Chapter 3
Within fifteen minutes, a USAF jet contacted the stricken passenger flight. "Zenith Airlines flight 8-0-2 this is Flight Captain James Harding." The metallic transmission brought a wave of relief and the first real smile to Steve's face since their ordeal had begun.
"This is Zenith 8-0-2. Go ahead Captain," said Frank with an authoritative air that further quelled Steve's nerves.
Between the two pilots, plans were made to convey the shipment of antibiotics in mid-air. The welcomed look of relief was short lived and was soon replaced by one of astonishment as the enormity of what they were about to attempt sunk into the 'acting' co-pilot.
"You are joking aren't you?" Steve asked Frank once the transmission had ceased.
"No," he replied bluntly. "The flight crew are all ill. Their only source of medical help is your father, and he can't do much without those drugs. So we have to do this - OK?"
Reluctantly, Steve agreed. Captain Burnett instructed the cabin staff to initiate the emergency protocols and lit the 'Fasten your seatbelts' sign. In a calm voice, the former passenger made his announcement over the tannoy system.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Frank Burnett," The passengers chatter died down as they listened to the calming voice convey the details of the crisis the flight had been experiencing over the past few hours. On the whole, there was very little panic from the announcement, a couple of women screamed and one man ordered a very large whiskey.
With all the safety preparations made, it was now time for Frank and Steve to play their part in the rescue of flight 802.
"Disengage auto-pilot." Steve complied. "Reduce altitude to 10,000ft" instructed Frank.
As the plane descended Steve called out the reading from the altimeter "20,000.18,000.16,000." The angle of decent eased as they reached their optimum height. "12,000.11,500.11,000.10,500.10,000ft" The plane levelled off smoothly with the USAF jet adjacent to their port wing. Everything was in place, a final warning was issued to the passengers before the port side hatch was unfastened and swung back into the cabin. Papers, magazines, napkins and other lightweight objects whistled about the fuselage as the change in air pressure and influx of air whipped up the flight's contents like a blender.
The cockpit instrumentation flashed and bleeped and the previously easy handling of the flight 'stick' had changed to a wrestling match. Frank held fast and with Steve's help the pair of them managed to steady the plane through the turbulent decompression.
A safety line was attached around Sally's waist and secured to a solid piece of the aircraft as she waited for the air transfer to commence.
A line, with a securely fastened case, slowly drifted back from the US air force jet that was towing it like a child trying to encourage his first kite to fly.
Suddenly, the airliner encountered a patch of turbulence. Steve and Frank, caught slightly off guard, struggled with the controls to bring the plane back under control. The plane jerked violently causing Sally to lose her footing. The young air steward slipped perilously towards oblivion, saved only by the rope around her waist and the doctor she had grown to respect and admire. Mark, together with one of the male passengers helped Sally safely back within the plane to wait the oncoming supply of much needed medicine. She began breathing heavily and as she tried to regain her breath she became aware of a searing pain in her chest, but was reluctant to show those around her knowing how much everyone depended upon her success.
The medicine case flagged closer and closer, bumping the exterior of the fuselage. Mark flinched involuntarily with each strike praying that its contents were safe. At last the case was within Sally's grasp. Swiftly she snatched it and hauled it inside the airliner before releasing the winch cable that had despatched their lifeline.
The hatch door is closed and for the first time Sally showed just how much pain she was in as she handed Mark the case.
"Sally?" Mark asked concerned. "Let me have a look at you."
"Give the others the medicine, I'll be fine," she replied.
"You're not fine, c'mon," the doctor helped the plucky stewardess to a seat. "You've cracked a couple of ribs. Stay there and I'll strap them for you after I've given these injections."
Sally nodded without objection. It hurt too much to argue anyway.
With the hatch now secure, Frank instructed Steve to climb back up to 26,000ft and continue on to their destination - London.
*****
Mark prepared the vaccine and began administering to his patients. With only twelve minutes until they arrive at London it was obvious that neither the captain nor the co-pilot were going to be in any sort of condition to land the plane. Mark broke the news to Steve.
*****
"London Tower, this is Flight 802, come in please." Again Frank repeated his request.
"Go ahead Flight 8-0-2," crackled the communications system.
"The vaccine has been administered and Dr Sloan assures me that everyone will survive, but.the flight crew will not be able to land the plane - we will have to."
"Received. We will have emergency vehicles standing by. Make your approach on runway 9."
