Chapter Sixteen – Fingers Crossed

Henri Davis walked into one of the larger, spacy buildings next to the main terminal of the de Gaulle airport to find the Arman Clou, the man in charge of the pilot training center and simulator testing.

The lobby was bustling with activity and several newly promoted first officers walked by him, chatting expectantly on their way toward the testing area. He walked up to the receptionist and was pointed in the direction of the manager's office. As he took the elevator to the third floor he was joined with two seasoned captains who seemed to be on their way to a meeting.

The investigator exited the elevator and began to walk down the corridor and recognized many of the names next to the office doors he was passing. He was in luck and found the door open and the manager just inside, on his way to something.

"Mr. Clou," Henri said politely as he knocked gently on the door frame to make his presence known.

"Ah, yes," the man clad in an impeccable suit acknowledged as he shuffled some papers on his desk and turned toward the door. "Mr. Davis, I heard you were on your way."

"What have you got for me?" the investigator asked curiously.

"I had the telemetry put into the simulator to replicate the conditions that the pilots on FWA flight 28 was faced with. Just for the fun of it I decided to give ten different captains the task of landing the aircraft safely. I might add that since it's a supersonic aircraft with a delta wing it has entirely different capabilities than a regular airliner. It took me some time to find a variety of certified officers, correlate their flying schedules and have them report here," the manager said as he motioned for Davis to head out in the corridor.

"I see," Davis remarked as he followed Clou to the elevator.

They stood in silence for a moment in the car, then Clou turned to the investigator and shook his head. "No one made it," he said and handed over a folder.

Before Davis could reply the elevator pinged and doors opened on the tenth floor. Clou once again took the lead through various corridors until they ended up at the testing center.

"Out of ten certified pilots you mean to tell me that not a single one of them landed the aircraft safely?" the investigator asked skeptically, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"That's exactly what I said," Clou, the former military air force advisor, stated.

Davis made a face.

"Luckily none of them flew it," Cloud added.

"Why?" Davis asked curiously.

"It's all in the report," Clou replied. "If I'm to summarize it for you. Several of the pilots didn't have the creativity or the luck to find a snowfield and crashed into a mountain. Two tried to reach the suggested airport – Innsbruck International. They didn't make it. Another tried to glide the aircraft to safety but misjudged the enormity of the damage that the aircraft had sustained. One captain was taken completely by surprise by the whole thing. The only one that came close to do what Captain Metrand managed was the test pilot currently employed at the factory but he sat down the plane a little too hard and since the structural damage to the airliner was already straining on the hull it broke into several pieces – no one would have walked out of that plane alive."

Davis nodded, digesting the information as Captain Clou turned to him. "My apologies, I'll have to leave you. I'm scheduled to talk in front of a class of newbies before they'll be trying out the simulator," he said and then added. "If I were you I'd shake that man's hand. He's one hell of a pilot. If there is anyone to blame for the loss of the supersonic it's certainly not him, or his co-pilot."

Davis nodded with a quirk at the arrogant old pilot who turned on his heels to stride down the corridor. He was surprised when Clou suddenly turned around to face him once more with a smug look on his face.

"You're a little late Mr. Davis," Clou said. "The media reported that Captain Metrand and Captain Patroni are free of suspicions and that they performed flawlessly under the extraordinary circumstances surrounding the flight."

OOOOOO

Gemma Harrison hesitated at the door and began to question whether or not she really wanted to see her husband one more time but then she gathered herself, exhaled slowly and headed through the large double door to the mortuary.

"Excuse me ma'am," an older man clad in a doctor's white coat said as he walked up to her. "This is a restricted area."

"I…I've come to say goodbye to my late husband," she managed unconvincingly.

The medical examiner nodded as he straightened his glasses on his sharp nose. "I offer you my condolences," he said politely with a sympathetic look. "To lose loved ones are never easy."

"I suppose I should have come earlier, perhaps he's not even here anymore," she blurted out, her eyes downcast. "I've been told not to see him but I think I have too."

Somehow the old doctor's presence made her calm, he appeared stern yet lighthearted and his grey hair spoke of a lifetime of experience with the deceased and their relatives.

Suddenly realizing she hadn't told him her name Gemma reached out to shake his hand. "My apologies for not introducing myself properly," she said. "Gemma Harrison."

The doctor raised a curious eyebrow as he returned the handshake. "William Toll, lead medical examiner," he said as he started to lead the way toward an adjoining room. "Your husband presented

us with a mystery there for a while."

"How so?" she wondered aloud and shivered as she walked deeper into the mortuary.

He said nothing as he located her late husband and gently opened the door to pull the cartridge out.

No matter how much she'd tried to steel herself for the moment of seeing his lifeless body she still wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted her and she raised her hand to her mouth and gasped.

The doctor eyed her with concern. "They are never a pretty sight, Mrs. Harrison, especially not those who've shoot themselves point blank in the head."

"No," she whispered as she felt her knees go week.

The doctor gently steadied her and led her away from the deceased. He steered her in the direction of a chair and pushed her into it.

