the engine. Lights flashed all over the cockpit as systems lost power and shut down, leaving only battery power. When the nose fell, the big ADG hanging down underneath dug into the sea. The cockpit plowed through the water and the spray blinded their view. The plume over the tail kicked the rudder off center and the ADG became the new rudder, slewing the airplane around and causing it to slide sideways across the surface. It seemed to go on forever and Charlie held his breath, praying that the airplane wouldn’t start breaking up. The bright landing lights were gone and it was pitch-black outside the windshield. The electronic voices and the blaring horn were replaced with a roar that sounded like surf and the tsunami caused by the airplane displacing salty water.

  After what seemed like an eternity, they felt the cockpit lift and the airplane decelerated to a stop. The glow of a thousand instrument lights and computer LEDs were gone and the silence was eerie. The only illumination left was the dome light operated by the batteries of the emergency lighting system, and Charlie knew they would not provide power very long.

  “Robby, are you okay?”

  “I think so. How many Gs did we pull?”

  “I don’t know, but let’s get out of here.”

  They both reached down and pushed the button to move their seats back and realized at the same time there was no power to move it. Robby unstrapped and crawled over the pedestal. Charlie found the manual release for his seat, slid it back, and released his belts. They could hear shouts and screams emanating from the cabin, and Charlie thought he heard Britt yelling.

  Robby reached the rear of the cockpit first and immediately realized they had not accomplished one of the important items on the emergency checklist. The cockpit door should have been secured in the open position. He unlocked it and turned the handle. The door would not move. The crew coat closet had collapsed and jammed the door. He could see hats and jackets and crew bags under the rubble. He also saw several pieces of orange day glow material and knew he was looking at the remains of the emergency locator beacon. He jerked and pulled the door, but it would not budge.

  His voice pitched higher.

  “Charlie, we’re trapped! We have to go out the windows.”

  Two of the side cockpit windows were designed to open and be used for emergency escape.

  “Hang on, Robby.”

  Charlie fumbled behind the captain’s seat in the dim glow and found the crash ax. He passed it to Robby.

  “The new security door is bulletproof. Work on the hinges.”

  Charlie stepped back to give him room, and Robby began hacking at the door. They heard a loud whoosh of air when the emergency bottle assist opened the forward left entrance door. A split second later, another whoosh signaled the inflation of the slide raft. At least somebody was alive and functioning on the other side of the barrier. Fueled by adrenaline, Robby demolished the hinges and tugged the battered door into the cockpit.

  They immediately saw that the forward galley had broken loose and slammed into the outer wall of the cockpit, collapsing the coat closet inside. The ovens, drawers, and a pile of food trays were blocking the exit at the forward right door. Soft drink and beer cans had been punctured and could be heard spewing in the wreckage.

  Britt was in shock when the airplane finally stopped. She had been slammed back and forth by the deceleration forces and the belts of the shoulder harness had dug into her skin. The screams of the passengers after hitting the water were horrifying, and she had watched the galley break free, tilt forward, and collapse the wall. Nancy was somewhere in that pile of rubble.

  When she was sure the wild ride had ended, she moved her arms and legs. She found them reluctantly working. She popped the quick release on her harness and stood to look out the little round window in the door. When she did not see fire or smoke, she reached up and pulled the emergency release on the bulkhead next to the door. The pneumatic bottle whooshed and the huge door moved in and then up into the ceiling. When the door had moved about a foot, the big yellow slide pack began to fall out of its cover on the door. The bottle on the pack fired before the door finished its travel and the slide unfolded and inflated into the cool night air. A row of small white lights illuminated on either side of the big, yellow monster, and she could see that the downward angle was very shallow. Looking out, she could see water just two feet below the door’s threshold. The only lights in the airplane were the emergency lights operated by battery packs. She turned to the wall beside her seat and removed the flashlight so she could begin moving people out.

  As she shined the light on the floor to release the raft and prepare it for boarding, someone yelled, “Get out of the way! Get out of my way!”

  The man bounded over her and into the night. He hit the slide about ten feet out and bounced into the air, then disappeared. She could hear him screaming and thrashing around in the water.

  The man’s panic had galvanized others into action, and they were moving forward. She quickly found the lanyard to release the slide, and it fell to the water, still attached to the doorframe with a webbed line. She pulled the raft up close and tied the line to keep it in place just as the first passengers stepped into the exit area.