"Confirmed - runway 9. Thank you Tower," Frank's conversation with the Tower didn't exactly instil confidence in Steve, but the detective knew that there was no other choice. "Are you ready?" asked Frank.
Steve took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, ready as I'll ever be!"
"Can you see the landing strips ahead?"
"Yes - but there are several. Which is number 9?"
"It works like a clock face, with north being twelve."
Steve checked the compass before adjusting the planes position so the runway was directly in his path. "OK, runway 9 is ahead."
"Reduce altitude to 10,00ft and speed to 600 knots." Steve complied reading the dials aloud until they reached the required settings. Frank fumbled with the flaps setting them in preparation for landing. "OK, somewhere around here should be a button that sets the undercarriage - press it." Steve scanned the instrument panel, located the switch and pressed it as instructed. The blind instructor acknowledged the subtle whirr as the hydraulics were deployed. "Good!" Then into his radio, "London Tower, we are about to commence landing procedures."
"Received Zenith 8-0-2 and good luck!"
Frank looked in Steve's direction "Approach the runway straight on. Reduce height to 3,000ft and from 2 miles reduce air speed to 200 knots."
Silent tension emanated from the flight deck as Steve began the arduous decent. Even the passengers echoed a hushed quiet with just one or two people offering up a whispered prayer.
Frank helped with steadying the controls so as the approach was not too steep. Steve read the dials aloud whilst Frank offered gentle praise and instruction. The landing lights on the runway helped the detective line the plane to land.
The next few moments, as far as Steve was concerned, were a blur. The screech of rubber making contact with the British tarmac brought time back to the present, with a bump, allowing the two impromptu pilots to breath a heavy sigh of relief as the brakes were applied bringing Flight 802 to an end.
Steve just sat for a moment, totally oblivious to the scurrying emergency crews on the ground. Medical officers in sealed canary yellow 'hazmat' suits entered the plane first, whilst the senior health official received a full debriefing from Mark. The most serious cases, including the captain and co-pilot were escorted to hospital in the awaiting ambulances whilst the remainder of the passengers and crew were inoculated and allowed to continue on their way unimpeded.
Frank congratulated his co-pilot on making such a smooth landing and quipped that Steve had passed the airborne initiation. "Next time I need a co-pilot, I'll give you a call!"
Steve slowly looked up and chuckled as he realised the blind man at his side was just kidding. "Thanks Frank - but next time I think I'll sail!!"
"OK, but keep an eye out for icebergs!"
Frank Burnett patted Steve on the left shoulder and left the cockpit leaving the detective to sit in awe of the events of the previous few hours alone. Suddenly, he snapped out of his trance as he remembered his father. "Dad.dad?" he called as he anxiously searched along the length of the plane. A stranger in a yellow anti-contamination suit barred his way as Steve spotted his father. Again Steve called out "Dad."
"I'm sorry sir," replied the official blocking his way. "You have to be tested before I can let you pass."
"It's OK Steve, they are just doing their job," came his father's reassuring words. Steve calmed down and accepted his place in the queue of people waiting to receive their antibiotic shots. Steadily, the number of passengers and crew dwindled until there were only Frank, Sally, Steve and Mark left unvaccinated. Mark drew a syringe and swiftly pierced the arm of the blind pilot. "I can't thank you enough for what you did today," praised the white haired physician. "Without your help, I'm certain that there would have been a lot more fatalities."
"Hey," smiled Frank modestly. "It was your son who did all the hard work. I was just the instruction manual!"
"Yeah," chimed in Steve. "Well I just wish the instruction manual on my VCR was as easy as that! You don't know how to set the VCR too do you?" he continued with a jovial tone.
"Uh-uh, now there you've go me!" laughed Frank. The group of them joined in the laughter.
"Steve," called Sally before they disembarked the plane. "Call me," her lustrous smile and hazel eyes promised to rid Steve of his unenvious self- proclaimed title 'the unluckiest bachelor in LA', but no one said anything about London!!
*****
A black London taxi took both Mark and Steve to their hotel. "What do you say we take the ferry back?" asked Steve whilst the pair of them waited to see the checking in clerk.
"Good idea," remarked his father with a smirk.
As they moved closer to the reception desk, a man in obvious distress rushed up and asked, "Is there a doctor in the hotel?"
Mark and Steve looked at each other, exchanged glances and before the detective could say a word, Mark offered his services leaving his son surrounded by a multitude of cases.
"Oh no - here we go again!" exclaimed Steve with a definite air of resignation.
The End.
