Chapter Ten – Departure and Arrival
Joe smiled as he saw Paul approaching him. "Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked.
"You know I've heard that question a multiple times over the last few days," Paul answered with a smirk and put his hands in front of his mouth to blow some warm air in his palms. "This place is too cold for me."
Joe chuckled. "I thought you liked it here, it was you who used to ski here and that wasn't too long ago was it?" he asked.
Paul shuddered. "If I'm to be exact that was five years ago. I did an involuntary flip and fractured my wrist," he said sarcastically.
Joe grimaced. "Bad luck," he said apologetically.
"Not really," Paul admitted with a faint smile. "I wasn't paying attention. I had my eyes on a beautiful brunette."
"Ouch," Joe said and suddenly laughed out loud. "Tell me you got the girl."
Paul shook his head. "Like I said I never told you I liked it here. You assumed I liked it here," he stated slyly.
"Well, you didn't give away much. You only said you used to ski here. I figured you liked it here," Joe returned.
Paul rolled his eyes. "Let's forget about that trip now," he said in annoyance and turned to gaze out over the frozen landscape. "Joseph, I've been thinking-"
The seriousness in his French colleague's voice made him turn toward him and follow his gaze until it settled on the wreck of the aircraft.
"Why did it go after us?" Paul finished.
"I think you just lost me," Joe said in confusion.
"That military drone. According to the filed flight plan the test would have taken place far away from us. The dummy aircraft it was supposed to be chasing was heading in the opposite direction and inland. It would not have been possible for the drone to accidentally pass its intended target and go for the Concorde instead," Paul reasoned.
"I don't think I like what you're insinuating," Joe mused unhappily.
"Okay, say that it really was an accident. How do you explain away the guy that flew under the radar and actually fired his missiles on us after the drone had been taken out?" Paul asked.
"I don't know about you, Paul, but I think that guy teased the French Air force a little too much. They wouldn't like being pictured as clueless and confused in the newspaper. They'd do anything to nail the bastard and find his true identity. Rest assured that they're determined to get to the bottom with it."
Paul snorted. "Well, that's exactly what they'll have to do. Get to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean," he said sarcastically.
"It's certainly an interesting point of view but why would Harrison Industries blow their deal with the military and lose a contract worth millions just to blow us out of the sky and why would the company be connected to the guy in the fighter jet? Forget it Paul, what got you thinking about that – the press? They're always trying to find conspiracies where there are none. However, all the intrigues aside I'm most curious as of why the cargo door popped open mid-flight," Joe said.
"Me too, Joseph. Me too," Paul echoed mutedly.
"There you are!" Isabelle said with a smile. "Our caretakers want to serve us a parting meal. The medical helicopter will arrive at nineteen hundred hours local time and pick us up."
Paul hastily glanced at his wristwatch, it was only a little over three hours left.
Inside the house Joanna Jones couldn't help but to smile as the older nurse and part owner of the medical practice walked into the large dining room balancing a tray filled with various things.
She hastily went forward and gently took the tray from the woman. "Let me do that Mrs. Horst," she said softly, eager to do something.
"It's Heidi, remember?" She said seriously albeit with a smile as she let the flight attendant take the tray from her and watched as the younger woman effortlessly walked over to the table with it.
"Well, it's certainly not the first time you've done that," the nurse said with a warm smile.
Joanna's lips curled upwards as she began to arrange the glasses and bestick around the table. "I don't mind doing this and I don't mind serving people. In my youth, before I applied as a flight attendant, I worked at a restaurant," she said.
"I'm curious," Heidi began. "What made you want to apply?"
"For starters, the travels, to be able to see so much of the world. Part of the job is basically the same as at the restaurant. You take orders from your customers, serve drinks and dishes-" Joanna chuckled lightly and wrinkled her nose. "Of course nothing prepared me for the luftgropar at the restaurant."
Heidi laughed. "Placed any coffee in the laps of a passenger?" she asked.
Joanna nodded sheepishly. "I've done worse," she admitted. "I dropped a paper cup filled to the brim in the first officer's lap. I remember it well because it was on one of my first flights. He was old and stern. I was nearly thrown out of the cockpit."
Heidi chuckled and shook her head jovially.
"Then, when we'd arrived at our destination and I was walking together with my colleagues from the cabin, the captain walked up to me. I recall the amused look on his face as he gently placed his hand on my shoulder and said; 'Welcome to West Air.'"
"My goodness," Claude said with mock despair as he and the other flight attendant, Mary Clark walked into the room. "You worked for West Air?"
Joanna raised an impeccable eyebrow. "You too?" she asked in disbelief.
"I transferred after two months," he said. "Couldn't stand 'Captain Grumpy' and his bunch of happy campers."
"Who?" Joanna asked with a low chuckle.
"Prendergast," Claude clarified. "He disliked me from day one."
"Spilled coffee in his lap?" Heidi asked mischievously, unable to help herself.
They all burst out laughing.
"Cheerful bunch," Paul remarked as he, Joe, Peter and Isabelle walked in to join the rest of them with Doctor Horst in tow.
"I believe they were nicknaming flight crews," Peter said dryly in his best British accent.
"Really?" Joe mused cunningly as he spared a glance at Paul. "I wonder what they call us – Papa Bear and the Pink Panther."
Paul spared him an indignant glance but he was unable not to smile. "What?" he asked in disbelief, all traces of his French accent gone.
