Grumbling, the red-haired first officer fiddled with the idle controls, amusing himself by flipping switches. Not exactly a sporting nor an FAA approved past time.
"TRA 376, Tower? Does anyone know where the Captain is?" Groused the agitated Patrick Colasour. "Not to be rude, but we've been on the ground 25 minutes past takeoff. A mutiny is starting to look likely." The air traffic controller on the other end managed a chuckle.
"TRA 376, we've been told he's on his way. Sorry about the delay." She replied. Clearly, Anew Returner found this much more amusing than the young pilot. Patrick was still itching to fly lead.
"Tower, request standby permission to taxi and departure." He tried again, the notes of griping humorously present. Anew chuckled.
"Denied, 376. Don't worry, your Captain is here." She said. At this, Patrick threw his arms up, groaning.
"Sacré bleu!" He lamented. He was about to go on a new diatribe until the smell of cheap gin filled the cockpit. He wrinkled his nose as the Captain practically collapsed into the chair to the right of him. "You're late. Very late." Patrick said, clearly not pleased. The older man shrugged off the comment along with his rumpled suit jacket. Rubbing his eyes, he seemed less than stellar.
"Don't even start with me." Grumbled the Captain, one Ali Al-Saachez, as he struggled to get his headset on. His eyes appeared redder than Patrick's hair. His breath was pungent enough the flight engineer, Lasse Aeon, considered putting an oxygen mask on now, in case it got worse. Patrick rolled his eyes.
"At least you've kept all that ugly facial hair off off." The First Officer grumbled as he started the preflight sequences. Ali rolled his eyes, and after great struggle, finally got his headset properly alligned.
"Stow it, Frenchie." The clean shavened Captain ordered. "Now, let's get this thing up before the passengers rebel." He said. From his seat, Lasse found it amusing that the Captain could refer to a Boeing 747 as a 'thing'. Slurred speech not-withstanding, Ali managed to get things going. He cleared his throat and put on a very cheerful voice as he turned on the plane's PA system.
"Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to Trans Am International flight 376. First off, sorry about the delay, but the shuttle bus I was on suffered a flat tire in the middle of the freeway. But don't worry, we're all good to go now. As for introductions, I'm Captain Ali Al-Saachez, my First Officer is Patrick Colasour and the Flight Engineer is Lasse Aeon. Now, I've been flying for 12 years, so none of you have anything to worry about. Now, our flight time should be just under two hours, but, we'll see if we can't get you there a little bit faster. Again, thank you for choosing Trans Am and have a nice flight."
With a flick of his wrist, he turned off the PA system and let out a slight groan. He hated being peppy, especially when he was hungover. Pushing that out of his head, he was finally able to get down to work.
"TRA 376, Tower?" Ali called into his headset.
Still chuckling over all the bumbling, Anew managed to get instructions out. "TRA 376, clear to runway 44R. Taxi via Whiskey-3, Whiskey-5, Juliet-4." The young woman, said, trying not to laugh at the semi-bumbling flight crew.
"Roger, tower. We're going." Captain Saachez said. Secretly, he was very thankful it was night, for the sun and its bright rays played havoc with his constantly red and bloodshot eyes. Now his only distraction was the near blinding light of downtown Miami. As he tried to blink the red out of his eyes, he again yawned.
"We're going to… New Orleans, right?" He asked. Patrick rolled his eyes.
"Yes, Captain. We're going to New Orleans." Patrick confirmed, hiding his mild fright. With this, Ali nodded as he began the last of the pre-flight checks and finally got the massive jet going. Like he always insisted, Ali flew better when he was hungover. He cleared his throat as the jumbo jet turned onto the runway. He couldn't help it, he may have been 35, but he still loved the way the light lined up when placed against the night.
"You are cleared for takeoff." Anew's voice said over the Captain's headset. Ali rolled his head.
"This is TRA 376, Roger, cleared for takeoff on runway……44R." He said, adjusting the flaps and sending the plane forward and it was not long before the 747 and its colorful crew was on its way.
When 10,000 feet was achieved, Saachez let out a long sigh, which resulted in the cockpit yet again becoming a chamber for his rancid breath, Patrick skillfully hid a grimace.
"Long night, sir?" Flight Engineer Lasse inquired, knowing that simply keeping Captain Saachez talking would probably keep him awake.
