by C. J. Stott
Fred picked up his mic, “Roger. When we get a little closer. We’ll also check in once we’re established on the 9 ILS localizer.”
“100 do you want the emergency equipment standing by?”
Fred looked at Don, “Might as well. We pay for the service. ‘Tis time we collected.”
“Just tell ‘em we want the equipment standing by for us. No more.”
“Miami, sure, we’d love to have the equipment waiting for us.”
“Understand. 100. We’ll alert them.” Another new voice, a female controller said, “We have cleared the area for your arrival. We confirm you are cleared for an ILS approach to Runway 9. You are also cleared to land on Runway 9.” She paused, waiting for 100 to answer, “I will be your controller during your approach.”
Fred quickly looked on the back of the approach charts for Miami and said to Don, “Runway 9’s over 13,000 feet long.”
Don picked up his microphone, “Miami. Wind check.”
“Current wind is 100° at 9 knots.”
“Miami, any NOTAMs we need to know about for the TCA, terminal control area? Also, we have ATIS information TANGO.”
Stan insistently interrupted them. “Don, we’re losing the hydraulic fluid in system 4.” His voice rose, “That’s bad news.” Stan was diagnosing the system problem as he spoke, “Split Trailing Edge Flaps. And, we’ll be down to alternate braking.” Stan referred to the main hydraulic power source for the trailing edge flaps was losing fluid. This would also reduce the primary source of power for the 16 wheel main landing gear brakes.
Don responded instantly, “Stan, run the Hydraulic Fluid Loss checklist and have Fred back you up.”
Stan reached for the red bordered checklist, flipped the plastic sheet over and looked for the Hydraulic Fluid Loss procedure. A movement, a flicker of light caught his attention. Stan looked aft toward the Hydraulic Control Panel. Everything appeared to have returned to normal. No loss of fluid and no other discernible problems.
“That’s the damndest thing. The quantity just disappeared and then returned. When the quantity went down, we got low quantity and low pressure lights on the EDP.” Stan thought and said, “This is like the simulator. Blink and all the problems are resolved. Weird.”
Don answered Stan, “Well, keep an eye on it. Let me know if anything else goes wrong.”
Stan replaced the emergency checklist in the holder and hoped he would not need to use it again.
Chapter 84
21:50 Eastern Standard Time
129 miles North of Naples, Florida
Don looked back at the hijacker, who still held his pistol inaccurately aimed Carlton’s direction on the floor and aft bulkhead. Carlton either appeared to be asleep or to have lost consciousness. Clearly, he was dazed.
He spoke not only to the hijacker, but to everyone in the cockpit. “We’re on our way and should be on the ground in less than twenty minutes. No tricks. We only have about forty minutes of fuel left. We’re going to have to make this a good one. We have enough fuel to make one approach. That’s it. No second chances. I don’t want any trouble from you.”
Bill looked at the Captain. He didn’t know what to do. No plan. He thought, “There never was a plan. Things have turned to shit. Nothing was going my way. Nothing.
Don continued, “I want a Flight Attendant up here to help clean up this mess. I want Carlton moved away from the door.” He stared back at the hijacker, “Drag him to the side there.”
Bill didn’t want anyone else in the cockpit. He was confused and panicked. Once again, he had lost control of the situation. He was a loser “el eperdedor!”
Unexpectedly, he attempted to stand and immediately lost his balance. He lurched precariously to the right and forward. He steadied himself against the back of Stan’s seat. He stopped his fall with his right hand, the hand that held the pistol.
Bill’s hand and the pistol scribed an arc in Stan’s field of view. With explosive speed, Stan instinctively grabbed Bill’s wrist with his right hand. He twisted Bill’s arm and hand outward and down keeping the gun aimed away from himself. Bill was pulled off balance and Stan could feel the tendons in Bill’s arm strain as he twisted harder.
When he had proper leverage, he smashed the hijacker’s hand against the aft circuit breaker panel. He pounded Bill’s hand that held the gun and felt Bill’s warm and sticky blood as his hand was sliced on the ragged edges of the panel.
