He continued on, shining the flashlight between seats in the growing dimness and finding nothing but debris. The emergency lights were fading as the batteries grew weaker, and he knew they would not last much longer. He could hear shouts and commands from further back, and he hurried to reach the exits. The airplane had begun to list to the left and, with horror, he remembered the mangled flap tracks at the rear of the left wing. He realized that when they ripped away it probably left holes and the wing tanks must be taking on water. Ironically, the empty tanks had put them in the water and now the tanks were filling to sink them.
Briefly, he thought about the fact that when he reached the rear doors, the rafts might be gone, leaving him alone with his sinking ship. It was almost a relief to hear people screaming as he entered the last cabin. The aisles were clogged and panicked passengers were not moving. He could hear Alice Elon and Shelia Graham shouting orders. He pushed his way through the crowd, reassuring people as he went, and trying to calm them.
When he reached the aft galley area, the doors were open and the rafts deployed, but the flight attendants were trying to physically drag handicapped passengers to the rafts one at a time. Both flight attendants were grandmothers and taking gasping breaths like a heart attack was imminent. The process was extremely time-consuming, and the airplane was listing more and more by the minute. Charlie quickly set priorities.
He loudly commanded, “Don’t block the aisle with those people, leave them in their seats for now.”
He moved the man they were dragging to the door and passed him to Molly Jackson, who was helping people into the raft. He ordered Molly back into the airplane and Alice into the raft. With Shelia at one door and Molly at the other, he began to herd the other passengers into the rafts. Now the handicapped were screaming, threatening discrimination lawsuits, and calling him unspeakable names. He ignored them, and within two minutes all the mobile people were in the rafts.
The right side of the airplane was now several feet higher, and it was becoming difficult to drop into the raft on that side. Charlie ordered Shelia out the door and released the line attaching the raft. As they drifted away, Charlie told her to try to rendezvous with the others, but he did not have time for a survival lecture. He and Molly began releasing seat belts, dragging or carrying helpless people to the last raft, and handing them out to Alice. He told Molly to evacuate the smallest passengers first, and she was able to move several of them by herself. Water was lapping over the threshold of the door now, and he knew time was short. He could feel the cold water seeping into his shoes and wondered if anyone could survive in the water without the raft.
The few people left trapped in their seats were now screaming in terror as they saw the water in the aisles and knew the airplane was sinking. One of the remaining passengers was a huge man, and Charlie made a decision. He had Molly help him and it took all their combined strength to move the man to the exit. When he rolled into the raft, Charlie ordered Molly out the exit also. He would not allow her to perish in a sinking airplane after all she had done. He rationalized that she would be needed to help the survivors stay alive.
There were only three people left to evacuate, and Charlie could hear them screaming ten rows forward of the door. He sloshed through the aisle and unbuckled the first one he came to. The man’s eyes were bulging, and he desperately grabbed Charlie’s arms in a death grip. Charlie instinctively pulled away to free his arms, losing his balance and falling backward. His foot caught under the seat, and a searing pain shot up his leg as all his weight forced the ankle to turn. His brain could not process the pain, and it began to shut down.
Dark shadows encroached at the edge of his vision, and he knew he was going to black out. He felt the airplane lurch and desperately wanted the screaming to stop. When he realized the screams were coming from his own throat, he closed his mouth. Before his vision narrowed to a pinpoint and went black, he heard a different faraway scream—a terrified female voice calling his name.
Chapter Thirteen
Ray was declared sober and released at three a.m., but it took him another hour to retrieve his truck from impound. He found the stolen cell phones still in the truck and tossed them into a dumpster in the parking lot of a strip mall. He was furious that the police had cost him a million dollars. If he could find a way to cause them misery, he would certainly do it. For now he had other things to think about.
By the time he got home, it was too late to go to bed. At least he wouldn’t be late to work. He reset the alarm clock before it went off and began his normal morning routine. He placed a bagel in the toaster and turned on the small television that he kept in the kitchen. The fuel dump system schematic was laying on the table, and he cursed as he ripped it into pieces. The local weatherman was spouting statistics that meant absolutely nothing to Ray. It was August, and it was hot. He could figure that out for himself. Then the screen filled with a breaking news icon, and the morning anchorwoman began the hype about the day’s top story.
“We have just learned that an international flight is missing over the Atlantic Ocean. Our source at the FAA is confirming that the flight last reported to Gander in Canada and was bound for Europe. The airplane is now overdue by several hours and has not been heard from. Our source tells us that search and rescue efforts are underway. US Air Force assets have been dispatched from Goose Bay in Newfoundland, and US Navy aircraft from Rota, Spain, are involved in the search. The air carrier and type of aircraft have not been released, but we have learned that there were one hundred and ninety-seven passengers and a crew of eleven onboard. Our unofficial source cannot confirm or deny that terrorism was involved. We will obviously stay on top of this story and bring you more information as we get it.”
