Dirk Myers closed his eyes and mentally took himself back to when his wife was acting normally. Then, ever so slowly, he began a slow playback of every minute of the previous few hours. Something happened, and he was bound and determined to find out what.
*
Charles jumped up and ran to the window a moment before Asa disappeared into the blowing snow. He didn’t see any point in going after him, believing that the both of them would then be found dead from exposure. He figured the cold would bring the young man around soon enough.
The operations officer pulled the phone from his ear when he heard the copilot yelling at his captain. The heated exchange was such a strange occurrence to witness, the gaunt-looking, graying, chain-smoker was completely aghast. In all his years of working for Pan American, he’d never heard anyone raise their voice to a Pan Am captain. And not only did the junior officer raise his voice, he insulted his captain and called him names. In some small way that he could not yet fathom, his view of pilots had been forever altered. Quite unexpectedly, the old man realized that airline pilots were just as human as everyone else.
Without exchanging words with the sullen-faced operations agent, Charles took the phone and spoke to his dispatcher. He scribbled their new flight plan on a blank piece of paper and then stuffed it into his pocket. After hanging up the phone, the forlorn-looking captain silently walked away. For even Charles himself realized that the world as he knew it, the hierarchy of the cockpit, the supremeness of a Pan Am captain, and indeed the airline itself had been challenged. Nothing would ever be the same. Charles walked outside and into the freezing tempest, sensing a deep shiver pass through his body.
*
G.R. waved to Charles as he and the young lady he was following passed on the ice-laden ramp. For a brief moment, he noted a very odd looking expression on his captain’s face and it troubled him. But he quickly brushed it aside, preferring to avoid derailment. After all, G.R. had more pressing matters to deal with. A potential conquest was at hand.
*
Asa streaked across the ramp, blinded by anger and hurt. The thought of losing the man he owed his entire life to was beyond comprehension. Every friend he’d ever had could die before his very eyes and it could not possibly equal the pain of losing his dad. Asa knew in every ounce of his being that the whole of the universe would never be able to fill the sudden void he felt inside. The young copilot couldn’t think straight. He was overwhelmed and just wanted to go somewhere and die.
Asa was lost. Not only could he practically feel his soul withering inside of him, but in a brief moment of clarity, Asa realized that he was indeed lost. Through the hard, crusty patches of snow beneath his feet he saw a bright white line. He knew instantly that he was standing on a runway. He looked around, but the blowing snow and biting wind concealed his way back.
Asa picked a direction, unsure of where it would take him, and ran. He could feel his cheeks and ears getting warmer and knew immediately what it meant: he didn’t have much time left.
*
“Mr. Tacker, the cabin is cooling off rapidly. Can you get us some heat?” asked Kelly, standing in the forward cabin while holding the cockpit door slightly ajar.
“Kelly, it takes battery power to start the heater on the ground,” said John. “I’m afraid to do that because it might deplete the batteries, and then we won’t be able to start an engine.”
“Well, will you start an engine to get us some heat then?” asked Kelly.
“Hey, you’re letting the cold air in,” complained Ed, without bothering to open his eyes.
“I know,” said Kelly. “You guys shut the door to stay warm and then leave us back here to fend for ourselves.”
“Charles will be here in a minute. I think it might be best if I let him make that call,” said John.
“I hope he’s quick about it,” said Kelly, before slamming the cockpit door.
Without any emotion, and with eyes firmly closed, Ed commented, “I’m sure glad I’m not married to that one.”
*
Charles entered the aircraft and scanned the cabin for any sign of Asa. “Sue,” he asked, “have you seen Asa?”
“No, captain, I haven’t,” she replied. “But it’s getting kind of cold in here. Can you get us some heat?”
“Yes, right away,” said Charles. He then turned and walked briskly to the cockpit, sincerely hoping he’d find Asa there.
During his walk, he considered his options. He didn’t want to leave Asa behind, not in his current state of mind, but he could see no other way. The young man was a danger to himself and possibly others. But at the same time, he was deeply concerned about his copilot’s well-being, knowing that he was not properly dressed for the weather and would likely not last very long. But as captain, Charles knew that he had to remain focused on the big picture. His position demanded that he keep all those in his charge safe. He simply could not allow himself to lose sight of that fact, merely in hopes of rescuing one half-crazed man. And besides, there was a schedule to keep.
“John, see if you can rustle up Lars and have him come up here so we can start an engine. Then I’d like you to go outside and make sure that everyone and everything is clear of our aircraft before we start,” ordered Charles.
“Right away, Charles,” replied John.
Though John seemed outwardly to be happy to do as he’d been told, on the inside he was thinking, Why didn’t you just look around the airplane yourself while you were out there, instead of making me do it? No, don’t tell me, you enjoy issuing orders. Do you direct your wife around like this, too?
Liesel vacated the captain’s seat and followed John to the aft part of the cockpit. “Stay warm out there,” she said.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll just think of you,” said John.
