Chapter Three – Friends and Foes

"Stall warning!" Peter O'Neill voiced loud and clear behind him.

"I hear it!" he replied.

"Vibrations on the yoke," Joe stated.

"You think I can't feel it?" he questioned in disbelief.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Joe grabbing for the microphone, shouting into it for the passengers to brace for the impact. He desperately hoped that Isabelle was safely seated as the aircraft hit the ground and began to glide, horrendously fast, down the sloping mountain. The grip around the yoke was so hard that his fingers turned white but he didn't realize it, the only thing he was aware of was the ache in his already battered shoulders and collarbones when the seatbelt snapped tight, keeping him from bumping into the ceiling.

Automatically he shut down the engines and followed every procedure there was to follow, not that the brakes would actually make any difference since the wheels was probably long gone but it felt good to try and use them. He saw nothing but snow, wondering with increasing concern how long before the trees would effectively stop the aircraft from its run. There was a foreboding creak coming from the window before him and he narrowed his eyes as he saw a faint tear in the glass. Without thinking much about it he hastily let go of the yoke and flung his arms around his head in an effort to prevent the snow from hitting his face. He gasped as the cold and damp snow assaulted his upper body together with the remains of the broken windscreen. It felt like running into a wall and fall into a frozen lake all at once. It kept coming at him, he didn't know how much more he could take; he had to get out of there-

Captain Paul Metrand woke up gasping for breath, entangled in several layers of blankets. For a moment he didn't know where he was or what he was doing. He focused on slowing his breathing and calm himself down. His eyes trailed an IV line that had been attached to his arm but was now dangling from the pole next to his bed. He could just barely make out the droplets of blood on his arm in the faint light coming from the large single window. He let his head sink back into the comfortable pillow and stared at the white ceiling. He felt sore, lethargic, and awfully tired but he couldn't bring himself to sleep again. Instead he slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed and took a moment to gather himself before he rose unsteadily to his feet.

Paul reached for a light robe, pulled it over his bruised body and headed toward the window, halfway across the room he heard a woman sob. Curiously he walked toward the door instead of the window and glanced out in the corridor. At the end of it, next to a large window overlooking the ski resort, stood a lonely figure, slightly hunched forward, her body shivering.

"Isabelle?" he asked softly as he made it out of his room and out in the corridor, quickly closing the small distance to the woman.

Isabelle Delé straightened at the sound of his voice and hesitated before turning around to face him. A single tear escaped her eye as he came to stand opposite her. She nestled her arms around him and clung to him, resting her head on his shoulder before giving in to her sobs once again.

Paul tightened his grip around her. "Isabelle," he said softly to the seemingly inconsolable woman. "Isabelle," he repeated, this time his voice was no more than a whisper.

Slowly she tilted her head upwards to look at him. "We could have died, Paul," she whispered. "I dreamt you died, I couldn't sleep. I've been staring at the wreck- " she trailed off as he placed a finger on her soft lips.

"It's all right," he said reassuringly as he held her tight.

"I didn't want to wake you. They told me you were sick. I was worried-" she whispered as she took a moment to study his pale face. "Your skin is clammy. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Isabelle, please stop," he begged softly. "You're trembling. Come and sit down with me."

Paul gently led her to the nearby armchair, sat down and beckoned for her to sit in his lap.

Too devastated and weary to argue Isabelle did as he suggested and then leaned into him to let his touch calm her down. "I never answered before. I never said I love you," she said regretfully. "I do love you. I just- when you left and everything. Then you came back." She tilted her head to look him in the eye. "I think I've always loved you, ever since I first saw you."

OOOOOO

Heidi rubbed her tired eyes as she wearily made her way up the staircase to the top floor. It had been a long and tiring day. Not even in her wildest dreams had she imagined that a supersonic airliner would crash outside their house. She shivered as she thought about it. She had, like the rest of the staff of the practice, been forewarned and been able to prepare for it, unlike the tourists outside who only knew that they were no longer allowed to ski but not why.

She had been standing at the reception in the pharmacy section at the ground floor when she'd heard their junior doctor shout excitedly from the outside. Franz appeared in the doorway the second later and together they had walked out to stand beside their colleagues just in time to see the sleek supersonic jet make a long, slow turn for the makeshift runway marked by the rescue workers.