Ray said to no one, “Well, at least part of the plan worked.”
His bagel popped up in the toaster, and he removed it to spread butter and jelly on it. He knew that the jelly would become a part of his beard, and he would have to wash it out, but he had his routine and would not change it. He did not think of himself as obsessive; he was just comfortable with the way he did things. He noticed that he was thirty seconds ahead of his morning schedule and consciously slowed his chewing to compensate. By the time he finished his coffee he was back on schedule and headed for the shower.
Colt Adams stepped out of the shower in Madrid and turned on the English language news channel. He hoped to get some idea of the weather before leaving the hotel for the airport and the flight back to Atlanta. He continued to dress while waiting for the weather report. The British newsman began talking while the screen displayed the picture of a generic airliner. Colt had experienced an uncharacteristic feeling of tension since waking, and now an unexplained chill ran down his spine. His feeling of dread increased, and he sat on the bed to watch.
“Continuing our coverage of the tragedy over the Atlantic last night, we have learned that the airliner involved was an American carrier with as many as three hundred passengers on board. The airplane mysteriously disappeared in mid-flight, and search and rescue teams are combing the waters west of the Azores for clues as to what happened. The authorities have not officially released the details; however, our correspondent in Madrid is reporting that Tri Continent Airlines Flight Eleven is overdue, and family members awaiting that flight are being escorted to a secluded area. Officials tell us that terrorism cannot be ruled out at this point. We will continue to bring you details as we get them.”
Colt sat staring at the television. This could not be happening. He had planned to be in the lobby when Charlie and his crew arrived at the hotel so he could give him a hard time about whatever he could think of. Charlie was one of his closest friends and one of the best pilots he had ever known. Charlie would not make a mistake.
Colt picked up the phone and dialed Tri Con operations in Madrid. The agent answered the phone in Spanish but quickly changed to English when Colt spoke.
“This is Captain Adams. I’m taking Flight Fourteen out in a couple of hours.
I want to know everything you have on Eleven. What happened?”
“Captain Adams, can you verify your employee number?”
Colt gave him the number to prove that he wasn’t a reporter.
“Thank you, captain, we know that Eleven was operating on schedule and last reported forty west. Santa Maria didn’t receive a scheduled position report at thirty west, and declared the flight overdue. After that, a Navy ship reported receiving a brief mayday and copied the position at around thirty-four west. The ship received one more broken transmission and then lost contact. I wish I could tell you more.”
“Thank you, I’ll see you shortly. I’m leaving the hotel now.”
Lieutenant Todd Gray arrived over the last reported position just before sunrise and set up a grid to systematically begin the search. Several air force and navy fighter jets had been on station for some time, but the weather prevented them from doing anything except orbit above the clouds and monitor the guard frequency for a signal from the emergency locator beacon. One air force jet had descended to one hundred feet and reported the visibility to be a half mile. The fighter jet’s slowest speed covered the half-mile in less than fifteen seconds so searching was impossible. Not to be outdone, a navy jet descended to fifty feet and reported the visibility as six-tenths of a mile. The machismo on the radio was palpable.
The fighters were basically useless in this situation, but Todd knew they would hang around as long as possible and log stick time. If they could organize a competition between the two services, so much the better. He just hoped they would play their games at high altitude and stay out of his way. He did not want to have to look for a fighter in addition to the airliner. He ordered the other airplanes to stay clear of the area and began a descent to one hundred feet above the water. This was a normal operating altitude for a sub hunter. His airplane was not glamorous, but this is what his crew was good at. The Orion could operate much slower than the jets, but still, searching from a hundred feet with limited visibility was next to impossible. More assets were on the way, but the air search would be extremely difficult given the current weather. Helicopters did not have the range to reach the search area and the closest surface vessel was still the Karuk. Their only hope for quick success would be a signal from the emergency locator beacon. The beacon emitted a homing signal on the guard frequency which could be received by any of the airplanes in the area, and also by satellite. No signal had been received.
Todd knew that the sea surface temperature in the area was estimated to be sixty-five degrees, and survival time in the water could be as little as two hours even for a healthy person. Hopefully, if there were survivors they were in a raft and not in the water. He and his crew scanned the ocean through the windshield and prayed that they would be successful.
Ray Slackman finished his shower, dried and fluffed his beard, then went back to the kitchen for a second cup of coffee. The weatherman was pointing to a map and prognosticating. He wasted several minutes stating the obvious. It was going to be hot today. The anchorwoman appeared once again with more breaking news.
