The Wreck Emerged

by Joseph Webers

  “Maggie, relax! Trust me! I’ve got you!”

  “How? I can’t relax! I have to find Jenny!” She screamed again. Her wild movements were doing nothing to keep her above water, but Matt, from behind, was at least keeping her head in the air.

  “I’m going to keep you from sinking! Trust me! I’m helping you!” He was shouting at her. “Trust me!”

  Her ears heard the words but her mind was slow to respond. She knew it was Matt’s voice and she was already beginning to get comfortable with him on the plane. But this? Then she forced herself to remember the fleeting calm and peace from about fifteen seconds earlier. She took a deep breath and relaxed.

  The sudden stillness took Matt by surprise. Her face went under even though he still had the back of her vest, and he went under with her. He kicked twice and they were able to breathe again. He checked her to see if she had passed out.

  “I can’t swim,” she screamed, “and I can’t see Jenny! I lost her!” She broke into loud sobbing.

  Matt was concerned she might go into shock. He was also concerned that he himself might go into shock. But he had more bulk about him, keeping him somewhat warmer and somewhat more able to float. “Maggie, listen to me!”

  She nodded, and he realized she would be able to cooperate and wouldn’t pull him under again. He relaxed his grip and grabbed her arm, allowing her to turn and face him. He was kicking hard, treading water for them both.

  “There’s something over there we can hold onto.” He nodded toward it. “I’m going to swim us to it. I’m going to try to keep your head above water the whole time, but you need to take good breaths when your mouth is out of the water in case you go under a little.”

  She nodded again. His Boy Scout days were about fifty years behind him, but he thought he remembered the salient points from his Lifesaving Merit Badge. “I’m going to turn you around and crook my arm around your neck. Then with your back on my hip, you’ll be face-up and level. Put both hands on my arm, and pull on it if I start to choke you. That will give your neck more room.”

  Maggie could tell he was starting to get tired. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  The object was about twenty-five yards away. His arms and legs burned well before they got there, and his chest was heaving terribly when they finally reached it.

  Maggie felt him quit moving, and when she didn’t sink, she pulled herself from beneath his arm and grabbed what Matt had found to hang onto. It was a coffin handle.

  28

  Panting heavily, the two survivors were holding onto the only other thing left floating from the drowned aircraft. It was a coffin, but as they relaxed and became vertical in the water, they bumped into an object underneath the coffin. They discovered the coffin was strapped onto this object, which turned out to be a shipping pallet slightly larger than the coffin. On a hunch, Matt pulled himself to the end of the coffin and around it, and saw two more coffins attached to the same pallet. “Maggie,” he yelled, “we might be able to climb up on this!”

  Maggie joined him. “Boost me up, I’ll be able to see better. Quick!”

  This was easier said than done. Although they had been in the water just a short time, they had gotten used to the buoyancy the salt water provided and she felt like a ton as she used the pallet as a step to climb onto the coffin. She finally made it up and stood on top looking all around. “There’s another one up here,” she called down. The coffins swayed as she shifted her weight. Her hysteria was starting to subside.

  “I’m coming up. Do you see any sign of Jenny?”

  He was anxious for her, but he already knew what the answer would be. Just then, a wave passed through their little floating island, and the sudden lifting of the end where Maggie was standing pitched her back into the ocean. She grabbed a lungful of air before she hit the water, then closed her eyes and waited for Matt to find her and bring her back on board.

  Matt pushed off after her and soon they were climbing onto the nearest coffin. On her way up, Maggie had thrown up most of the seawater she had swallowed. She was weeping, and Matt surmised her scan of the water around them was unfruitful.

  Directly overhead, the sun bore down on them in full strength. There was not a cloud in the sky. That’s why it was a puzzle when they heard thunder. They didn’t pay too much attention to it, since at that moment, a haze began to form over the water. With it, a supernatural calmness came over the pair. Matt recognized it; he had experienced it before. All Maggie noticed was that the shock, both physical and emotional, was replaced by peace in her body and clarity in her mind.

