The Lazarus Moment

by J. Robert Kennedy

“It’s like something wiped it. It’s just a damned blinking cursor!”

  Lacroix activated the emergency frequency. “This is Air Force One, we are declaring an emergency. We have lost—”

  “It’s no use, Mitch, it’s dead.”

  “Shit!” Lacroix turned to the flight engineer, Chief Master Sergeant Michael Hawkins. “Get down there and find out what the hell is going on!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Hawkins unbuckled and quickly disappeared, the sounds of screams from the cabin heard as the cockpit door opened.

  “Leave that open, I want to be able to hear what’s going on behind me!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Lacroix turned to Pliner. “We’re going to have to dead stick this thing. Find me a place to land.”

  “Nav computer is down.”

  “Then get out the charts!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Someone burst into the cockpit. “Captain, what’s going on?”

  Lacroix stole a glance over his shoulder to see the President’s body man standing there, terror written all over his pale, sweating face.

  “We’ve lost all power and communications. Make sure everyone and everything are strapped in and down. We’re going to try to find a place to land but it could be rough.”

  “You can land it without engines?”

  “This isn’t a car, we’re not going to drop from the sky. As long as I can maintain lift, we should be able to glide her in. The problem is we’re over the damned jungle. Finding a spot to land could be tough.”

  “You mean we could die?”

  Lacroix’s head spun toward the man.

  “Nobody’s dying today, not under my watch! Now tell everyone to remain calm and prepare for an emergency landing!”

  “O-okay.”

  The man disappeared and Pliner gave Lacroix a look. “Did you really just say that?”

  Lacroix shrugged. “Seemed like a movie moment.”

  “So we’re dead?”

  “You tell me. Anything on the charts?”

  Pliner shook his head.

  “Then we’re dead.”

  Main Deck, Air Force One

  Over Mozambique

  25,000 feet and dropping

  Thulas Zokwana sat calmly, his eyes closed as he prayed for forgiveness for what he had done. He had no regrets except that his family would be left alone. If Khomenko was true to his word, however, they would never want for anything. If that meant being condemned to eternal damnation for his small part, then so be it.

  He could live with that.

  Clearly the others weren’t at peace with their impending doom. Screams, sobs and whimpers surrounded him, though not as many as he thought. Orders were being barked, gear being stowed, passengers strapped in, safety procedures being announced. Even the President had made a brief appearance appealing for calm then leading everyone in prayer.

  It had been moving, even for him.

  He stared out the window and could see the jungle below growing closer and closer. The virus had apparently been coded to activate at this very part of their trip. With no power, the plane could easily glide a hundred miles, though with nowhere to land, it wouldn’t matter.

  They were crash landing no matter what happened, and hard, tree covered ground would be unforgiving.

  The job would be done.

  And his family would receive their payday.

  “There he is!”

  Zokwana opened his eyes and smiled as several Secret Service agents raced down the aisle toward him.

  I guess he talked.

  It was actually a bit of a surprise. Why Lennox would talk made no sense, it pointless to confess to what he had done at this point. There was nothing that could be done, and there had only been minutes.

  Could they have found out before?

  He couldn’t see how, though anything was possible. He shrugged and stood. It didn’t matter now. Even if they were to torture him for information, they had no way to transmit it, and his pain would only last for several more minutes.

  “Come with us, now!” said the first man, his weapon aimed squarely at Zokwana’s chest.

  Zokwana’s smile broadened. “There’s nothing you can do to save yourselves now.”

  The man grabbed him, fastening Zokwana’s hands with cuffs. “Then you’ll die with the rest of us.”

  Zokwana snorted.

  “I’m already dead.”

  Lower Deck Server Compartment, Air Force One

  Over Mozambique

  23,000 feet and dropping

  Cornel hammered at the laptop’s keyboard. He had jacked into the server to try and access the solid state drives holding the system’s operating system and data files, though as of yet had found nothing beyond the core operating system.

  Everything else has been completely wiped!

  As was the memory stick Lennox had used to sabotage everything.

  He cursed his former friend but shoved the anger aside as he realized it was just a waste of time. There was only one thing he could do to try and get things back up and running. Reinstall the software.

  Which would take hours and they only had minutes.

  He rushed past the other techs and up the stairs, bursting into the room where Lennox was still sitting, being interrogated. “He wiped most of the system.”

  “What do you mean?” asked the Secret Service Agent in Charge.

  Cornel didn’t have time to explain, instead searching for something the man might understand. “Imagine someone reset your iPhone. The operating system is still there, but none of the apps are. We use apps to control everything from comms to nav computers to engines. Those apps aren’t there.”

  “Can you reinstall them?”

  “Yeah, but it will take hours.” He turned to Lennox. “Why the hell did you do it?” Lennox looked crestfallen, shaking his head slowly as if he truly regretted what he had done, yet Cornel had zero sympathy for the man. He turned to Agent in Charge McNeely. “There’s no way I can fix it, there’s not enough time.”

  “Then we’re dead.”

