Prologue
'Fucking PACS.'
That was about the only thing going through my head as I pulled the hood of my APECS jacket over my headset and tried to get comfortable. My name is Eric Broussard, Dedicated Crew Chief on the Rivet Joint airframe, and a Tech Sergeant in the Air Force with about ten years in service. Yet even after working and flying on these planes for a decade now I still can never get used to how cold these flight crews like to have the insides of these jets whenever we go somewhere. True the RC-135 is literally packed to the gills with sensors, processor racks and a plethora of other electronic goodies, and while it is also true that all those electronics produce a lot of heat when they're all up and running. I still didn't think that it had to be kept at icebox temperatures upstairs by running both air conditioning systems at full blast; effectively turning the fuselage compartment into the world's longest deep freeze.
This of course doesn't help me to get any amount of decent sleep as we continue on our ferry flight from our home station at Offutt AFB to our detachment in Japan. Currently we are flying somewhere over Alaska after stopping at Eielson AFB for some gas, which would mean that I usually would have taken some kind of sleep aid to help me get to sleep, but unfortunately the flight plan didn't call for any mid-air refuels so we were going to be stopping at Misawa to top off one more time before continuing on to our final destination. So that meant that I will only be able to grab a couple hours nap at best, before we arrived at our next destination. Now to me being a maintainer means that working long hours and getting little amounts of sleep was nothing new infact it came with the job, and I personally prided myself on being able to fall asleep pretty much anywhere on command yet this numbing cold wasn't going to make it very easy.
Rolling on the floor in front of the aft hatch I tried to get comfortable in my sleeping bag for what seemed like the umpteenth time, doing so I happened to catch a glimpse out of the hatch window and saw one of nature's most amazing natural wonders. Dancing high above the plane with its magnificent ethereal flames of greens and purples and blues was the magical fires of the Aurora Borealis, the northern lights. Being originally from the gulf coast of Texas I never got the opportunity to see such sights before in the night skies where I grew up, and to be able to get a chance to see sights such as this was one of the reasons that I had decided to join the Air Force almost as soon as I had graduated from high school. As I watched the particles burn up in the upper atmosphere I could almost forget the icy numbness coming from my toes and accept the welcoming embrace of slumber.
That is if it wasn't for that damn whistling noise that I was now hearing.
Rolling my eyes I let out a growl of irritation and dragged myself out of my bag making my way towards the offending noise. The whistling seemed to be coming from somewhere on the insulated wall in front of me but I couldn't pinpoint the exact location in the depths of shadows that surrounded the aft hatch. Reaching into my backpack I grabbed my flashlight and shined the bright light against the side if the fuselage, and by using my ears and sense of touch I began to search for the source of the rushing wind. After a few moments I was able to pinpoint the noise to the top of the aft hatch where the seal hadn't completely sealed against the bulkhead. This wasn't a big thing because I could see that it was only a small leak and didn't run any risk of possibly depressurizing the plane and could be easily fixed enough by adjusting the stops on the hatch. Unfortunately you couldn't adjust a hatch on a plane that was pressurized and currently flying several hundred miles per hour at thirty thousand feet.
Giving a sigh of frustration in knowing that I wouldn't be able to get rid of the noise until we landed at our next stop, which meant until then any chance of sleep would be hindered by the seemingly endless whistle of pressurized air as it left the aircraft. I began inspecting the hatch once more to ensure that it was still properly secured before I tried to go find somewhere else that was quieter to take a nap.
Just then the aircraft began to lurch violently as I heard the voice of the A/C ring through my headset, "Hey everyone, make sure you're in your seats and your buckles are fastened. Looks like we've hit a little rough patch of turbulence, but we should be out of it soon."
With that I turned off my flashlight and went to place it back in my backpack when the plane jumped hard again under my feet, making me lose my balance. Using my hand to steady myself I began to hear a slow moaning sound coming from the hatch behind me. The aluminum started to pop and creak eerily as I watched it in silent horror, unable to will my body into movement. I knew that I shouldn't be concerned, because the lip of the bulkhead made it almost impossible for the aft hatch to be sucked out, but that didn't mean that the bulkhead itself wasn't the piece failing. Then almost as soon as it had started the noise went away. I sat there waiting with baited breath for a moment as if to make sure that the danger had truly passed, but fate would not be so kind.
With one final explosive pop the hatch collapsed in on itself as it was simultaneously sucked out into the night sky along with myself. I tried to yell for help but was quickly silenced as my head came into contact with the bulkhead in my forced expulsion from the plane.
The last thing I could register as I watched the shadowy outline of my plane fly away and the inky blackness of unconsciousness consume me was the rushing of cold wind by my head, and the colors of the northern lights still flowing above me like the waves of some distant shore.