  In any disaster, the first thing to do after you catch your breath is a damage assessment. Matt put himself in charge of that. “Maggie, are you hurt at all, anywhere? Are you bleeding?” He saw her hair all over the place. “Turn around and let me see the back of your head!”

  He turned his head to show her the back of it. “I’m okay as far as I know, but take a look here.”

  “I’m okay too,” she said. “Your head looks fine. I’m kind of sore from all the water gymnastics, and I must have banged my shin sometime since the last time I was dry.” She rolled up her pant leg to find a lump on the inside of her left shin. “But it’s not bleeding. The skin’s not even broken.”

  That was a good sign, Matt thought, complete sentences, and a little bit of humor. “Okay, let’s do an inventory. I see we both have our sneakers, you still have your petunia vest, and I have my watch.”

  He looked at his watch. The crystal had broken, and judging by the black spot on what was left of it, the seawater had caused a short and the battery had burned out the works inside. “Check your pockets.”

  “I have our passports held together with two broccoli rubber bands and a penny. Clara gave me the penny at the airport, and said, ‘Keep this and you’ll never go broke!’ I always keep our passports in my back pocket; everything else is replaceable. ‘Everything else’ is what I left up front when I came to visit you.”

  “And I have my passport in my pocket for the same reason as you. Let’s see what else we have.”

  “I don’t understand about the penny. Is this like a good luck thing in the States, to give someone a penny when they go on a trip?”

  Matt grinned, in spite of their situation. “No. How can you be broke if you still have a penny?”

  They turned their attention to their lifeboat. As Maggie had noticed, there was a fourth coffin sitting loose at an odd angle on top of the three, which were strapped to the pallet with thick plastic strapping belts. They straightened it, and tipped it over slightly between two of the bottom coffins. Matt noticed all the coffins were held closed with wing nuts rather than the coffin bolts they use at funerals to lock the coffins. He opened the front end of the coffin on top, where the head would be, and was relieved that there was no head there, just a pillow. He closed the cover.

  The shipping label said the pallet would have gone on to Charles De Gaulle International Airport after the transfer at Heathrow. “These are all made of myrtle wood,” he told her. “I guess they don’t see much myrtle wood in Paris.”

  “How do you know? Are you a wood expert?”

  He grinned at her again. “No, there’s a sign on the end here!” He read it. “ ‘100% myrtle wood. Myrtle trees are found in only two places on earth: Oregon and Israel. This wood possesses a variety of different colors and is sought for its great beauty. Hardwood Casket Co, Redmond Oregon.’ And there’s a shipping address in Paris.”

  “It doesn’t look very beautiful now. Look at the burn marks all over them. Little charred spots, like cigarette burns you’d find on the tables in a cheap pub. On the sides, though, the finish they covered them with looks like it will keep all the water out.”

  “Hmm. I would have thought the explosions I heard would result in splintered wood. I wonder if they were shooting a special kind of ammunition. But,” he added, “it sure did a number on the nose and tail.”

  “I heard them too, and it seemed like little sparks were shooti
ng through the floor whenever there was an explosion.” She checked her clothes. “I was lying on the floor part of the time, but it doesn’t look like those got me!”

  “It didn’t seem like they were trying to get us passengers, but they sure shot up the cargo section. Maybe they just assumed everyone would be killed.”

  “Matt, that was the tail of the plane I wanted to climb on. I’m glad I didn’t, but I wonder why they went to such trouble to shoot it off.”

  Matt thought a moment. “I’ll bet they didn’t want the plane to ever be found, and they were trying to destroy the black box.”

  “What is that?”

  “It’s the voice and data recorder that investigators can use to tell why a plane crashed, or had an emergency. It also sends out a signal so searchers can find it when they get close enough. They probably weren’t trying to cause the tail to come off the plane—that was God’s work. If the tail were still on the plane, then we’d still be on the plane too!”