If there were any doubts in Liesel’s mind, John’s comment put them to rest. It was clear that the senior copilot had fallen for her. She knew that she liked him a lot and wanted to get to know him better, but feared her feelings were not quite as far along as his. Liesel stood in the cockpit doorway with an odd expression on her face. She simply wasn’t up to breaking another pilot’s heart. Not again.
*
Lars watched the ambulance crew drive off into the snow. His mind was preoccupied with fear and concern, and he briefly wondered what his obligation was regarding Sonny’s widow. As he turned to make his way forward, he accidently bumped into a mountain-sized man who was walking aft to grab his coat from the closet. “Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Lars.
“Watch where you’re going, kid,” replied the annoyed coach passenger.
“Yes sir, I certainly will,” said Lars.
“Hey, how about getting some heat in this tin can before we all freeze to death!” the portly man exclaimed.
“I will, sir, right away,” answered Lars.
“Now is better than right away,” stated the man.
“Sir, I…” said Lars, before being distracted by the screams of someone in the forward cabin. When he turned to look, he saw a partially frozen Asa.
“I’m not going back!” shouted Asa. “You can’t make me!”
Kelly and Sue stood in the cabin and stared at the young man in amazement. Asa’s face and hands were ashen white, while the rest of his body was covered with snow and ice from head to toe. Their junior copilot very much resembled the abominable snow man.
Asa turned and ran toward the aft cabin. When he reached Lars’s side he screamed, “I’m not going back, Lars! I have nothing to live for! My dad is dead. He’s dead!”
“I know, Asa, and I’m very sorry,” said Lars.
“You knew? You knew and you didn’t say anything? Does everyone know?” he yelled. Shaking his head back and forth, “I can’t believe you people. Why?”
“Asa, please, calm down. Everything will be fine. The captain asked us not to say anything so he could tell you at the right time,” said Lars.
The moment John exited the cockpit he was instantly drawn to t
he drama in the aft cabin.
“Why, so I wouldn’t crash the plane? Is that it? So I wouldn’t kill myself?” shouted Asa.
“Asa, please. You have to stop,” pleaded Lars.
“Shut up! You’re just an engineer! What do you know?” continued Asa.
“Young man, perhaps you should take your friend’s advice and calm down,” suggested the overweight, oversized, and clearly annoyed passenger who was standing next to Lars.
Asa reeled back and punched the hostile passenger in the face.
The man was struck so hard, the six-foot-four, two hundred and ninety-five pound giant lost his balance and stumbled backwards. His arms flailed about as he staggered out of control into the aft part of the cabin. The incredible scene ended when the man landed on his back in the exact spot where Sonny’s body had been laid out. The irate passenger was knocked out cold.
“Mind your own business! Who asked you?” cried Asa.
John arrived just in time to see Asa strike the man down. He stood with Lars in total disbelief. Neither could believe the skinny, sandy-haired kid from Connecticut managed to deck a man who was easily three times his size.
“Asa,” said John. But he was too late.
Asa turned and ran for the exit. The man who believed that he had nothing left, ran from the airplane and across the ramp. He ran as fast and as far as he could before falling into a snow drift. Asa was mentally and physically exhausted, and wanted only for it all to end.
When Charles heard the commotion, he jumped up and hurried to the back of the airplane. When he saw the house-sized passenger lying motionless on the floor, he asked, “What’s going on here? Why is this man on the floor?”
Neither Lars nor John responded. Both were still struggling to take in the surreal scene that had just played out before them.
“This man has been hit,” said Charles as he bent down to help the man up. “Oh my, he’s out cold.” Charles slowly stood up and then turned to face his underlings, shouting quietly in a stern voice, “I’m going to ask again! What happened here!?”
Lars started to say, “Captain, Asa…” before John cut him off.
“I hit him, captain. He was causing a scene and threatening Lars,” said John. “It was my only choice.”
Both Lars and the captain stared at John. Each wondered why.
Charles then looked at Lars and asked, “What about Asa?”
“He came into the cabin, ran back here and then ran out again,” said John. “I have no idea where he went. The entire time he was screaming like a madman.”
“Yeah,” added Lars, “the guy has totally flipped his lid.”
Charles was unsure of how to proceed. One of his first officers was running around like a lunatic and scaring the wits out of everyone. And to make matters worse, moments after removing a dead body from his airplane his other copilot struck a passenger to the floor. In all of his years as captain he had never seen anything like it. He shook his head. “John, this is another black mark. I’m not going to be able to protect you from the fallout.” Then, looking like a beaten man, Charles turned and walked through the chilly cabin back to the cockpit.
Once the captain was out of earshot, Lars asked, “Why, John? Why would you take the blame?”
“Asa has been through enough. He doesn’t need to lose his job, too. I’ll take the heat,” said John. “I think you’d better get back up front and see if we can get some heat in here.”
Lars wasn’t sure if John was a man to be admired or an utter fool.
*
“What’s your name?” asked G.R. as he watched the girl before him remove her outer garments.
“Kristin. What’s yours?” she asked.
“Most people call me G.R,” he said, gazing upon the stunningly beautiful angel standing before him. It didn’t take long, however, for him to conclude that she was far too young.
