God-Speed
Page 1
God-Speed
A Corps Justice Short Story
Copyright © 2013 Corps Justice. All Rights Reserved
Author: C. G. Cooper
Editor: Karen Rought
(http://www.CorpsJustice.com)
This is a work of fiction based on the true events of 9/11. Characters, names, locations and exact events are all products of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to actual events or real persons are completely coincidental.
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Warning: This story is intended for mature audiences and contains profanity and violence.
Dedications
To my amazing wife who listens to all my crazy stories. I love you, K, and couldn’t do it without you!
To my entire family and amazing group of friends that have supported me so unconditionally. You guys are awesome.
To those who lost loved ones on 9/11. I pray that you live life to the fullest.
Washington Dulles International Airport, Dulles, Virginia
7:04am, September 11th, 2001
Colonel Calvin Stokes, USMC (Retired) grabbed the two boarding passes and left the ticket counter with his wife. The couple looked to be in their mid- to late-forties. He was a handsome man standing a shade less than six feet. His closely cropped hair was only slightly longer than he’d worn it while on active duty. He put his arm around his wife as they strolled casually through the airport.
His wife stood perhaps a foot shorter with prematurely gray hair. Her face belied the fact. She was a beautiful Southern Belle.
“It was wonderful seeing Cal in Charlottesville,” said Mrs. Stokes with a sad look in her eyes.
“Come on, honey. We just left him this morning. You saw how well he’s doing at U.Va. A chip off the old block, I’d say.”
His wife looked up at him skeptically.
“A chip off the old block? I seem to remember you almost got kicked out of Annapolis for pulling that silly prank with the Army mule.”
Col. Stokes chuckled “I was a legend for stealing that ugly mule. Wasn’t that the weekend we met and…you know?”
Mrs. Stokes blushed a deep crimson.
“Oh you hush, Calvin. You know we did no such thing.”
Stokes brushed a stray wisp of hair from his wife’s face.
“I know, honey. If anyone asks, you retained your purity until Midnight of our wedding.”
His wife slapped him playfully on the back.
“You are impossible, Colonel Stokes,” she replied.
“Once a Marine, always a Marine, Mrs. Stokes.”
They made their way toward the security checkpoint. She giggled as he made hushed comments under his breath. It looked like they were people watching as they moved.
The airport was full of travelers. Businessmen mixed with mothers holding crying babies. Security was present, but casual.
Col. Stokes touched his wife on the back and pointed to a news shop.
“I’m going to grab a newspaper. Need anything?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve got my new John Grisham in my carry-on.” She patted her purse with a smile.
“Okay. How about you go get us a spot in line? I’ll be right behind you.”
They each went their separate ways, never suspecting that it would be a day unlike any other.
+++
7:18am
Stokes spotted his wife in the crowd and made a beeline to where she was. He excused himself as he stepped in and around the swarm of passengers.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it, Calvin.”
“Sorry, honey. I got stuck behind some kid that couldn’t decide between peanut or regular M&M’s.”
Mrs. Stokes searched her husband’s face. “Are you lying to me?”
He grinned sheepishly.
“They were showing some football highlights on ESPN. Had to see what McNair is going to do this year.”
Mrs. Stokes shook her head.
“You and your Titans. I think it would’ve been better if they’d stayed in Houston.”
Col. Stokes’ eyebrows rose.
“I’m just kiddin’, Darlin’. You know how happy I am to have football in Tennessee.” She rolled her eyes. “At least you and Cal have been able to use those season tickets.”
“Sometimes I miss the Marine Corps, but other times I’m glad I decided to retire. Couldn’t fly Cal home any weekend he wants on a Colonel’s pay.”
They neared the first security personnel, and Col. Stokes scanned the area as if by habit. His eyes stopped on a pair of Middle Eastern travelers who’d been flagged for additional screening. Both men were politely escorted to a slightly secluded spot. Argenbright Security staff proceeded to use hand wands to scan the two men. The wands kept sounding.
“They need to take them somewhere else,” Stokes thought out loud.
“What’s that, honey?”
“Huh? Oh nothing. You know me. Just being nosey.”
“Well come on, Mr. Nosey. We’re next.”
He followed his wife while still keeping an eye on the proceedings up ahead. It didn’t look like security was going to conduct a more thorough search despite the repeated alarms from the detection equipment. The lead agent shrugged his shoulders and motioned for his colleagues to let the men through.
Both men grabbed their belongings and set off at a leisurely pace.
Col. Stokes continued to watch the men, his eyes squinting in appraisal.
“Next,” said the slightly overweight security attendant manning the entrance.
Colonel and Mrs. Stokes took their turns walking through the scanner. Neither was carrying or wearing anything that set off the detection system. Once through, they gathered their sparse carry-ons and looked for the departure boards.
“What gate are we at?” Col. Stokes asked his wife.
She looked down at their boarding passes.
“D-26.”
