by Colin Weldon
He was in a bad mood. He hated being grounded due to bad weather and was currently sitting with his feet up on the table staring out at the airfield windsock, wondering if he would just risk it. He had flown in far worse. He rubbed his ample belly and removed the aluminium foil from the home-made sandwich his wife had made for him that morning. She joined him in the next seat and took out a flask of hot coffee. She was two years younger than he was and kept in much better shape by playing golf with her friends three times a week. Wilbur hated the golf crowd and detested her friends. Forty years of dealing with the public had left its mark.
“Stop your griping and just take them out, jeez,” she replied, sighing.
Wilbur peeled back the two slices of rye bread and removed the thickly cut pieces of pickle and flung them into the trash grumbling to himself. He placed the pieces back together and took a bite. He had to admit that, other than the pickles, Dee made a killer sandwich.
“You’re ridiculous paranoia is getting to be unbearable, you know that?, Will,” Dee said to him, pouring herself a cup of black coffee.
“Nonsense, these guys are playing roulette with our money,” he replied grumbling.
He continued eating his lunch as he stared out at the small airfield.
“This may clear up in an hour and then we can take her up,” he said, sounding hopeful even to himself.
They sat in silence and ate their lunch for a few minutes before being interrupted by the sound of crackling on the radio. Wilbur frowned and looked at the free-standing microphone.
“That was weird,” Wilbur said looking at Dee, “any of the boys up there today?”
Dee shook her head.
“No, I don’t think so, Dave is in the hanger working on the Piper. He said he’s staying put for the day,” she said.
The radio crackled again.
“Mattituck, this is Air Force One coming in heavy, declaring an emergency, clear the runway!” came a strong male voice over the radio.
Wilbur, with a face full of sandwich looked at his wife with wide eyes. He remained still.
“Did he say…?” Dee said to him looking shocked.
Wilbur swallowed his food.
“This is bullshit, some kids on the line,” Wilbur replied taking the mic and pressing down the talk button.
“This is Mattituck please repeat your last,” Wilbur said looking out of the window and up at the sky.
“Mattituck, Air Force One we are making an emergency landing at your field. Clear all aircraft and notify the air force on frequency 303.5. This is not a drill,” came the male voice.
Wilbur turned to Dee who was now out of her chair and looking up at sky. She dropped her coffee on the ground and pointed.
“Holy… shit!” she said.
That was the first time Wilbur had heard her curse in years. He looked up and saw a large aircraft emerging from the grey fog. He grabbed his binoculars and saw the familiar markings on the 747.
“Holy…shit!” he repeated, dropping his sandwich on the desk.
Trails of smoke billowed from the engines and the wings seemed to be bobbing from left to right.
“What do we do!” Dee shouted at him.
Wilbur had no idea. A 747 could not land on this runway, it needed at least 7000 feet, it was a good 5000 feet too short. The plane would either go in the trees or the water depending on what direction it landed. Right now it was lined up to skid off the end and end up in the lake at the bottom of the runway.
“Jesus, go get Dave!” Wilbur said frantically looking at the aircraft. It was low, at two thousand feet by the looks of it.
He grabbed the mic, his hands shaking.
“Air Force One, Mattituck, please be advised run ways is clear, advise you to come in from North, runway One Nine, we do not have the tarmac to facilitate!” Wilbur said.
“Understood Mattituck, One Nine, please have fire on standby, final transmission on final approach,” came the stern voice as the radio clicked off.
The huge aircraft made a turn and began lining up. Wilbur was frozen in place as he watched it descend. He turned and ran to the door of the office and made his way out onto the airfield taxiway. He ducked his head under the ‘Dee’ as he stood looking up. The sound of a struggling engine preceded the awesome sight of the 747 as it clipped the tops of trees and soared over his head, taking a layer of branches off the top as it did so. It was coming in fast. The landing gear was down so at least it would protect he engines. His heart pounded as the plane dangled fifty feet off the small runway.
Air Force One.
“Brace, Brace, Brace!” Charlie said into the intercom.
Eddie curled his body into the brace position as the he felt the thud of the wheels touch the earth. He was momentarily relieved, before remembering what Charlie had said about the length of the runway.
“We’re gonna hit the water, get out and blow the exterior hatch!” shouted Strom.
Eddie looked up at Hiran and gave him a reassuring nod, reminding himself to make sure the young man got a commendation if they got out of this. Then he thought about Abigail’s body still lying in the other room. He looked at Nora who had her eyes closed but looked relatively calm.
“Hold on!” shouted Strom. Eddie’s body was thrust sideways. The sound of water hit the underside of the plane. The nose still felt like it was tilted upwards and Eddie realised that Strom had balanced the back wheels of the plane on the ground and kept the nose up to stop the plane from pitching forwards. The deceleration was speedy. The belt buckle dug in hard against his stomach. He tensed and held on to the back of Strom’s seat to try and counteract the force. Water rushed past the windows. After several seconds the plane came to an abrupt stop and began bobbing up and down. The nose gently sank forwards and all Eddie could see was ocean.
“Shut it down!” Strom said to Charlie, “ok everyone, let’s get the hell out of here.”