“Are you married or seeing anyone?” he asked, not really sure why. He assumed he was acting on instinct. But his words made him feel foolish and caused him to shake his head slightly in disapproval the moment they left his lips.
“No, I’m free, but I generally don’t date men that are more than a few years older than me,” she said.
The words were painful to hear, but G.R. being who he was, refused to quit so early in the game. He figured he’d play around, if for no other reason than to see where it ended up.
“I’m not as old as I look. Flying all over the world has weathered me a little bit, but I think you’d be surprised,” suggested G.R. with a grin.
“Icelandic men don’t like outsiders dating their women,” said Kristin.
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” said G.R., turning his grin into a full blown smile. “And if you don’t mind me saying, your English is impeccable.”
“Why, thank you. My father is an American. He moved here after the war,” said Kristin.
“I can see that your father has done quite well for himself. So I guess there was at least one Icelandic woman who got away,” noted G.R.
Kristen laughed and then replied, “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
With the ice broken between them, G.R. instinctively told himself to move in for the kill. But he stopped well short, knowing that his prey was simply too young and innocent. “Do you ever travel to the States?” he asked, before instantly becoming distracted by one of the engines on the DC6 that was springing to life. “Oh, boy,” he added, “I’d better go. I enjoyed meeting you. Thank you again for your help.”
“Yes, me as well,” she said. “Have a nice flight.”
G.R. darted toward the exit feeling uncomfortably old. As he placed his hand on the door knob, the much older station agent looked up from his telephone and said, “The police are on their way.”
“The police? For what reason?” asked G.R.
“Your passenger died on the way to the hospital. And oddly enough, they found a gun in one of his socks. Bringing firearms into Iceland is strictly controlled,” stated the man.
“So? That’s his problem, not ours.”
The man placed his hand over the mouthpiece and said, “I think if you don’t leave soon the flight will be cancelled. And more importantly, they will likely detain the crew for questioning.”
“Question what? The guy died of a heart attack!” said the clearly annoyed G.R.
The man removed his hand from the mouthpiece and said, “You had better inform the captain that the police wish to speak with him as well as the passengers. It looks like you may not be going anywhere, sir.”
G.R. could hear the police officer on the other end of the phone line demanding that the flight be held. Unsure of what to do, he noticed the operations agent stand up and point at the airplane. G.R. shrugged his shoulders. A second later, he watched as the man, still on the telephone, brushed his free hand back and forth in a sweeping motion. The nonverbal message was clear: the agent was warning him to get out of Iceland. G. R. flung open the door and bolted across the bitterly cold ramp.
The moment G.R stepped outside he noticed the snow intensity had increased dramatically. It was so heavy, he had trouble seeing the airplane. As he jumped onto the airstairs, climbing two at a time, he glanced at the wings. Thankfully, they were clear. With the temperature as low as it was and the wind so forceful, the super-dry snow refused to adhere to the airplane.
G.R. entered the cabin and slammed the door behind him. He was about to turn for the cockpit, but altered course when he saw John standing in the aft cabin. Aroused with curiosity, he walked toward him wondering why the copilot was staring at the floor. When he got a little closer, the aging engineer got his answer. “What happened to him?” he asked, pointing at the unconscious passenger.
“It was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen. Asa came running in here like a madman and punched the guy. He hit him so hard, he knocked him out,” said John.
“Little Asa?” asked G.R.
“You had to see it to believe it. I don’t know the whole story, b
ut the guy must have provoked him. I mean, why else would Asa get involved? I didn’t think the kid had the wherewithal.”
“No, it’s my guess that Charles told him about his dad,” suggested G.R.
“What about his dad?” inquired John.
“Oh, that’s right, you weren’t in the cockpit. We got a call from New York that Asa’s dad passed away,” said G.R.
“Oh my word,” said John, visibly shaken. “Wow, such news. And far from home, too.” Then after staring at the floor for a minute in silence, he added, “I suppose that would explain his actions. But Asa wasn’t sad, he was acting more like he’d just found out that his girlfriend was pregnant by his worst enemy. He was quite insane.”
“John, we have bigger problems right now,” said G.R.
“Huh? Like what?” asked John.
“John, the police are on their way. Don’t ask me all the details, there isn’t time. But the dead guy had a gun on him and they want to bring us all in for questioning. We need to get out of here right now,” said G.R.
“Oh, well, OK. Then I guess I’d better inform Charles,” said John.
“John, if you know what’s good for you: do not tell Charles. No one except the station agent is aware that the cops are coming. I don’t know and you don’t know, but if Charles finds out we are all going to be here for a few days while they sort this thing out.”
“Why? We didn’t do anything wrong.”
“John, didn’t you see the man’s neck? He didn’t have a heart attack: He was strangled. Someone on this airplane killed him,” said G.R., speaking in a whisper.
“Are you crazy?” asked John.
“John, trust me. The man was killed,” said G.R.
“How in the world are you so certain?”
“John, the dead man is the same guy that was threatening Lars. He had a past. My guess is that he had the wrong kind of friends. Maybe he crossed one of them.”
“If what you say is true, then none of us are safe. The killer is likely still on board,” noted John.
Sojourners of the Sky Page 14