Bill screamed and swore in Spanish when two small bones in his right hand snapped, “Dios Presa de puta madre. Hijo de puta, esto dueleony.”
The tables had turned. Internal injuries caused the hijacker to drop his gun, his only salvation, the equalizer was now gone.
The gun clattered harmlessly on the top of Stan’s worktable, and dropped to the floor where it clanked against the aluminum slide mechanism on Stan’s chair. Miraculously, the gun did not discharge.
Stan strained to maintain control over the hijacker as he yelled, “Fred. Don. Goddamnit. Somebody help me.”
Fred undid his seatbelt and shoulder harness straps, turned and started out of his seat. Before he could take one step, Carlton was on his feet behind the hijacker and grabbed him around the neck with a surprisingly quick action. Carlton was much stronger than he looked.
Despite the beating he had taken, he was able to pull up and started to suffocate the hijacker. He gagged, swallowed and ineffectively clawed at Carlton’s hand and then gagged again. His breathing was a series of raspy, choking coughs. His eyes watered. He could not believe it. He was being choked by the Paloma. The fag, El Maricón was strangling him and more important, winning.
Carlton made a small, round, balled-up fist with his free hand. In a furious series of blows, pounded Bill’s head. Rage overtook Carlton as he continued to slam his fist into soft tissue, bone, cartilage and flesh. His only focus was pay back to the hijacker for the terror, embarrassment and humiliation he had inflicted on him.
The visceral animal strength Bill had relied on had left him. His attempts to thwart Carlton’s emotionally-driven attack ended. The hijacker’s weakening and futile attempts drove Carlton to pull harder. Bill could no longer see Stan, nor anything else. He was losing consciousness. A dark cone closed in front of him as his optic nerve became oxygen-starved. In what was his final resignation, Bill knew he was screwed. He realized it was over. He had failed. Again.
Carlton angrily uncurled his free hand and grabbed Bill’s face, just above his mouth and dug his fingers into his flesh. He wanted to tear the hijacker’s face apart. He wanted the hijacker to hurt, to bleed. Carlton wanted to kill him.
Stan continued to hold his wrist against the bloodied table. He could sense Bill’s resolve drift away as his resistance faded.
Stan instinctively knew the time was right. With his left hand, he reached up and smashed Bill in the face. His hand glanced off Carlton’s fingers, who squealed when he pulled his hand away. Stan swung again, this time he connected squarely and firmly. He felt the cartilage break in Bill’s nose. As quickly as it began, the fight was over. Bill collapsed against Carlton.
Chapter 85
22:00 Eastern Standard Time
North of Naples, Florida
Don had seen and heard most of the short fight. “Carlton, quickly. Without looking back at Carlton, Stan or the hijacker, he said, “Get the first aid kit.”
Carlton thought the Captain was crazy. This despicable person tried to kill him and now the Captain wanted the first aid kit. Carlton did not move, nor give any indication that he heard Don.
“Goddamnit, Carlton. Move!”
“Really, Captain. I don’t care if he just dies. I really don’t. I mean it would be fine with me if just died right here on the spot. Actually, I hope he does die, after all the terrible things he did to me.” Carlton started to whimper, “He hurt me and humiliated me. He embarrassed me in front of my passengers.”
“Carlton. Goddamnit. I don’t care about any of that. I want you to get the nylon zip-ti
es from the First Aid kit. We need to restrain the bastard ‘til we’ve landed.” While Don gave orders to Carlton, he continued to shift his attention between his instruments and the physical drama in the back of the cockpit.
Slowly, Carlton understood. He ungraciously let go of Bill and watched his head bounce off the Flight Engineer’s desk top. He retrieved the kit from the aft bulkhead. When he tried to open the kit, he broke a fingernail on the copper wire/lead seal. He stopped what he was doing, looked at his torn nail and cursed.
Stan watched Carlton with growing anticipation. “Jesus Christ. Hurry up. I don’t want this asshole to come around before we have him restrained.”