"I guess." He said, rubbing his eyes. "Flying back to back has lost its appeal. Had to pick up one of Mason's routes. He's got the flu or scabies or something." The older man grumbled, checking various gauges as he voiced his complaints, which he continued to rattle off even though he knew that his crew had long stopped listening.
Though the drama in the cockpit was by far the most entertaining, almost equally amusing were the noble efforts of the flight attendants, doing their very best to meet every need of every passenger and do it with a smile. It was enough to make Saji Crossroad want to eat his own hair. He had to get a blanket to a bulimic fashion model because she was cold, and pillow to an overweight salesman because his back didn't have enough support and get food and beverages to everyone…except the bulimic fashion model.
"Come on, Saji." Came her voice, always cheerful. "We're almost done for now." She said. At this, Saji smiled.
"I know, Lousie, I know." He chuckled as the blonde appeared to float in her every movement. It was enough to make Saji believe she was either A) an alien or B) Zoloft enabled. He shook his head with a laugh as he wrangled with the beverage and snack cart. With cat like grace, he pushed the cart up and down the various aisles of the various sections, distributing meals, drinks and whatever else was one the cart. To the untrained eye, this may have seemed menial, but in the world of stewards and stewardesses, Saji and Louise were King and Queen.
As he collapsed back into his chair, Louise continued laughing.
"Oh, you're just so cute in that apron, Saji." She said, tittering. "Like you should have your own cooking show." She continued, her laughter spreading over to Saji. The young man shook his head and had finally relaxed when yet another light came on, signaling that yet another passenger needed something. Saji rose first.
"I got this one, Louise. Why don't you make us something to eat?" He asked. Louise nodded, still cheery.
xxx
Picking up the ringing phone in the cockpit, Lasse Aeon received the news, blinked a few times before speaking.
"Ummm…. Understood." He finally said.
"What is it?" First Officer Colasour inquired. Lasse stood still, appearing deep in thought; Patrick arched an eyebrow, curious at Lasse's impression of being frozen. He finally snapped out of it with a shake of his head.
"We're… being hijacked, apparently." Lasse said, in a factual tone that made it sound like this was a common occurrence. Patrick gulped hard, worried that this, more than anything, would keep him from his date with his beloved Kati Mannequin.
In the Captain's chair, Ali remained slightly emotionless, trying to sort out why God would assign this unenviable position to him. With a disgruntled sigh, he put his headset back on.
"Frenchie, what's the closest airport?" He asked. Colasour immediately pulled a map out and scanned it.
"Hartsfield-Jackson in Atlanta" He said. Saachez knitted his brow and finally spoke into the microphone end of his headset.
"Come in Hartsfield Control, this is TRA 376." He spoke, voice still calm. Thousands of feet below, air traffic controller Billy Katagiri quickly put down his chocolate doughnut and answered.
"TRA 376, this is Hartsfield Control, Any problems?" Katagiri asked, still surprised to hear the call. Saachez cleared his throat.
"Hartsfield, The Heat Is On In Saigon, repeat, The Heat Is On In Saigon." The Captain spoke evenly. At his post, Katagiri froze but finally found the strength to push a small red button on the far right of his keyboard
"Understood, 376. Your situation is confirmed and actions are being taken. What information do you have?"
Ali turned back to face Lasse and said, "What do we know?" Lasse blinked.
"Two people. Screaming about something. They're threatening to blow the plane up if we don't land where they say." He explained.
"And where is they want to land?" Patrick asked.
"They haven't said yet." Lasse said, causing Ali to groan.
"Dammit, they don't even know what they're going to do yet." He groaned and took a sip from a bottle of orange juice. "Hartsfield Control, this is 376. We have two suspects on board, Flight Engineer has ascertained they have no plan and are going by ear. They are threatening use of an unconfirmed explosive device."
"Roger, 376. Understood." Katagiri said, wondering how this was going to resolve. "…376…do you know anything else?"
"Sorry, control." Ali said. "We're clueless." The cockpit crew let out a collective breath, still unsure of what was going to happen. The Captain finally let out a surprising laugh. "God, this is like a sick version of that Billy Joel song." Patrick, still in slight shock played along.
"Which one, Sir?"
"Goodnight Saigon." Ali explained. "You know, that chorus part. And we would all go down together. We said we'd all go down together. Yes, we would all go down together." He finished, leaving his First Officer and Flight Engineer ever so slightly horrified.