+++
7:40am, Gate D-26
Col. Stokes sipped on a newly acquired cup of coffee as his wife kept her eyes glued to her Grisham novel. He looked over at her fondly and smiled. He loved her very much. Taking his eyes off his wife, he went back to scanning the crowd.
His head stopped moving as his focus centered on the nearby restrooms. Two men exited, one right behind the other. It was the same guys from the security checkpoint who’d been searched.
Without glancing at each other, they made their way to two of the last open seats in the waiting area. Each took out a newspaper and commenced perusing.
Damn if they don’t look like they’re not into their papers, Col. Stokes thought.
Before he could examine them further, the gate agent’s voice came over the loudspeaker.
“American Airlines Flight 77 will be boarding momentarily at Gate D-26. I repeat, American Airlines Flight 77 will be boarding at Gate D-26. Please have your boarding passes and identification ready. Any passengers traveling with infants…”
Col. Stokes turned back from watching the agent make her announcement and looked at his wife.
“Looks like it won’t be a very full flight.”
Mrs. Stokes merely nodded as she continued reading.
+++
7:49am
“That’s us right there, honey. Seats 30D and 30E,” Col. Stokes relayed, pointing to their assigned seating.
“Remind me again why we can’t fly in first class, Calvin,” she requested with an annoyed look.
The annoyed look on her face made it seem that this wasn’t the first time they’d had the conversation.
“It’s just one of my things, sweetheart.”
“Could you at least get us seats that aren’t next to the lavatory next time?” she huffe
d.
Col. Stokes just shook his head and helped his wife stow her large purse in the overhead bin. They quickly shuffled out of the aisle and got comfortable. Mrs. Stokes noticed her husband looking around.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I’m just looking for someone.”
“Who?”
“Those two Saudi Arabians I saw earlier.”
“When was this? And how do you know they were Saudi Arabian? I can’t tell any them apart.”
“Must’ve been my time in the Saudi before Desert Storm.”
“You never told me you went over there. I thought you were staged in Kuwait.”
Stokes nodded.
“We were, but me and the General…”
“Bobby Carnes?”
“Yeah. Me and General Carnes flew over to coordinate with the Saudi forces. Needed to make sure everyone was on the same page when the invasion of Iraq began.”
His wife stifled a fake yawn ,and Col. Stokes rolled his eyes.
“All right, missy. Why don’t you get back to your novel and let me do what I do.”
She looked up at him one more time with a confused look.
“Are you sure everything’s okay, Calvin?”
“Nothing to worry about, honey. Just me being paranoid as usual.”
She shook her head and refocused on her book. Col. Stokes watched the remaining passengers as they boarded the plane. He was sitting on the aisle, so there was a perfect view up to the cockpit. Two more Middle Easterners took seats in row twelve. Stokes examined them carefully. Neither man put anything in the overhead bins, instead electing to put their small bags under the seats in front of them.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?”
Stokes turned left and looked at the little boy, who was no more than six years old, sitting across the aisle. His mother was busy feeding her other child, an infant, and the father was already asleep against the window. Stokes chuckled.
“Oh, I was just watching the people coming in.”
“You know, Mommy says it’s not polite to stare.”
Stokes’s face turned serious.
“You’re right. My mom told me the same thing when I was your age. How old are you anyway? Twelve?”
The boy’s chest puffed out and he shook his head.
“I’m five and a half. I’ll be six in March.”
Stokes whistled.
“Wow. You sure coulda fooled me. Are you sure you’re not twelve?”
“Nope.”
“As long as you say so. You know, I remember when my boy was your age. He used to get into all kinds of trouble. Do you get in a lot of trouble?”
The boy smiled and shook his head.
“Not me. Daddy says I need to stay on the straight and arrow.”
“You mean straight and narrow?”
“That’s what I said,” the boy replied indignantly.
“You’re right. Sorry. Must be getting old. Can’t hear so good.”
The young boy nodded gravely. “Mommy says you should always clean out your ears so you can hear right.”
Stokes couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “You’re really something aren’t you, buddy?”
“Yes, sir.”
Without another word to Stokes, the young boy switched his attention back to the Power Rangers coloring book he had splayed across his lap.
Stokes turned to his wife.
“Do you remember when Cal was that age?” he asked.
“Seems like only yesterday.”
Stokes smiled, closed his eyes and leaned back as far as the stiff chair would allow.
“Only yesterday,” he repeated thoughtfully.
+++
8:49am
Col. Stokes’s woke from his short nap. The turbulence had caused his head to roll to the left. He caught himself before leaning into the aisle.
Stokes looked around and found that the little boy was still hard at work on his blue Power Ranger. He swiveled around and faced his wife, stifling a yawn.
“What did I miss?” he asked.
She didn’t look up from her book when she answered.
“You know, the usual. Kid becomes lawyer. Lawyer goes to big law firm. Law firm gets in trouble with the mob...”
“Not in the book, honey. I meant on take-off.”
