by Gary Birken
Morgan knew the only thing saving her was to keep her right wingtip pointing toward the ocean and Will pinned in the doorframe. Her eyes flashed over at him long enough to see his face wild with rage. The thunderous blasts of air continued to fill the cabin. Morgan could see him struggling to pull himself back into the cabin. When those attempts failed, he managed to roll on his back. From that position, he began kicking madly at Morgan’s right shoulder and chest. Dodging from side to side in her seat, she tried desperately to avoid his frantic blows.
Finally, she felt Will’s grip on her arm weaken. Perhaps it was from exhaustion, but the reason made little difference to her. She amassed whatever strength was left to her and ripped her arm away. Once free from his grasp, she reached down to the left of her seat and pulled up a small fire extinguisher.
Will was clinging with both hands to fight the force of gravity wrenching him out of the plane. Without a shred of hesitation, Morgan wheeled the extinguisher across her lap and then slammed it into the back of his right hand. His guttural scream echoed above the howling wind. His bloodied fingers flattened out, quivered for a few seconds, and then slipped from the chair. With his grip now weakened, his right shoulder slipped outside the cabin.
For the first time she saw frenzy and desperation in his eyes. The only thing keeping him in the airplane was his opposite hand clutching the metal frame of his seat. His eyes locked on her, he made no pleas to save himself. Wrapping her fingers more firmly around the fire extinguisher, she elevated it over her shoulder. It would have been an easy enough matter to strike Will’s other hand, but she couldn’t.
Paralyzed with indecision, Morgan remained locked in a silent, icy stare with him. After a few more seconds passed, she realized he was successfully using his injured hand to pull himself back into his seat. She watched his heaving chest and could see the sweat pouring from his brow.
He stopped for a moment. Struggling to catch his breath, he screamed, “I’ll kill you.”
Filling her lungs to capacity, all she could think about was Will’s sadistic murder of her father.
“You sick son of a bitch,” she screamed, launching the fire extinguisher directly at his face.
The canister rotated a half turn before thumping him directly where Morgan had intended. His head snapped backward, tearing his grip loose. Morgan spun her head away and closed her eyes. His final scream was a piercing one that faded into the black abyss. When she looked back, she saw nothing except the open door.
Morgan didn’t have time to consider what she had just lived through. Thinking for even an instant she was out of harm’s way would probably prove to be a fatal error in judgment. She was now in a predicament that many a pilots considered a true nightmare. She was flying at a hundred twenty miles an hour with an open door. Her first move was to return the Cirrus to a normal flight configuration and begin a slow turn back to the west. Once she was on a course heading back to Florida, she picked up the radio, contacted flight control, and declared an emergency.
Following her emergency flight procedures to the letter, Morgan made a picture-perfect approach and touched down at the Hollywood-Fort Lauderdale airport thirty minutes later. Watching the emergency vehicles approach, she reached down, rubbed her abdomen, and began crying.
EPILOGUE
TWO WEEKS LATER
Ben and Morgan left her apartment and rode the elevator down to the lobby.
Ben had called ahead and had the doorman bring his car around to the front. After helping Morgan in, he got in on his side and started the engine.
“I heard from the medical board late yesterday afternoon,” she said.
“You didn’t say anything.”
“We were having such a good time last night, I didn’t want to talk about anything remotely related to the hospital.”
“I assume the news was good.”
“Their e-mail wasn’t definite, but it seems like they’ve decided to drop the investigation.”
“That’s great news,” Ben said, pulling out onto A1A.
With no enthusiasm in her voice, she said, “Unlike Bob Allenby and the hospital board, they probably won’t feel compelled to apologize.”
“Bob may surprise you. He’s a little preoccupied right now. By the way, have you heard anything about his son?”
Morgan smiled. “He’s actually doing better than anybody expected. He’s already in rehab. Bob said his doctors expect a complete recovery.” She paused for a few seconds. Her face became somber. “That’s more than I can say for Will Johnson.”
“You mean the man who ran him over? C’mon, Morgan. We’ve talked about this. You have to quit beating yourself up about what happened. You’re lucky to be alive, for God’s sake. Will Johnson was criminally insane. He murdered your father in cold blood and would have done the same to you. How can you feel any remorse for this guy?”
“He was sick, Ben.”
“So what? The circumstances didn’t exactly lend themselves to having him committed for long-term inpatient psychiatric treatment.” Ben shook his head. “It’s not as if you had some other option.”
“I’m just saying that maybe with some help and medication he could have—”
Ben downshifted as he eased back down below the speed limit. “You need to let this go . . . at least for this morning. The only thing that really matters is that your baby’s fine and that your professional life is back to normal.”
She smiled. “What’s the big surprise? Where are we going?
“I thought we could go down to South Beach. The Delano has a great brunch.”
She whistled softly. “Very classy.”
“It’s an all-you-can-eat deal. It should be perfect for you.” Morgan laughed. Ben cleared his throat in a way that betrayed he had something else on his mind.
“Ask me,” she said.
“What do you say to taking a few days off?”
She grinned. “What did you have in mind?”
“I figured we could take the new jet down to St. Kitts. I’ve been looking for a reason to stretch her legs. There’s a great Four Seasons down there.”
“You’re spoiling me,” she told him as she leaned over and put her arm around his shoulders. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a little thing for me.”
Ben slowed to a stop at a red light and looked over at Morgan. “Actually, it’s a big thing.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“My father once told me that he fell in love with my mother before they ever met. I didn’t understand what he meant until I met you.”
Ben’s confession left Morgan speechless. Had it not been for the deafening blast of the SUV’s horn from behind them, their kiss would have stopped traffic for a long time.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gary Birken, M.D., is the author of the medical thrillers Error in Judgement, Final Diagnosis, Plague, Embolus, and Code 15. He presently lives in Hollywood, Florida, where he serves as the surgeon in chief of the Joe DiMaggio Children’s Hospital. Please visit his website at http://garybirken.com.