“We have just received new information on our top story. This is devastating local news. The FAA has released new details on the missing airplane over the Atlantic, and we now know that the flight departed Atlanta last evening bound for Madrid, Spain. Tri Con Flight Eleven carried one hundred and ninety-seven passengers and a crew of eleven. We cannot confirm how many of the passengers are from the Atlanta area, but an unofficial source tells us that the flight crew is based locally. The crew consists of three pilots and eight flight attendants. The names will not be released until families are notified; however, the FAA will hold a press conference at noon today. So far, we know that the flight operated normally until something went horribly wrong over the ocean.
News networks in Europe are reporting that they have interviewed numerous passengers arriving at approximately the same time that Flight Eleven was scheduled, and several of them say that they witnessed the airplane going down with an engine on fire.
There has been no further word from search and rescue aircraft as to wreckage or survivors. We will obviously stay on top of this story and bring you details as we get them.”
Ray sat down with his coffee and tried to get everything straight in his mind. He didn’t get rich, but at least there was nothing to implicate that he had done anything wrong. The airplane was at the bottom of the ocean, and no one would ever know why. He felt sorry for the people on board, but they just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Man, if I had been released earlier last night and called to warn Tri Con, that would have been a colossal mistake. They would have the airplane to inspect and find my handiwork. I must have been stupid drunk.
He considered calling in sick and going to bed for a good sleep but decided it might call attention to him. He carefully thought through the situation again and found no reason to be concerned. He was out the door right on schedule and ready to fight the day’s battles.
Phil James learned of the accident on the radio during his drive to work. He arrived at the training center and hurried to his office, where he was met by his supervisor.
“Have you heard the news, Phil?”
“I’m afraid so. What do we know so far?”
“I have a list of the crew members. You had Charlie Wells in class last week.”
“Charlie was the captain?”
“Yeah, he was. I’m sure the FAA is going to want to talk to you about his training. Was anything unusual about the class?”
“No, not at all. Charlie is always prepared. He did very well, as usual.”
They were interrupted by the telephone, and the supervisor spoke briefly with the caller, repeating “Yes, sir,” several times.
“Phil, that was the vice president of technical operations. They’re putting together the accident response team, and he wants you to be a part of it. They’re meeting in the flight control conference room across the street. Keep me informed, and let me know what you need.”
Phil gathered his briefcase and aircraft manuals and made his way across the street. He was met by a secretary who gave him a nametag and explained that the general briefing was about to begin. Afterward, the group would split into smaller teams to use their particular expertise in gathering information and discerning facts. The general briefing had been moved to a larger room down the hall, and when Phil entered, there were probably fifty people milling about and looking for seats.
The vice president of flight operations opened the briefing.
“Let’s get started, people. We’ve got a lot to cover, and I don’t want to waste time. Here’s what we know from a flight ops perspective: Flight Eleven departed on time and operated normally through Gander Oceanic airspace. Gander handed them off to Santa Maria at the normal transition point, but they never reported in. Shortly after they became overdue with Santa Maria, a mayday was received by a US Navy ship in the area. Eleven reported a fuel emergency and gave their position. I’m not going to stand up here and read numbers to you; it’s all on the briefing sheet that is being passed out. Search and rescue is under way; however, there is a low overcast in the area with very little visibility, and we are not hopeful of quick results. Our initial hypothesis is that they experienced fuel contamination or fuel exhaustion and were forced to ditch the airplane. That’s strictly speculation; you are here to prove or disprove, and either way, we want to know why. Are there any questions before I turn it over to Tech Ops?”
Someone asked, “I heard on the news that eyewitness accounts say there was an engine fire. Is that true?”
The VP sighed.
“Every witness in the history of aviation has always said that they saw the airplane on fire as it went down. Number one, if our airplane ran out of fuel, there would be nothing to feed an engine fire. Number two, the spacing required between aircraft on the North Atlantic tracks would make it very unlikely that a passenger on another aircraft could be a witness to anything. When people see a n
ews camera, they become instant experts and say what they’ve heard other people say all their lives. That is, the airplane was on fire when it went down.”
Next the vice president of technical operations spoke.
“Ship 826 was up-to-date on all inspections and airworthiness directives. The engines were low time and had no write-ups recently. The airplane underwent a routine service check yesterday, and no problems were found. The inbound flight had no squawks, and the logbook was clean. Line maintenance reported that the outbound crew gave a verbal request to check an access compartment door in the belly, the door was cycled closed, and no logbook entry was made or required. Our group will obviously be focusing on the fuel system. Any questions?”
Someone asked, “Did the flight leave with the proper fuel load?”
“I’ll let the dispatcher answer that.”
The dispatcher gave a rundown on the fuel boarded and the fact that Charlie had called to discuss the fuel load before departure. They had both agreed that it was adequate and left it as planned.
Next the meteorologist gave his report and stated that there were no storms or turbulence reported or forecasted for the route of flight. He added the current weather in the search area was forecast to persist with low clouds and restricted visibility due to a warm front that was practically stationary.
The FAA representative concluded the briefing.
Equal Time Point Page 12