  Cornel felt bile fill his mouth as a knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He was right. They were dead. They were all dead, he having heard the update from the pilot that there was nowhere to land. He glared at Lennox.

  All because of that bastard.

  “We don’t need to reinstall everything.”

  The look of revelation on Lennox’s face angered Cornel even more, the man far too happy for the situation. He felt his hands clench.

  Then he realized what Lennox meant.

  “Holy shit! I never thought of that!”

  Lennox rose from his chair. “Let me help you, please!”

  “What? What’s going on?” asked McNeely.

  Cornel turned from Lennox, he now sharing in the excitement, to McNeely. “We don’t need to reinstall everything. Just the things that matter. It’ll take time but we might be able to get enough key systems going that we can get the engines back on.”

  Hope washed over the faces in the room. “Then don’t just stand there, do it!”

  He pointed at Lennox. “I need him, it’ll go twice as fast.”

  “No ’effin’ way, he stays here.”

  “Please, let me help. I swear I never would have done it if I had known. I thought they just wanted to tap the comms.”

  McNeely chewed his cheek for a moment then nodded. “Go.” He turned to one of the security team. “I want a gun on him at all times. If he does anything to interfere, shoot him. Dead.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, Kenya

  “Sorry, sir, repeat that?”

  Master Sergeant Mike “Red” Belme raised a hand, quieting everyone in the room. He was sure he had heard Colonel Clancy incorrectly, though in his heart he knew he didn’t. “Did you say Air Force One is going down?”

  Everyone turned toward him.

  “Yes. The fighter escort reports they’ve lost all comms
with the aircraft and it’s losing altitude. They’ve got a visual on the pilot and he’s signaled there’s no power.”

  Red swirled his hand over his head and his team immediately began to pack their gear, he covering the mouthpiece. “Get the flight crew!” He removed his hand. “Is there a safe place to land?”

  “Negative. It’s all jungle. If they can’t get their engines back, they will crash.”

  “Jesus Christ! Where are they?”

  “Over Mozambique.”

  “Our briefing indicated that there’s rebel activity in that country. That could be a problem.”

  “Agreed, but Sergeant, this won’t be a rescue operation, this will be a recovery.”

  Red felt his chest tighten as a wave of dismay raced through his body, the thoughts of his friends dying almost overwhelming.

  “I understand. What do you need from us?”

  “Get your team together, just in case.”

  “We’re ready now, Colonel.”

  “Then get your asses in the air.”

  Cockpit, Air Force One

  Over Mozambique

  10,000 feet and dropping

  “Something just happened!”

  Colonel Mitch Lacroix stole a glance at the controls, the source of the excitement from his co-pilot. Controls were lit up, panels that were once dead beginning to show information. “Restart the engines!”

  “I’m already on it, but there’s nothing. All I’ve got is engine status, but no control.”

  “Shit!”

  “I’ve got our altitude. We’re at ten thousand feet and dropping fast. We’ve got less than ten minutes.”

  Lacroix cursed, looking at the now functioning fuel gauge. “Have you found a landing spot?”

  “Negative, nothing. It’s all goddamned jungle for as far as the eye can damned well see, no airports, no roads, no nothing.”

  “So we’re screwed,” muttered Lacroix. He glanced at the gauge again. “If we hit we’re going to go up like Hiroshima. Dump the fuel.”

  Pliner hesitated a moment. “Once we do that, there’s no going back, even if we get the engines back. We had sixty-two tons, we’ve burned fifteen of that. In less than ten minutes we’ll be dry.”

  “Exactly. If we hit with all that fuel we’re a fireball. We need to start dumping now if we have any hope.”

  Pliner exhaled loudly, a frown creasing his face. He nodded. “You’re right.” He leaned forward, looking out the windows. “Where’s our escort?”

  Lacroix leaned forward, looking to the port side. “I’ve got one here, he’s clear.”

  “Mine too. Dumping fuel.”

  Lacroix made the sign of the cross.

  “May God have mercy on our souls.”

  Main Deck, Air Force One

  Over Mozambique

  6,000 feet and dropping

  Senior Airman Jane Harrison straddled the aisle, her feet firmly in place, one hand gripping a seatback as she surveyed the clearly terrified passengers, mostly press and presidential staff. She didn’t blame them. She was terrified too, though she had been trained to deal with these situations, and no matter what was going to happen, there was no way she was going to her death failing in her duty.

  “Can I have your attention, please!” Several heads turned, others kept talking in a panic. There was no working intercom, so everything had to be done without the benefit of technology, repeated several times. She repeated her plea.

  “Everyone shut up and listen to the lady!”

  Jane smiled at the man, the crowd silenced. “Thank you! I need everyone to secure all your belongings otherwise they could become projectiles and injure someone. Once your belongings are secured, strap yourself into your seat. Just as we’re about to land, I’ll signal for you to assume your crash positions. Bend over at the waist and put your head between your knees, placing your hands over your head or hooking them under your knees.” Several people assumed the position immediately.

  Good. It will keep them from causing trouble.