  The thunder got a little louder. They looked around, but couldn’t find its source. All they saw, was that the fire on the surface, which seemed to be fed by fuel leaking from the sinking plane, was moving away from them. Maggie stood up again to look for Jenny, holding Matt’s outstretched arm for support. Nothing. The sea was fairly calm, and there was a slight breeze. Matt pulled Maggie down to him, and hugged her tightly. “I think Jenny must have gone down in the plane. I’m so sorry!”

  She turned around, buried her face in his chest, and sobbed. “I’ll never see her again!”

  29

  Presently, Captain Palova’s monitor showed him making a communications check with one of the Air Force planes, whose call sign was Hotel Romeo Seven Three. JC couldn’t tell if Captain Palova’s call sign, Papa Mike Zero Six, was his real call sign or one made up for the occasion. Evidently, Hotel Romeo 7-3 had been briefed about whom he would be talking to.

  After a few minutes, the Air Force called. “Papa Mike 0-6, this is Hotel Romeo 7-3. We are approaching the way point. There is black smoke in the distance.”

  JC interjected, “Black smoke may indicate burning jet fuel.”

  “This is Hotel Romeo 7-3. There are two aircraft in the area of the smoke. We should be on-scene in twenty seconds.”

  “Hotel Romeo 7-3, this is Papa Mike 0-6. Roger.”

  30

  Matt and Maggie were startled by a loud screaming noise accompanying the thunder, which was now deafening. Through the haze they could see what appeared to be two military fighter jets coming directly at them! They passed overhead, and began firing at the blaze in the water and all over the place in that general area. They heard a loud explosion and a plume of black smoke rose from a spot a bit farther away from them than the surface fire. They circled around and came back, firing again, and there was another explosion. And a third.

  Suddenly a different screaming. Two more aircraft appeared and gave chase. Matt recognized them. “That’s our Air Force!” he exclaimed, pointing. All four aircraft quickly disappeared out of sight, and it was eerily quiet.

  31

  “This is Hotel Romeo 7-3. Aircraft appear to be MiGs. Perhaps twenty-threes. They have departed, approximate heading one-eight-zero. We are pursuing with intention to engage upon authorization.”

  Another voice broke in. “Raptor Base. Negative, do not engage. I say again, do not engage. Pursue at a distance to ascertain exact direction. Do not overtake. What is your fuel level?”

  “Roger, base. Approximately one hour forty-five minutes. Scheduled refuel in one hour. Papa Mike 0-6, location of fire is 35.177, negative 52.204.”

  Raptor Base came back on about five minutes later. “Hotel Romeo 7-3, this is base. Discontinue pursuit, return to fire location for assessment, report info to Papa Mike 0-6, then proceed to refuel. Provide video if available.”

  “Roger. Video not available. Hotel Romeo 7-3 clear.”

  Five minutes later. “Papa Mike 0-6, this is Hotel Romeo 7-3. Direction at break pursuit was due south, one-eight-zero. We are at fire location. Fire still burning, very little smoke. There is a slight ground haze not affecting visibility, and we and Hotel Papa Five Seven observe no debris using standard search protocol. Sorry we weren’t there sooner. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

  “This is Papa Mike 0-6. Negative and thank you.” They ended communications.

  32

  Maggie and Matt were both motionless on the little craft, stunned.

  “Matt, they didn’t shoot at us! How could they have not seen us? We were sitting ducks!”

  “They didn’t see us. Perhaps it was the haze and they couldn’t see through it. I don’t think they were shooting at the fire. I think they were shooting at something else.”

  “But what? There’s nothing else out here.”

  “I don’t know,” he said slowly. Then he continued in a different vein. “Maggie, think back to when you were blown out of the plane through the tail. Did you lose consciousness? Tell me what you remember.”