The group unbuckled their belts. Hiran, holding his computer tightly in his chest, flipped the buckle and made for the door. Eddie looked at Nora and gestured for her to go first. Strom stared at her hands and frowned. Eddie suddenly realised this was probably the first time he had seen her cybernetic implants.
“Colonel, let’s just evacuate.” Eddie said to him in a calm voice.
Strom looked at Eddie and then back at Nora who was holding herself defensively as if to prepare herself from an attack.
“Go,” Strom said to them..
Eddie looked at Nora and flicked his head to get her out of the cockpit. As they exited they were met by Holt and the president, who were at the exit. Holt had already blown the door and the emergency slide was down. Eddie felt a cool breeze against his face as they stood looking out at the sea. He heard the sounds of helicopters approaching and figured that of course the military would know where they were. He thought about Abigail.
“Hell of a landing, Colonel,” said Royo breaking the tension.
“Not my finest sir, but any landing you can walk away from and all that,” Strom said.
Eddie heard a popping sound coming from the rear of the plane and then a gushing noise.
“She’s breached! Everyone out!” Strom said as the sound of rushing water filled the air.
Eddie took one last look in the direction of his fallen team member then back to the group.
“Go!” Eddie shouted. Holt took the president by the arm and led him onto the slide.
The pair disappeared out of the door, followed by Hiran. Eddie motioned for Nora to go next. He looked down the interior of the plane and saw the water begin to pour in. The plane was sinking. Fast. Nora followed and Eddie quickly behind her. He jumped onto the slide and slid down into the water. It was freezing. The life raft, which was automatically deployed, was only a few metres away and Eddie swam to it grabbing hold. Royo and Holt were already in and helping the others into it.
Nora lifted herself in and rolled onto her back. Hiran grabbed Eddie’s arm. He took a deep breath as his body began to shiver. Rolling over, he peered at Air Force One as its wings disappeared from sight. Colonel Strom and Charlie entered the large raft just as the body of the plane submerged underwater. Eddie looked up at the sound of the helicopters as they approached through the low hanging cloud. There were three of them. They were nighthawks. The same ones used by the marines to ferry the president across the country from the White House lawn. He looked back at Air Force One, its nose just above the water, and thought about how surreal this moment would have been had it just been a regular news day. There was a burst of air bubbles as the last of the plane disappeared from sight. He looked back inside the life raft. All eyes were currently on Nora Stone.
“You’ll be executed for this,” said Holt, seated close to Royo.
Nora remained silent. She pulled her wet hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ears. Royo was next to speak.
“Now what?” he said to her bluntly.
Nora took a breath and looked at him.
“Tarsis will not be far behind, I can assure you, I’ll help you deal with him but you know what I want,” she said looking at him.
Eddie watched Holt to make sure he was calm. He glanced at Royo, who nodded.
“I’ll do what I can,” Royo replied..
There was a look of shock on Strom’s face. Eddie ignored it and watched Nora carefully.
“Give one of those helicopters to me and Eddie and we’ll go find him,” she said.
Royo looked over at him.
“Well?” Royo said.
Eddie thought about it for a moment and looked at Hiran.
“I need to take Hiran,” Eddie said.
“Eh…” Hiran suddenly said putting his hand up, “Hang on a second…” he began saying.
“You’re coming,” Eddie said, you still got those vials?”
Hiran nodded.
“What vials?” Nora replied.
“A little cocktail we had made specially for you,” Eddie said.
Nora frowned. Hiran sighed and looked at the sky and mouthed a curse word Eddie could not quite hear.
“I want to come with you,” said Holt suddenly.
“Oh?” Eddie said.
“You need back up,” Holt said turning to Royo. “Sir, he needs back up.”
Royo nodded to him.
“Ok, Todd,” Royo said.
Holt smiled at him.
“Don’t for one second think that this gets us out of our bet. You’ll owe me fifty bucks before this day is out,” Holt said.
Royo smiled and grabbed his arm slightly.
“We’ll see about that,” Royo replied.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
White House Situation Room
Vice President Eric Heller was in hell, eight aircraft down, Air Force One down, with no word from the crew. He felt his mind beginning to crack. President Adelise had hung up on him only a moment ago after saying something in French that Heller did not understand. There was no love there. They had met on several occasions throughout his career and her demeanour towards him had been one of indifference. She had not rated him much as a politician. He had watched helplessly as the satellite images of Air Force One skidding off the runway at Mattituck and into the sea had silenced the room. He was now looking on as the three marine helicopters hovered over what had looked like several people floating in life rafts. He knew that if the president was one of them than he was in serious trouble. Wise was nowhere to be found. He was gone. He had left simple instructions to Heller if they were ever to be discovered. The small cyanide pill he carried in a hidden compartment on his belt was to be used without a moment’s hesitation. He was not to divulge any information. Failure to comply would mean certain death to his family. He sat watching the rescue of the people in the life raft as the combat situation between the US and the French continued in the skies overhead. The RAF had stood down from attacking the French as they had not been given the weapons free order.