His wife giggled like she was still eighteen.
“You’re so easy sometimes, Calvin.” She waved away his teasingly annoyed look and said in her best ‘Marine’ voice, “Apologies, Colonel. Pre-flight check was textbook. Flight attendant gave a satisfactory safety brief. All passengers listening as per SOP, and you fell asleep and were snoring before we even taxied onto the runway. Minimal turbulence. Pilot said we’ll be ten minutes ahead of schedule.”
Stokes smiled. “You sure you didn’t go to Parris Island before we met?” he asked.
“I’m a Marine wife, darlin’. Same damn thing.”
He laughed out loud and didn’t dispute her remark. Marine wives were as tough as they came.
“Did they say anything about the beverage cart? I need some water.”
“Not yet. I told you not to have all those drinks with Cal last night.”
“I couldn’t let Cal go to the Biltmore alone, honey. It was Margarita Monday!”
“He wasn’t alone. He was going with his…nevermind. It amazes me that a grown man would still think that he can keep up with a bunch of college kids.”
“What can I say? Once a…”
“I know, I know. Once a Marine, always a Marine,” she replied in a deep voice.
He chuckled then looked down the aisle to see if he could wave down the stewardess. The flight attendant was nowhere to be seen, but there were five men standing in the narrow passageway. As Stokes watched, three of the men, all from First Class, stepped up to the cockpit door. The two remaining men stayed in their place near row 12. One of the men pulled something from his pocket. It was a common utility knife. He pushed the blade out then put it back in his pocket, his hand remained there as well.
“Oh shit,” Stokes whispered.
“Watch your mouth, Calvin! There are little…” She glanced up and saw the look on her husband’s face. Her complexion paled. “What is it?”
“It might be nothing. Hold on…”
Stokes watched as the three men in First Class pushed a flight attendant aside and forced their way into the cockpit.
“God dammit,” Stokes said in a soft voice.
“What is it, Calvin? You’re scaring me.”
“I need you to listen to me. There are some men up there that are about to hijack this plane.”
“Oh, Calvin…” she moaned.
“Shhh. Now look. It’s important to stay as calm as possible. I know you’re scared, but dig out that Marine wife we were just talking about. Can you do that?”
She nodded wordlessly, tears already streaming down her face. Stokes kissed his wife on the forehead.
“I’ll be right back.”
Ignoring his pleading wife, he stood up in the walkway and stretched casually. Next he turned, opened the lavatory door, peaked in and then closed the door. Stokes made a disgusted face and starting walking up the aisle.
One of the Arab-looking men turned and motioned for him to stop. Sweat covered his brow and his pupils were dilated.
“You must go back to seat,” he said in heavily accented English.
Stokes smiled. “I was just going to use the bathroom up front. The one in the back isn’t working.”
He motioned with his thumb toward the rear of the aircraft.
“No. Go back to seat,” the man ordered more forcefully.
“Come on, man. I had a couple drinks at the bar before we left, and I’ve really gotta take a piss.”
Before the man could answer, the overhead speaker came to life and a serious voice blanketed the cabin.
“Attention passengers of American Airlines Flight 77. Your airplane is now in the possession of the divine brotherhood of al-Qaeda
and the emir Osama bin Laden. Do as we say and no one will get hurt.” The voice paused as worried voices started to fill the space. “In thirty seconds all passengers will file to the back of the aircraft. I say again. Do so in an orderly manner and no one will get hurt.”
Stokes looked at the man standing in front of him. He and his partner were now brandishing their knives. The Marine looked to be contemplating his next actions.
“You boys sure you want to do this?” he asked the hijackers.
The man smiled wildly and pointed his knife at Stokes’s face.
“You move to back of plane…or I cut you.”
Stokes didn’t look afraid as he returned the man’s glare. The terrorist’s partner was now listening to the conversation, obviously ready to assist if needed.
“All right, I’ll go,” Stokes growled.
He headed back the way he’d come, a look of deep concentration on his face. Taking a seat next to his wife, she crumpled into his arms.
“What are we going to do?” she bawled softly.
“I don’t know, honey. I don’t know.”
+++
9:09am
Stokes had cautiously tried to use his cell phone as the remaining passengers were ushered to the back of the plane. He couldn’t get a good signal.
“Honey, you stay here for a minute. I’ll be right back,” he said to his wife.
“No. You stay with me, Calvin,” she pleaded.
“I promise I’ll be right back. I just need to take a look. You keep trying Cal on my cell phone.”
He handed the phone to her and then made his way to the front of the group. He pushed past scared travelers as he tried to get a better view at the front of the plane. Most of the women were crying and the men were doing their best to look brave. They made way for the advancing Marine.
Finally at the front of the pack, he addressed the terrorist closest to the group.
“I want to speak with whoever’s in charge,” said Stokes.
The man laughed and said something to his companion in their native tongue. His friend laughed nervously and kept his eyes on Stokes.