22.02.03
Within fifteen minutes, a USAF jet contacted the stricken passenger flight. "Zenith Airlines flight 8-0-2 this is Flight Captain James Harding." The metallic transmission brought a wave of relief and the first real smile to Steve's face since their ordeal had begun.
"This is Zenith 8-0-2. Go ahead Captain," said Frank with an authoritative air that further quelled Steve's nerves.
Between the two pilots, plans were made to convey the shipment of antibiotics in mid-air. The welcomed look of relief was short lived and was soon replaced by one of astonishment as the enormity of what they were about to attempt sunk into the 'acting' co-pilot.
"You are joking aren't you?" Steve asked Frank once the transmission had ceased.
"No," he replied bluntly. "The flight crew are all ill. Their only source of medical help is your father, and he can't do much without those drugs. So we have to do this - OK?"
Reluctantly, Steve agreed. Captain Burnett instructed the cabin staff to initiate the emergency protocols and lit the 'Fasten your seatbelts' sign. In a calm voice, the former passenger made his announcement over the tannoy system.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Frank Burnett," The passengers chatter died down as they listened to the calming voice convey the details of the crisis the flight had been experiencing over the past few hours. On the whole, there was very little panic from the announcement, a couple of women screamed and one man ordered a very large whiskey.
With all the safety preparations made, it was now time for Frank and Steve to play their part in the rescue of flight 802.
"Disengage auto-pilot." Steve complied. "Reduce altitude to 10,000ft" instructed Frank.
As the plane descended Steve called out the reading from the altimeter "20,000.18,000.16,000." The angle of decent eased as they reached their optimum height. "12,000.11,500.11,000.10,500.10,000ft" The plane levelled off smoothly with the USAF jet adjacent to their port wing. Everything was in place, a final warning was issued to the passengers before the port side hatch was unfastened and swung back into the cabin. Papers, magazines, napkins and other lightweight objects whistled about the fuselage as the change in air pressure and influx of air whipped up the flight's contents like a blender.
The cockpit instrumentation flashed and bleeped and the previously easy handling of the flight 'stick' had changed to a wrestling match. Frank held fast and with Steve's help the pair of them managed to steady the plane through the turbulent decompression.
A safety line was attached around Sally's waist and secured to a solid piece of the aircraft as she waited for the air transfer to commence.
A line, with a securely fastened case, slowly drifted back from the US air force jet that was towing it like a child trying to encourage his first kite to fly.
Suddenly, the airliner encountered a patch of turbulence. Steve and Frank, caught slightly off guard, struggled with the controls to bring the plane back under control. The plane jerked violently causing Sally to lose her footing. The young air steward slipped perilously towards oblivion, saved only by the rope around her waist and the doctor she had grown to respect and admire. Mark, together with one of the male passengers helped Sally safely back within the plane to wait the oncoming supply of much needed medicine. She began breathing heavily and as she tried to regain her breath she became aware of a searing pain in her chest, but was reluctant to show those around her knowing how much everyone depended upon her success.
The medicine case flagged closer and closer, bumping the exterior of the fuselage. Mark flinched involuntarily with each strike praying that its contents were safe. At last the case was within Sally's grasp. Swiftly she snatched it and hauled it inside the airliner before releasing the winch cable that had despatched their lifeline.
The hatch door is closed and for the first time Sally showed just how much pain she was in as she handed Mark the case.
"Sally?" Mark asked concerned. "Let me have a look at you."
"Give the others the medicine, I'll be fine," she replied.
"You're not fine, c'mon," the doctor helped the plucky stewardess to a seat. "You've cracked a couple of ribs. Stay there and I'll strap them for you after I've given these injections."
Sally nodded without objection. It hurt too much to argue anyway.
With the hatch now secure, Frank instructed Steve to climb back up to 26,000ft and continue on to their destination - London.
*****
Mark prepared the vaccine and began administering to his patients. With only twelve minutes until they arrive at London it was obvious that neither the captain nor the co-pilot were going to be in any sort of condition to land the plane. Mark broke the news to Steve.
*****
"London Tower, this is Flight 802, come in please." Again Frank repeated his request.
"Go ahead Flight 8-0-2," crackled the communications system.
"The vaccine has been administered and Dr Sloan assures me that everyone will survive, but.the flight crew will not be able to land the plane - we will have to."
"Received. We will have emergency vehicles standing by. Make your approach on runway 9."