  “When the plane comes to a complete halt, emergency lighting will guide you toward your nearest exit. Note where they are now.” She pointed to each exit, heads swiveling, those in the crash position rising slightly to take note. “A member of your flight crew will open the emergency doors, but in the event they aren’t open, follow the instructions on the doors to open them yourselves. The emergency slides will deploy automatically. Slide down, one at a time, then get as far away from the plane as you can to avoid being injured should there be an explosion.”

  Somebody yelped.

  Get a grip, there’s going to be explosions.

  “If you are injured, identify yourself so someone can assist you. Follow these instructions and you will survive.” She paused, all attention now firmly focused on her. “You have two minutes to secure your belongings, then I want everyone strapped in.”

  A flurry of activity erupted as she turned, heading for her own chair. She sat down, looking over at Airman Jennifer Ross. Jennifer smiled weakly at her. “Do you really think we’re going to make it?”

  Jane frowned, shaking her head.

  “Not a chance.”

  Lower Deck Server Compartment, Air Force One

  Over Mozambique

  4,000 feet and dropping

  Lennox’s fingers flew over the keyboard, he working several terminals at once, as was Cornel. They were making progress, of that there was no doubt, though there were so many systems that had to be installed in order to get the engines to function there just wasn’t enough time.

  We’re not going to make it.

  His fingers paused for a moment as he pictured his wife and daughter in the hands of the monsters that were about to succeed in murdering almost one hundred souls.

  Tears filled his eyes.

  I’m so sorry!

  He glanced over his shoulder at the South African, the security team holding him at the entrance, McNeely shouting at him, demanding he tell them how to fix the aircraft.

  It was a waste of time.

  Even if the man knew, which he was sure he didn’t, there just wasn’t enough time left to do anything about it.

  “Hey, get back to work!”

  He glanced over at Cornel, wiping his eyes clear. “There’s not enough time.”

  “Keep working!”

  “We’re going to die!”

  “Keep working! We’re almost there!”

  There was a shout at the far end and Lennox’s head whipped toward the sound. His jaw dropped as he saw the South African charging toward him, his eyes filled with desperation and fear, as if their succeeding meant more than him just failing.

  Two shots rang out, the man stumbling then dropping, his head hitting the metal grate of the deck, his eyes staring at Lennox.

  Why did you do it?

  He knew why he had, but why had this man? Were his motivations as strong as his? As pure as his? Was the man doing it for politics? Religion? Family?

  Cornel grabbed Lennox by the shoulder, whipping him around to face him. “Now they’ll never know you helped. Now get back to work!”

  Lennox nodded, the realization that Cornel was right spurring him forward, his fingers flying faster than before. The machine to his left beeped and he slid his chair along the rail to the keyboard, his heart leaping in excitement. “It’s ready! You?”

  Cornel slid down a terminal and nodded. “On three! Three… two… one… now!”

  Lennox hit the button to activate the just installed software.

  Restoring hope.

  The distinctive whine of engines powering up resulted in cheers from the others. McNeely rushed forward. “What just happened?”

  “Engines one and four are back online!” replied Cornel.

  “What about the other two?”

  “We don’t need them, two’s enough!” Cornel continued to work as did Lennox until he glanced at the display beside him.

  “Oh shit!”

  Cornel slid up beside him as L
ennox pointed at the display. “What?”

  “They dumped the fuel!”

  Cockpit, Air Force One

  Over Mozambique

  1,000 feet and dropping

  “Jesus! Stop the fuel dump!”

  Lt. Colonel Pliner leapt for the control, flicking the switch, cutting off the dump. Colonel Lacroix glanced at the fuel gauge then back at the engine readings, one and four alive and kicking for the first time in over 25 minutes. He looked at the trees below as he began to apply more power and pull them up.

  “It’s no use.”

  He glanced at Pliner, the man’s voice subdued. “What do you mean?”

  Pliner pointed at the fuel reading. “Less than a thousand pounds.”

  Shit!

  “If I hadn’t ordered the damned dump, we’d be surviving this thing.”

  Pliner shook his head. “You did the right thing. There was no reason to believe the engines would ever come back, not with what the guys told us.”

  “Are we gonna be okay?” asked Senior Airman Jane Harrison, her voice excited as she threw open the door, cheers echoing behind her.

  Lacroix shook his head, killing her smile. “No. We’re out of fuel.”

  Tears filled Jane’s eyes for a brief moment as she gripped the back of Pliner’s chair. She inhaled, nodding firmly. “I’ll let everyone know.”

  “Thanks, Jane.” Lacroix reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

  She smiled unconvincingly, then pulled away, closing the door behind her, the jubilation of the passengers cut off, their ignorant bliss about to be as well.

  “Okay, let’s find a place to land,” he said, banking her slightly to port. His expert eyes surveyed the terrain below, the thick trees offering not even a glimpse of the jungle floor. He was about to bank to starboard when he spotted something.

  A smile spread across his face.

  He pointed. “There!”

  “Where?”

  “There!”

  Pliner rose from his seat and stared. “Are you nuts?”

  “It’s been done.”

  Pliner grinned as he opened the cockpit door to warn everyone.