I spent the whole flight back wondering if I had made the right decision, and trying to think of any way to figure out for sure whether there had been a leak or not. I thought about testing it out with fuel transfers, trying to figure it out from the trim values, but came up with nothing. Nothing useful, at least.
Mikey had opened the fuel crossfeed valve as soon as we turned back, to keep engine number 3 running (since the tank that fed it was now supposedly empty). Maybe shutting it off would give us our answer. I told Mikey about my idea, since communication is pretty key in situations like this. It wasn't exactly a risk-free plan:
If my hunch was right, then number 3 would keep running as normal, and prove that there was never a leak at all. If I was wrong, then we really had a leak and even worse, would be stuck with a dead engine, as number 3's already tricky to start on the ground, not to mention at 20,000 ft.
"So, what do you say?" I asked Mikey.
He seemed to pause for a second to think it over.
"It's definitely risky… if 3 doesn't come back on, we're gonna be burning a lot more fuel. Do you think we'd have enough to make it back?"
"I can't promise we will… Bucky, what do you figure?" The question was more suited to our navigator.
"On 4 engines, we should have enough. But on 3? Uh… if the wind helps, maybe? but we'd be cutting it pretty close." Bucky answered. "I'm not sure it's the best idea."
There was a silence for a bit. A lot was at stake, and we needed to weigh our odds very carefully. Mikey was the first to speak up:
"I'm willing to try it, if you think it's a good idea, sir." Great, everyone's fate rest is in my hands… shit
I gave Mikey the signal, and he turned the crossfeed handle into the 'off' position, also changing the settings on the fuel selectors on the overhead panel. I kept my eyes on the fuel flow indicators, and Mikey took care of the fuel gauge, to see if there was any change.
Time seemed to slow down as we sat there. I was once again very aware of the ticking of my wristwatch, and covered it with my sleeve to make it quieter. It didn't really seem to work. Tick-tock, tick-tock, every second bringing us closer to the moment of truth.
...What the FUCK am I doing? Am I really risking all of this just based on a hunch? FUCK, that engine is definitely going to die. And when it does, we'll burn up all the fuel even faster, and we'll probably have to ditch at sea. And if we somehow live through that, that's still days on a tiny raft, with a chance of never being found, just because I thought we 'probably didn't have a leak'. Shit, the engine just shuddered! FUCK, this is it, I reach for the fuel crossfeed controls and turn them back before the engine dies.
"What are you doing!?" Mikey asked.
"Saving us from myself!" I was finally able to answer, as I sank back into my chair, heart still beating rapidly. Fuck it, we'll figure it out after we land.