  “Well, the plane bounced and I was thrown onto the ceiling. I think I still had Jenny at that point. Then the plane pitched over and I was in mid-air. I may have lost her then, because I was wildly trying to grab onto something. Then the water hit me and I was just squirted out into empty space, like water coming from a garden hose. No, I never lost consciousness. I came down in the water and my first thoughts were for Jenny. How about you?”

  “I remember all the explosions underneath us. I had gone forward to find an oxygen mask and saw daylight where the front of the plane should be.” He wondered if he should tell her what he saw. No, maybe later. “I was thrown down at the bulkhead between coach and first class. The plane lurched this way and that, and I found myself in mid-air just like you. It was surreal. I should have been knocked out or at least overcome by the events to a point of witlessness, but I was completely at peace.

  “It was like slow-motion. Then the plane bounced, and I could see everyone’s head snap forward. Except yours and mine, because we weren’t belted in. Then the water grabbed me and spewed me out right behind you. I’m surprised I didn’t land on you. As I was going out, from the darkness into the brightness, my eyes caught sight of something very bright, even brighter than the daylight.”

  “Was it a reflection of the sun off something?”

  “No. It was words. Bright, golden words made of letters that seemed to be on fire. They seemed to be attached to a long, dark purple banner. It was spectacular!”

  “Could you tell what the words were? What did they mean?”

  “Yes, I could read them. And I know what they mean in general. But I don’t know what they mean in particular. In fact, I’ve seen them ever since I first saw them. I can still see them. But now they are darkish blue letters on a pale yellow background.”

  What Matt was now seeing was like a negative, like when you look out a window into the daylight; the window frame looks dark and the window bright. When you close your eyes, the scene is still there, but the frame is white and the window is just a black square.

  “Tell me! Please?” She felt like one of her year fives. She caught something out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, no!” she wailed, “It’s a real shark this time!”

  33

  Phil had resumed control of his meeting, addressing the members of the VTC. “First of all, a word to our military. Thank you for your support in this. Captain Palova, do not think of this as a failure. It seems they, whoever ‘they’ are, were determined to kill AW94. If the pilots knew the real location of the carrier, the flight would have been killed at thirty thousand feet instead of at the surface, since it would have taken what, over two hours to reach their actual location?

  “If you think about it, there is a benefit to the crash taking place near the surface, and that is we know exactly where to look for it, and the black box will have a greater chance for survival, and may even still be connected to the plane.

  “Secondly, I noticed there are new faces at this meet
ing. Let me give you a quick synopsis of what else we know, especially for Bob’s sake, so he can brief us on what the CIA knows. A week and a half or so ago, we became aware of a group operating in this country. We have no firm idea of the group’s identity, personnel, agenda, or resources. That’s why we’re calling it a shadow regime. We’ve been operating mostly on rumors and speculation, although these have come from fairly reliable sources.

  “A week ago, Barry Mantile from Treasury let our office know of strange money transfers into and immediately out of a bank account in California, an account Barry’s folks had been monitoring. As soon as the transfer-out occurred, the account disappeared completely. This all was accomplished out of Macapá, Brazil, using the same IP address JC said was hacking the Air World flight data. The same sources are hinting at some new form of chemical agent already somewhere on the West Coast.

  “Bob, does this give you enough to go on? We are taking this very seriously. This is the first VTC where we think we have most of the right players involved. Captain Palova’s participation was just a guess to keep him in the loop, just in case. Louis, now I’m glad you’re with us.”

  “Phil, Bob here. I’ll see what I can find out. Give me a couple hours.”

  “Thanks. Lastly, we need to pause and regroup. The world will know about AW94 shortly. We know more than anyone else, and our organizations will be flooded with questions and rumors. Let’s quash what rumors we can, without divulging what we know. Let’s meet again at 4 p.m. Eastern, if everyone can make it. I know it’s a Friday, but we might have to meet through the weekend based on what we hear from Bob.”