"Confirmed - runway 9. Thank you Tower," Frank's conversation with the Tower didn't exactly instil confidence in Steve, but the detective knew that there was no other choice. "Are you ready?" asked Frank.
Steve took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, ready as I'll ever be!"
"Can you see the landing strips ahead?"
"Yes - but there are several. Which is number 9?"
"It works like a clock face, with north being twelve."
Steve checked the compass before adjusting the planes position so the runway was directly in his path. "OK, runway 9 is ahead."
"Reduce altitude to 10,00ft and speed to 600 knots." Steve complied reading the dials aloud until they reached the required settings. Frank fumbled with the flaps setting them in preparation for landing. "OK, somewhere around here should be a button that sets the undercarriage - press it." Steve scanned the instrument panel, located the switch and pressed it as instructed. The blind instructor acknowledged the subtle whirr as the hydraulics were deployed. "Good!" Then into his radio, "London Tower, we are about to commence landing procedures."
"Received Zenith 8-0-2 and good luck!"
Frank looked in Steve's direction "Approach the runway straight on. Reduce height to 3,000ft and from 2 miles reduce air speed to 200 knots."
Silent tension emanated from the flight deck as Steve began the arduous decent. Even the passengers echoed a hushed quiet with just one or two people offering up a whispered prayer.
Frank helped with steadying the controls so as the approach was not too steep. Steve read the dials aloud whilst Frank offered gentle praise and instruction. The landing lights on the runway helped the detective line the plane to land.
The next few moments, as far as Steve was concerned, were a blur. The screech of rubber making contact with the British tarmac brought time back to the present, with a bump, allowing the two impromptu pilots to breath a heavy sigh of relief as the brakes were applied bringing Flight 802 to an end.
Steve just sat for a moment, totally oblivious to the scurrying emergency crews on the ground. Medical officers in sealed canary yellow 'hazmat' suits entered the plane first, whilst the senior health official received a full debriefing from Mark. The most serious cases, including the captain and co-pilot were escorted to hospital in the awaiting ambulances whilst the remainder of the passengers and crew were inoculated and allowed to continue on their way unimpeded.
Frank congratulated his co-pilot on making such a smooth landing and quipped that Steve had passed the airborne initiation. "Next time I need a co-pilot, I'll give you a call!"
Steve slowly looked up and chuckled as he realised the blind man at his side was just kidding. "Thanks Frank - but next time I think I'll sail!!"
"OK, but keep an eye out for icebergs!"
Frank Burnett patted Steve on the left shoulder and left the cockpit leaving the detective to sit in awe of the events of the previous few hours alone. Suddenly, he snapped out of his trance as he remembered his father. "Dad.dad?" he called as he anxiously searched along the length of the plane. A stranger in a yellow anti-contamination suit barred his way as Steve spotted his father. Again Steve called out "Dad."
"I'm sorry sir," replied the official blocking his way. "You have to be tested before I can let you pass."
"It's OK Steve, they are just doing their job," came his father's reassuring words. Steve calmed down and accepted his place in the queue of people waiting to receive their antibiotic shots. Steadily, the number of passengers and crew dwindled until there were only Frank, Sally, Steve and Mark left unvaccinated. Mark drew a syringe and swiftly pierced the arm of the blind pilot. "I can't thank you enough for what you did today," praised the white haired physician. "Without your help, I'm certain that there would have been a lot more fatalities."
"Hey," smiled Frank modestly. "It was your son who did all the hard work. I was just the instruction manual!"
"Yeah," chimed in Steve. "Well I just wish the instruction manual on my VCR was as easy as that! You don't know how to set the VCR too do you?" he continued with a jovial tone.
"Uh-uh, now there you've go me!" laughed Frank. The group of them joined in the laughter.
"Steve," called Sally before they disembarked the plane. "Call me," her lustrous smile and hazel eyes promised to rid Steve of his unenvious self- proclaimed title 'the unluckiest bachelor in LA', but no one said anything about London!!
*****
A black London taxi took both Mark and Steve to their hotel. "What do you say we take the ferry back?" asked Steve whilst the pair of them waited to see the checking in clerk.
"Good idea," remarked his father with a smirk.
As they moved closer to the reception desk, a man in obvious distress rushed up and asked, "Is there a doctor in the hotel?"
Mark and Steve looked at each other, exchanged glances and before the detective could say a word, Mark offered his services leaving his son surrounded by a multitude of cases.
"Oh no - here we go again!" exclaimed Steve with a definite air of resignation.
The End.
22.02.03