  She waved the flashlight and yelled, “Sit and then step into the raft. Do not jump.”

  She continued to yell the instructions, and soon had two people at once exiting into the raft if not orderly, at least without total panic. She heard a loud banging noise that didn’t make sense, and suddenly Robby and then Charlie appeared. She had never been so glad to see someone.

  Robby began throwing debris aside and clearing the way to the other door. At the bottom of the pile, he found Nancy still strapped into her seat. She was not moving. Charlie stepped in, and they gently removed her and felt for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there, and she was taking shallow breaths. One of her ankles was turned at an unnatural angle, and she had a lump on her forehead. Charlie stepped into the aisle and started yelling commands, and soon had the people stopped long enough to load Nancy into the raft, followed by Britt. He watched as Britt inflated one of the tubes on Nancy’s red vest and then one of her own. He released the line and pushed them into the darkness.

  Robby pulled the handle to open the other door and deploy the slide raft. When he had a boarding process going and the business class cabin was emptying, Charlie began making his way aft. The overhead emergency lights illuminated the cabin with a dim glow that created shadows between each row of seats. He followed the long line of white emergency track lights embedded in the floor and wished he had brought a flashlight. He carefully checked each row of seats, but he found no one at all as he hurried aft, wondering how long the airplane would float.

  At the rear of business class, the ceiling panels had collapsed, blocking the passage. He fought his way through the debris and found the area around the two left and right doors abandoned. The exit area around the right door was totally blocked with ceiling panels and air conditioning ducts. A water line in the galley had broken and flooded the floor. The left door was open and the raft was gone. He continued aft and saw a line of passengers pushing, shoving, and screaming to reach the overwing exits. He began yelling commands to calm down. When they saw a uniform and a red vest, they began to listen, and the chaos subsided somewhat. After he had their attention, he reassured them, and a more orderly evacuation ensued. He could hear a flight attendant giving orders at the door.

  Between two rows of seats, he found an elderly woman lying on the floor, sobbing. He carefully moved her to a sitting position and could see that her arm was badly broken. Suddenly the suffering, panic, and chaos became a personal burden. He felt a tightness in his chest and his breathing became labored. He was totally responsible for everything that had happened. He had failed to keep his passengers and crew safe. He began to think about where he had gone wrong. How could he have let this happen? The little old lady brought him back to reality.

  “Thank you, captain. No one would help me
, and I thought I would die in the floor between the seats.”

  Charlie became task-oriented once again and moved into action. The lady was not heavy, and he picked her up easily.

  “Step aside, I have an injured person. Make way for an injury.”

  Two middle-aged men who looked healthy enough stepped aside to let him through, and Charlie ordered them to stay in the back of the line and look in each row to make sure everyone got out. He made his way through the crowd and reached the three left door. Candace Whitten was herding people through the door and out onto the wing. Charlie shouted his way through the crowd and stepped out onto the wing with the lady in his arms. The escape slide at the overwing exits formed a rubber ramp that led out to the slide raft deployed outboard of the engine. Charlie could see huge pieces of jagged metal sticking up at the back of the wing and realized that the flaps had torn away. If one of the rafts encountered those shards, it would rip apart. He found Tony helping passengers off the leading edge of the wing and into the raft. The raft was already near its capacity of fifty people, and the two pilots handed the old lady down to a burly man in the raft as she thanked them over and over.

  Charlie ran back to the door and directed the dwindling line of people to the wing exit on the opposite side. He sent Candace out to board the raft and take charge while he and Tony helped Mary Dobson herd the remainder of the passengers onto the right wing. The two men he had assigned to check the seat rows brought up the rear and assured him the cabin was clear. He ordered both Mary and Tony into the raft and told Tony to move it away from the airplane and try to join the other rafts if possible. There were only two doors remaining to evacuate: four left and four right at the very back of the airplane.

  Charlie grabbed one of the emergency flashlights off the wall next to the door and began checking seat rows once again. He had not gone far when he found a man slumped forward in his aisle seat. The man’s head lay against the yellow life vest at an impossible angle. The overhead compartment above was open and a heavy bag lay on the floor in front of the man. It was obvious that it had fallen on his neck like a guillotine while he was in the brace position. He checked for a pulse, although he knew there would be none.