The aircraft was shaking violently, there were holes underneath the cabin and the sound of her engines echoed off the mountains, forcing Heidi to cover her ears. The jetliner then hit the ground, creating an eerie silence that was broken only by the scraping of metal against the ground, and descended rapidly down the slope, plowing through the snow.

Heidi remembered the sick feeling to her stomach, afraid that she was watching the death of over hundred people, yet she had been standing transfixed, unable to move. "My goodness, Franz, what if they don't make it," she had whispered in horror.

Heidi stopped to gather herself at the second floor and frowned as she saw two people at the end of the corridor, sitting in an armchair by the window. Intrigued and a little worried she tiptoed toward them in the semi-darkness. As she neared she could make out the young flight attendant that she'd taken care of earlier and the French captain. The woman was sitting in the man's lap, leaning into his chest, her fingers curled around the fabric of his gown. She was sleeping worriedly and Heidi could see that she'd been crying. The captain had his arms around the woman whose name she remembered to be Isabelle.

Heidi jumped slightly as the man tilted his head slightly to look at her. It was dull and tired blue eyes that locked with hers but, somehow, they seemed at peace and it was strangely comforting. She wore a smile but said nothing as she neared them, afraid to wake the sleeping woman. She reached out to gently touch the captain's forehead and pursed her lips into a thin line of displeasure at the clammy skin beneath her fingertips.

"You are cold," she mouthed.

He looked almost amused as he nodded, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips. "I will be fine," he mouthed back.

Heidi was about to tell him to go back to bed when the flight attendant spoke up, seemingly unaware of the nurse's presence.

"Paul," she whispered with an anxious undertone.

"I'm right here, Isabelle," he said softly. "Go back to sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

Heidi was torn, the captain needed to keep warm and go back to sleep but the woman in his arms needed him too. With a warm and genuine smile she retreated and left them alone, deciding that the flight attendant's needs outweighed anything else at the moment. However, she would see to it that he rested and kept warm in the morning.

OOOOOO

Maggie Whelan's head was spinning as the Federation World Airlines' Boeing 757 touched down at Dulles International Airport in Washington in the late afternoon, local time. The secret documents in her portfolio delivered to her by the former employee at Harrison Industries had shown a side of Kevin Harrison that she didn't like, that she couldn't even begin to imagine. A shady side, a ruthlessness that chilled her to the bone. She held in her hands information that people had died for, that perhaps even more people would die for. The information would ruin the company that Kevin had built up, damage his reputation and worse; if he was the real mastermind he would be brought to justice and sent to prison for his actions.

For the first time in her life she was afraid of Kevin Harrison, afraid of what he could do. In a daze she got out of her seat and headed for the exit of the aircraft, she forced a smile at the kind flight attendant as she went off and walked into the terminal.

"Maggie!" Lennie Daniels hollered and quickly closed the distance between them.

Maggie trained her eyes at her close colleague and suddenly felt immensely glad he was there.

He glanced around carefully and smiled at her, giving her a hug. "Let's get you out of here before any nosy reporter sees you're back in the country," he said.

She hesitated as he began to lead her away. "Lennie, do you know what happened?" she asked.

"You're damn lucky to be alive, Maggie, you've just been in a flight accident in the Alps," he said seriously. "Are you sure you are all right?"

"On our way to Paris, Joe said something about military traffic interrupting our flight path," she mused.

"Who's Joe?" Lennie questioned as he tugged at her arm.

"A friend of mine, one of the pilots on the Concorde," Maggie explained as she rubbed her aching forehead. "He didn't know what it was. Has there been any information forthcoming about it?"

"Maggie," Lennie began seriously. "Let's get you home."

"No, please just tell me," she demanded.

"It was an unfortunate incident. It took some time to find out but the attack drone that was launched from Harrison Industries deviated from its flightpath and mistook the supersonic airliner for its prey," he said.

The hair at the back of Maggie's head rose. "I have a feeling, Lennie, that it was no accident. It was no accident at all," she said hollowly.

"What are you talking about Maggie?" her worried coworker asked as they made it outside the large terminal.

"Where is Doctor Harrison now?" she asked in a neutral voice, half expecting him to come and greet her like nothing had happened.

"No one knows. Apparently he landed shortly after your accident here at Dulles but no one has seen him."

"Why do you want to know, Maggie? What are you on to?" Lennie asked, getting more and more worried about his friend and colleagues well-being.

