I'll Be Home For Christmas
By Snakefire
Chapter One
Ryan Letourneau was in the middle of his shift. Air Traffic Control was a difficult and stressful job at the best of times, a job that involved talking, typing, and constantly trying to keep the blipping green dots that winked across his radar screen way the fuck away from each other. The ATC tower was usually pitch-dark at night, but at noon in December, it was bright and the weather was cloudy but dry. Thank god for small blessings.
"...Roger. Westjet 435, you are cleared for takeoff on runway 24-L, over." He said, switching away from the outgoing flight and turning his attention to the next plane on the stack- only to notice a new plane popping onto the edges of his radar, and flying at…8000 feet?
That...was really, really low. 'Unapproved flight level' low. That wasn't a standard approach path, meaning that whoever was flying this plane was completely flouting all of the myriad regulations set up around flying in restricted airspace. He flipped a switch, tuning in to talk to this new aircraft that was practically kissing the earth despite being miles from the airport.
"First Air Eight Six Zero, Montreal Approach. What is your approved flight level, over?"
Nothing. Radio static and silence.
"First Air Eight-Six-Zero, do you read, over?"
Nothing. No reply. The plane was worryingly low and getting closer and closer to one of the busiest airspaces in the country.
Why weren't the pilots responding?
"First Air Eight Six Zero, this is Montreal Tower. Come in please."
Nothing.
Ryan sat back in his chair. This…was not good.
There were a couple of reasons a plane went radio silent.
One: Broken radio. But they could probably set up a radio-relay with other pilots…
Ryan tapped a few buttons on his keyboard, looking at another nearby plane.
"Air Canada 167, Montreal tower. Can you radio First Air 860? I think his radio's broken or tuned to the wrong frequency or something."
"Roger that, Montreal Tower. Give us a sec."
A few seconds of silence followed, and Ryan bit his lip. Why were they flying so fucking low?
Then his earpiece crackled to life.
"Montreal Tower, this is Air Canada 167. Nothin'. We tried a couple times, I don't think anybody's home."
"I-That's copied. Thank you."
Ryan sat back in his chair and thought a bit.
A large plane flying low, straight towards Montreal.
Not responding to the radio.
Flight path looked…weird and wobbly. Like the pilot wasn't entirely sure what they were doing.
Ryan reached up on his panel and flipped a small protective case on top of a large red button and pressed it firmly, setting off an alert throughout the tower and sending a signal down miles and miles of wires to the appropriate authorities.
There was only one thing a non-responsive aircraft flying towards Montreal could possibly mean.
The aircraft had been hijacked.
And it was on a collision course with the city of over a million.
"Just in time for fuckin' Christmas…" Muttered Ryan, as he eyed the dot sailing low over Montreal.
A/N: A little Christmas story for you all! This one is going to be short on mindfuck and big on heroics. And also, just kind of short. The goal here is five chapters, the final one posted on Christmas Day/Eve. This one's super short, I'm sorry about that. More to come.
Merry Christmas!
Oh, and as always: If you liked it, leave a review! They keep me going and give me the fuel to keep writing.