In an apologetic and contrite voice he said, “Sorry, Stan. I’ll get him out of your way.”
Carlton dragged the hijacker away from Stan. As soon as the support against him was removed, the hijacker slid down and collapsed on the floor. He lay on his back. Carlton noticed his captor had wet his pants. Stan got out of his seat and helped Carlton pull him away from the cockpit door, then dragged him toward the crew emergency exit escape hatch.
He and Carlton rummaged through the first aid kit until they found the bag of nylon zip-ties. Stan ripped open the package and grabbed several of the black handcuffs. They trussed Bill, left hand to right ankle and right hand to left ankle. For extra measure, Stan put one additional zip-tie across both wrists where they crossed below his knees.
Stan took three handcuffs and looped then together around the hijacker’s right arm and a piece of formed aluminum framework. While the hijacker might be able to move slightly, he could not get anywhere near the pilots or the flight controls.
Stan pressed past Carlton, who was looking at himself in the cockpit mirror, checking to see how badly his face had been damaged by the hijacker. Stan smirked and was astonished at Carlton’s obsession with his appearance.
Stan slid back into his seat and put on his shoulder harnesses and seatbelts. He noticed wet and drying blood on his panel, desktop, chair. The aft circuit breaker panel had torn pieces of Bill’s flesh stuck to the dark grey surface.
With a sigh of relief and a smile, Don turned and said over his right shoulder, “Stan, that was outstanding. Good show.”
“Thanks, Don.” He was still a little out of breath, but repeated himself. “Thanks.”
Fred added his input. “How did you know to do that? Where did you get the idea?”
“I don’t know, Fred. It was just sort of like before I went to ‘Nam. Back to basics from my Marine Corps training. You know, the old hand-to-hand stuff.”
Fred grinned, “Semper Fi, brother. Semper Fi.”
Don smiled again and said, “Well, I for one, am very glad you were on this trip. Both Fred and I owe you one.”
Carlton turned away from the mirror. “Captain, you did all the work. You saved my life and the lives of my passengers. You were wonderful. Maybe magnificent would be a better word.” He started to silently weep, sniffled and said, “I’m sorry. I am so embarrassed.”
Fred smiled, “Carlton, my man, you did an awesome, stupendous, outrageous job. You were unbelievable. You are a tiger. You beat the shit out of him. Bravo!”
Carlton was pleased and at the same time, embarrassed. “Thanks, Fred.” He paused, looked at all of them and said, “Well Captain, I’ll go below now and help the passengers.”
Don spoke reflexively, “No, Carlton, I want you to stay here and keep an eye on our hijacker. We are going to be busy and we don’t want him causing any trouble.” He quickly looked over his right shoulder. “Stan, do you have his firearm back there?”
Stan reached down to the floor and retrieved the pistol. “Yep. I’ve got it right here.” He unceremoniously set it down on his desk
Don turned around in his seat so he was facing Carlton and Stan, “Carlton, you sit in that extra jump seat and watch him. If he moves, you tell Stan.”
“Stan, if he tries to move or makes any trouble, I want you to shoot the son of a bitch. Dead. Got that?”
“Yes Sir!” A look of comprehension and satisfaction momentarily crossed Stan’s face.
The battered Flight Attendant slowly nodded that he also understood. However, his understanding did not diminish the residual fear in his eyes. He was very glad there were three other people in the cockpit who would deal with the hijacker if he tried anything.
“Alright, then. Enough of this. We’ve got work to do.”
Chapter 86
22:15 Eastern Standard Time
West of Naples, Florida
Don looked along the west coast of Florida and the lights of Naples as they slipped beneath the nose of the aircraft.
Don reached up and pressed the emergency cockpit call chimes. Almost immediately, there was a response, “Yes, this is Patti. Are you all alright?”
Don spoke with authority, “Thanks to Stan, we are terrific. We are going to Miami and should be on the ground in less than twenty minutes. I do not want any passengers to move. Period. Remember what I said, nobody moves. If you see anyone starting to get up, you have my permission to sit on them.”