They had backed off and were holding a perimeter around the fight, presumably not knowing what to do. Heller had not taken any calls from the British Prime Minister despite multiple attempts to contact him, much to the bafflement of Admiral Fisher and Hammond who were frantically liaising with her own Rear Admirals trying to prepare for a full out naval confrontation.
A young officer turned to the table, his faced pressed against a phone.
“Sir, we have a report of a French fighter crash landing in New York city?” said the man.
Hammond looked up at the screens.
“Where?” he barked
The young officer tapped some commands into a computer interface on one of the screens. A red blip formed over an aerial map of New York.
“It looks like it’s landed on the Brooklyn Bridge Sir,” he said.
Heller watched as the satellite zoomed in on a trail of smoke running the length of the bridge. He could see the downed fighter and a trail of broken vehicles in its wake.
“Jesus Christ,” he said softly hoping nobody could hear.
Hammond did, turning and frowning at the Vice President’s reaction.
He began chewing the side of his mouth. He thought he heard Hammond say something to him but ignored it, looking on at the chaos unfolding on the screens in front of him. And then it came, his worst nightmare come true, a crackling sound, then a pilot’s voice.
“This is Moonlight, Delta One Three changing call sign to Marine One,” said the voice over the radio.
The room exploded into applause and cheers as the call sign that denoted the president was on board was announced. Heller’s right hand began to shake.
“Standby,” said the pilot’s voice.
There was silence.
“This is the president,” came Royo’s voice over the airways, “stand down all military action, I repeat, full retreat, that is an order. Eric are you there?”
Heller could feel his throat seize up. He lowered his hand to his belt and placed his finger inside the small hidden compartment and waited.
“Yes sir. You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice,” Heller said.
“Eric, I need you to put me through to Adelise. Is Director Wise there?” Royo said.
“No sir,” Heller said.
“Find him, and take him into custody. Hammond, you there?” Royo said.
“Yes sir,” Hammond responded.
“I want you to send the army in and lock down the Jaguar facilities, the enemy, my friends, is amongst us. I want you to shut down all Jaguar activities and take every member into custody. I am on my way back to Washington right now. Pull our birds back. This is an order.” Royo said.
“Yes sir,” Heller said frowning at the screen, “Sir, we have what appears to be a French fighter jet just downed on the Brooklyn Bridge.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Casualties?” Royo replied.
“Unknown, Mr President,” replied Heller, lost in a sea of his own panic.
“Divert necessary resources, but tell local law enforcement to keep their distance, we may be dealing with a very dangerous element. I have ordered a special forces team on route,” Royo said
Hammond turned to Heller and gave him a confused look.
“Sir?” Heller responded.
“Await further instructions, but seal off that area,” Royo said.
“Yes Sir,” Hammond responded on Heller’s behalf.
The line went dead.
Heller took a long awaited breath and looked at Hammond whose face was pale.
“General, you heard him. Get moving!” Heller said forcefully.
Was he safe? Had he been exposed?
“Get Adelise on the phone and let’s try and get out of this before it’
s too late,” Heller said to Malcolm Lewis who seemed to be staring into space.
CNN Washington Office Helipad
“I swear to God, Alex, you get me killed and I’ll never forgive you,” said Bess Carter as she threw the camera over her shoulder and stepped into the helicopter.
“Relax, we’re just gonna do one flyby, we sure it went down at Mattituck?” Alex said fastening his seatbelt.
“I’m sure. You’re sure you can fly this thing?” she said taking the seat beside him in the black Eurocopter EC135.
“They won’t let you get near the city, you know that right?” Bess said flicking her dreadlocks back and packing them under her blue wool hat.
She was a hippy, there was no doubt about that, but she was also the best field camerawoman in the business at only twenty-six years of age. She was daring, fearless, exactly what Alex needed. Alex was an accomplished pilot. He had started out his career as a traffic reporter over the streets and highways of Los Angeles. The chief had told him that he was taking his life in his hands and that the station would not take any responsibility for what he was about to attempt. He had to sign his life away before he had agreed to the stunt. Alex had to know, he needed to be close. Just one flyby before the military escorted them out of the airspace and arrested them, just enough to get an exclusive shot of the area. To see first-hand what was going on. He had to know.
“Last chance Bess, you sure you’re up for this?” Alex said flicking on the master switches.
Bess raised her dark eyebrows and smiled.
“Once more into the breech, dear friend,” she shouted raising her fist in the air.
Alex smiled and engaged the rotor blades.
“You sure it’s him?” said Hiran to Holt who had just received the call.
“We’re about to find out,” Holt replied.
The view from over the city was surreal. Eddie peered out of the window as he changed into a dry set of military overalls that he had taken from one of the compartments on board. He was extra careful about putting back on the armour that Gordon had provided him. It fitted neatly against his bare skin. He zipped up the camouflaged one piece over his body and rubbed his arms trying to get warm again. The water had been freezing. Nora, Hiran and Holt had done the same. They now looked like a team, albeit the most unlikely group of people someone could assemble to save the world. He thought again about Abigail and the psych evaluation session they had shared together. Wise had got to her. He thought about how blind he had been and felt stupid about not having intuited her real intentions. And, aside from that, he had lost another team member under his watch.