"Please, stop," Mary gasped between the laughs as she placed a hand over her bruised ribs. "It hurts."
Doctor Horst cleared his throat. "Why don't we all take a seat," he suggested.
Paul harrumphed as he sat down at the table. "Americans," he muttered.
"I heard that, honey," Joe whispered jovially as he got into the chair next to him.
"Now," Heidi began as she raised her glass. "Let's toast to the crew, flight and cabin, of the Concorde."
The others quickly raised their glasses in the air to join in.
"Thank you for bringing that aircraft down safely and for saving all the lives onboard," Heidi finished.
"Thank you for taking care of us," Joe said and the others chimed in.
The doctor spoke up at the end of the table. "Well, when the chefs at the hotel heard that we planned a dinner for you they insisted on fixing it so what you see on the table is from every one of us that work here at the resort. We will certainly not forget you."
"I chose to interpret that as a good thing," Joe said with a sly grin and nodded toward Paul. "Or what do you think, Pink Panther?"
Paul, unprepared for the mischievous comment, nearly choked on his sparkling water while the others burst out laughing again.
"I think, Papa Bear, that next time we fly together I'll throw you out the door," he said testily albeit with a teasing smile.
Doctor Horst shook his head at them, a smile still lingering on his lips, before he turned somber and glanced around the table at the men and women before him. "I'm glad you are able to laugh about it but I must caution you. You've been through a lot lately and the body, even though it's an amazing thing, takes time to heal. You're lucky to escape with cuts and bruises, some soreness and stiff joints. I think you know it could have been much worse," he said seriously.
"Franz," Heidi warned. "You're spoiling the good mood."
"What I'm trying to say is – just take it easy for a while, no strenuous activities, listen to your bodies. Take care of yourselves," he said softly.
"We will," Isabelle said and she spoke for everyone. "As Joe said before; thank you for taking care of us. We'll never forget you either."
OOOOOO
Tim Johnston relaxed and took a deep breath as he unbuckled his seatbelt, glad that he'd finally arrived. He hated flying and despite his easygoing demeanor on the outside he was downright afraid while being up in the air. He reasoned that was because he'd seen too many documentaries on the television showing some of the most gruesome aircraft crashes in the history of the United States. What rattled him the most at the moment was the latest accident that had hit a little too close to home, involving an aircraft he'd inspected himself only two days ago. He shook his head as he took his luggage and headed out of the aircraft and down the stairs to the ground where a terminal buss awaited to take the passengers to the main building and then, probably, further away around the world.
Johnston glanced wearily at his watch and sighed. The trouble with travelling from the US to Europe was the time difference. He'd already lost almost a day. It was already early night, the sun had settled and been replaced by the silvery moon and he knew that the night shift had revealed the regular crew. He would not be able to conduct much of an investigation on his own at night so he might just as well head inside the Airport building and make for the office to have some chit chat and a coffee.
It took the lead mechanic almost another thirty minutes to reach the Federation World Airlines office situated at the far end of one of the tarmacs at Charles de Gaulle. When he walked through the door a beautiful dark haired woman clad in the company's suit fired off a welcoming bright smile despite the late hour.
"Welcome to France. It is not often that we see you, Mr. Johnston," she said politely.
Tim couldn't help but to smile back. "If I'd know my colleagues were much prettier overseas I would have come sooner," he said.
"Such comments will take you far," she replied mischievously. "I do suspect that you could kill for large cup of coffee."
He nodded as she turned away from him and retrieved a freshly brewed beverage and handed it to him. He greedily began to sip on the coffee and squealed in delight at the taste of the deep aroma.
"I hope it was satisfactory," the woman said with a dazzling smile at the look of joy on his face. "I was told you liked it black and strong."
"It was perfect and just what I needed. You spoil me and, if you keep going, I'll have to bargain for more time in Paris," he said and returned the smile as the weariness he'd felt earlier vanished. "I don't think we've been properly introduced."
"My apologies," she said softly in her French accented English and introduced herself. "I'm Celine Bonn, the administration manager at the de Gaulle office."
"I'm curious," he drawled softly, his eyes sparkling. "What does the manager do at the office at such lousy hours?"
She bent forward over the desk seductively. "Well, Monsignor Johnston, what does the company's maintenance head officer do at the office at such a late hour?"
He chuckled. "Touché."
She shook her head lightly as she straightened, poured another cup of coffee and added cream to it. "I drew the shortest straw and got the night flights on my schedule," she explained.
He rolled his eyes and reached up to scratch his brow lightly. "Bad luck," he stated with a twitch of his lips. "Seems I'm having bad luck as well. I had hoped to arrive sooner but with the delay and everything I didn't have a chance to get here before maintenance supervisor Grange went home."
"That's all right," Celine said. "Sean left some folders up here should you be eager to start your investigation."
Tim brightened. "Well, what does he have for me?"
"The checklists for maintenance on the Concorde, Froelich's last filed notes, the name and workbooks from the crew that has been working with the supersonic aircraft recently. He said it was all you needed to get started," she said.
"Wonderful," he said as he nodded behind her. "Can I use one of the desks?"
"Certainly," Celine said. "But please don't be at it the whole night. One of my staff has booked you in at the closest five star Hotel. I suggest you go there and have a few hours of sleep, get refreshed and grab a nice breakfast before diving into work. Grange will be at the maintenance section at seven o'clock tomorrow morning."
OOOOOO