Fred smiled and looked at Don. “Does that go for me too? I would sort of like it if Patti sat on me.”
Don ignored Fred and said, “Patti, I am going to make a PA announcement to the folks. I’ll remind them about moving around. In about ten minutes, I want all the passengers to brace for a crash landing. You know the drill. Sharp objects stowed, pillow over the head, head down, arms over the neck.”
Fred spoke, “Is this where you put your head between your knees and kiss your sweet ass good bye?”
Don allowed himself to chuckle then went on, “I’ll give you notification as to landing time. We will let you know ten minutes out, five minutes out and one minute from touchdown.”
“Right, Captain. We’ll take care of the cabin. How are all of you? We heard gun shots and then the aircraft started to flip over.”
Don handed the interphone handset to Fred. “Tell her what is going on here. Bring her up to date.”
The aircraft is reasonably sound. Carlton is okay, a little the worse for wear, but he’ll live to dance again.” Carlton grinned when he heard Fred’s comment to Patti.
Fred continued, “Stan took a rim shot to the side of the head, which has sort of spoiled his boyish good looks. The hijacker has been subdued and is lashed to the aircraft. We’re doing our best to get this piece of junk on the ground in one piece. Keep the faith and we’ll keep you posted.”
Chapter 87
22:20 Eastern Standard Time
85 Miles West of Miami, Florida
Patti and Amelio walked to the service center in the middle of the airplane. Amelio made a Public Address announcement, “Ladies and Gentlemen, This is your purser, Amelio Perez. The Captain has asked me to inform you about our plans. We are less than twenty minutes from Miami, Florida. As some of you know, one of our passengers wanted to go to Havana. He has been restrained and is no longer a problem.” Amelio heard a muted cheer from the cabin.
“Our Captain has also advised we are experiencing some difficulty with controlling the aircraft.” A hushed intake of collective breaths could be heard in the various sections of the airplane.
“Because of these problems, he has instructed us to tell you that every passenger must remain in their seat. No one can move about the cabin. The Captain said the balance of the airplane is critical. If anyone moves, it could throw our balance off. I needn’t tell you that we do not want that to happen.”
He waited a few seconds to let this information fully settle in before he continued speaking, “We are here to help you with this situation. We are very well trained to do this. But, we need your cooperation. No one is to move from their seat.
“Don’t worry about your belongings. There will be plenty of time to gather all of them later, after we land.
“We will be circulating though the cabin to help you prepare for landing in Miami. Please give the Flight Attendants in your cabin your full attenti
on. Thank you for your cooperation and assistance.”
Amelio and Patti gathered the rest of the cabin crew in the forward section of First Class to review the planned crash-landing procedures. Per company policy, the twelve attendants were divided into six teams. Each team of two was to circulate through their zone.
When two Attendants were in each zone, Amelio planned to make his ditching announcement, which he would read verbatim from an Emergency Red-Bordered laminated plastic card.
In less than two minutes, all of the cabin zones checked in.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Amelio Perez again. I want to instruct you in a practice exercise we are going to do, in preparation for our landing in Miami. As our Captain has said, we have had some problems with the aircraft. Because of these problems, we are going to do some things that you probably have never done before.
“First, you are going to take all the sharp objects out of your pockets. Objects like pens, pencils, combs, rulers and place them in the seat pouch in front of you. Please do that now.” The Flight Attendants heard passengers’ voices. While a few complained, most spoke with nervous anticipatory fear.
“Next, we are going to practice the impact position.” Another fearful murmur swept through the cabin when Amelio said ‘impact.’“
“Please give your attention to the Cabin Attendant at the front of your zone.”
He waited for the noise to settle throughout the aircraft. “First, place your hands behind your head and then clasp your fingers tightly behind your head.
“Next, when I say the word, ‘NOW!’ I want you to bend forward and place your elbows on your knees.”
Amelio looked through his part of the airplane interior and saw three flight attendants standing with their hands tightly clasped behind their heads.
“Alright, Ladies and Gentlemen. NOW!”