OOOOOO

Joe Patroni felt lethargic as he slowly got out of bed and reached for a robe that had been given to him the day before. He grimaced at the soreness in his shoulders and neck as he gingerly got into the garment. He still couldn't believe the events of the day before. With resolute steps he padded over to the bathroom on the other side of the corridor and two rooms to his left. He felt filthy and a little off the rocker. It would do him good with a warm shower, a shave and a large breakfast. He put on the water tap, shrugged out of the robe and walked into the shower. It felt good to let the moist air engulf him, to feel the warmth of the water prickle his skin. It really was too hot, coloring his skin red but he didn't care as long as he wasn't cold. He stood for ages in the shower until the whole bathroom was moist and the whole room was filled with vapor to the extent that he couldn't see himself in the mirror. With a satisfied smile he grabbed a towel and dried his body and hair before he walked over to the mirror and gently swabbed it clear with his hand. The face that stared back at him looked haunted with shades under the eyes and a stubble that covered the chin and cheeks. He noticed a faint scratch mark on his throat and briefly wondered when he'd gotten that.

The seasoned captain sighed and shook his head as he reached for one of the one-time shavers that had been placed in the bathroom for them to use and noticed that he was the first to shave. His thoughts went to Paul and Peter as he gently removed the stubble and studied his work, wondering how they were fairing. After all, he had been the one to try and calm the passengers. At that time Paul had been slumped over the yoke and Peter had been resting his head in his hands looking dazed. Then, when he'd gotten out of the aircraft both his colleagues had appeared to be in good mood and he'd let his worry for them diminish but he hadn't seen either of them since.

Joe was brought out of his musings by the rumble of his stomach and he suddenly chuckled. "I think it's time for breakfast," he said joyfully as he got into the robe and headed back to his room.

"There you are," the nurse said with a smile as she was waiting for him. "I was starting to get worried had you not gotten out of there soon."

"A shower has never felt so good," he said with finality.

Heidi Horst nodded. "I've brought back your clothes", she said. "I managed to persuade our neighbor that runs the laundry around here to have them dry and flat ironed till this morning."

"Thanks, that's much appreciated," Joe replied in amusement. "I was starting to get worried I'd have to go around in this robe the whole day."

The nurse laughed. "Nonsense, although I'm afraid that your clothing is not enough to wear around here and those low, black shoes might not be ideal either."

Joe shook his head. "Well, I'll have to talk with Paul about this. If he'd mentioned this was where he'd planned to land I would have brought my snowshoes," he joked.

Heidi sobered. "Please, it's too early to joke about it. I was terrified and I was already on the ground."

"I guess it's my way of deflecting things," Joe returned seriously. "Truth to be told I'm still having a hard time to come to terms with what happened."

The nurse nodded. "My husband will want to check you over one last time before you leave the premises but you appear well and in a good mood," she said.

"It was one hell of a ride," Joe let on. "But apart from some stiffness in my shoulders and neck and a few cuts and bruises, I am fine. I'm more concerned about my colleagues."

"Mr. O'Neill is talking to the Flight Investigator, going through the procedures and the accident. I'm afraid I couldn't stall him any longer," she said apologetically. "He arrived last night."

Joe nodded. "It's routine, I am afraid. I suppose the black box has been taken from the aircraft as well?"

Heidi shrugged.

"Well, we've got nothing to hide," Joe said and sighed. "The cargo door blew off for some reason. I still don't understand it. It's locked during flight. Paul got out in the cabin to confirm it and, I've got to tell you, I'm glad he managed to get back to the cockpit before the door completely fell off. He wouldn't have been a pretty sight to find otherwise. I doubt he would have been alive. The passengers got away with cuts and bruises because they were seated and strapped in," he said solemnly in a subdued voice.

"Captain Metrand is being checked out by my husband as we speak. He looks tired and I know he's got a few bumps and bruises but I have a feeling that won't stop him," the nurse answered with a twinkle in her eye.

"No, he's a bundle of energy, the little bugger," Joe said happily. "I haven't known him that long but, let's just say that enough time has passed to know what French curses sounds like."

They both chuckled at that.

"When you're ready Captain Patroni, breakfast is waiting for you upstairs," she said.

"My name is Joe, Nurse Horst," he replied.

She nodded. "And mine is Heidi."

OOOOOO