She forced herself to take a deep breath as he walked back into the room where Kevin's body was being kept and she heard the door close, figuring the doctor had put the body back into its temporary resting place.

"I don't understand," she whispered as the man came back into the room. "Our family doctor told me Kevin died of a stroke."

The doctor frowned. "Well his brain did go haywire but not because of a stroke," he said.

"Lies," she mumbled, her voice quivering. "More lies."

"Look, Mrs. Harrison. I think you've had quite a shock. Why don't I close up here for a moment and walk you over to the cafeteria and talk this true," he suggested kindly.

OOOOOO

Joseph Patroni was nervous. He hadn't been that in such a long time that he'd forgotten the horrible dread it caused. His palms were slick as he got out of the cab just outside the large hospital building in Washington. Disgusted he gently brushed off the perspiration on his trousers, straightened his shoulders and walked into the building. The hospital's main entrance was bustling with activity as usual as he stopped just inside the doors, anonymous to the crowd in the waiting area, clad in a black costume and a light grey shirt that was accented with a deep green tie. The last time he'd visited a real hospital, not a practice, was the year before when he'd said goodbye to his wife. To him the word hospital triggered a feeling of doom, a knot in his stomach. This day didn't sit well with him either. It was the D-day, the day when his fate would be decided by someone else.

He dreaded coming to the doctor more than he'd dreaded the flight accident several weeks before. The accident he'd fooled himself to believe he had control over but the man clad in a white medical coat was as unpredictable as the lightning. Joseph was old now, he'd even felt old the last few days as he'd glanced at himself in the mirror, staring at the white haired man with a few crow sparks too many around his eyes. He drank only occasionally nowadays and he'd give in to a Cuban cigar now and then but that was it. Flying had always been important to him and he'd been doing it for so long that he didn't know what to do when he would be forced to quit. Without his wife and child there was no one waiting for him back home, no one to talk to.

"Can I help you, sir?" A soft spoken young nurse asked politely with a warm smile as she walked up to him, breaking his negative train of thoughts.

He frowned for a moment and then gave her a nervous chuckle before harrumphing. "Actually, I have an appointment with Doctor Mahoney," he said.

She nodded at him and mentioned for him to follow her to the nurse's station or administration desk. She quickly confirmed the appointment and smiled at him. "Captain Joseph Patroni?" she asked, this time with a slight awe in her voice.

He smirked. "Yes, that's right," he acknowledged.

"I thought I'd seen you somewhere," she returned to Joe's chagrin. "Please come with me, I'll take you to his office."

"There is no need," he began humbly.

"For a man who miraculously saved over hundred people I'd be honored too," she returned.

"I think it's my colleague you should say thank you to," Joe finished. "I was just the passenger with the best seat."

"You're being modest, Captain Patroni," the nurse said, the tone in her voice made it clear she didn't really believe him. "If it makes you feel any better, I was heading in the same direction as you."

They shared a laugh and stepped into the elevator.

OOOOOO

Isabelle Delé walked the old sweeping sidewalk in the posh suburban neighborhood with a nervous stance. She eyed the old trees canting the pavement, dividing it from the driving lane. She had walked the path many times before but it felt different today; it was different today. She held in her hand a large cabin bag that dutifully rolled on its small wheels behind her. With a shaky breath she stopped at the front gate of one of the old houses and glanced up at the masterful yet picturesque building. Her hand trembled as she reached for the beautifully decorated Iron Gate and gently opened it. Clad in her favorite white blouse and tight narrow jeans matched with a pair of high heels she continued through the tidy garden and up the worn stone steps to the wooden front door. Isabelle hesitated before reaching out to knock. It felt like she was about to intrude, like she didn't belong in such a neighborhood yet she couldn't wait but to settle in. Some part of her still prepared to be rejected and given the cold shoulder as she couldn't believe that they were finally moving in together; or more precisely that she was moving in with Paul, the handsome flight captain who caught most women's attention. Caught up in a reverie about him, as the hopeless romantic she was, she jumped as the door suddenly opened.

Paul Metrand gave her a warm, genuine smile as he appeared clad in marine slacks and a tight V-necked t-shirt that only accented his good looks. "Isabelle," he greeted happily. "There you are. I have been waiting for you. I was afraid you'd changed your mind."

"Changed my mind?" she echoed with a frown as she leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his cheek. "Never, Monsignor. It's Je'Taime, Paul."

He chuckled and to Isabelle's surprise he sounded nervous as he took her bag from her.

"I hope you still say that after a year or so," he said humbly with a faint smile as he glanced over his shoulder toward her.

Isabelle suddenly laughed. "What happened to the cocky, self-assured captain I used to know?" she teased as she began to follow him inside and slid her arms around his middle, stopping him from walking any further.

"You do know me, Isabelle," he answered as he gracefully turned around in her grip. "I'm not good at relationships."

She glanced up at him as they stood pressed against one another and she breathed in his soft cologne. "I know what I'm getting," she finally said as she exhaled slowly and kissed him passionately. "I do know you, Paul. I won't walk away and I won't let you walk away either."

He couldn't help but to smile as he stared into her sparkling eyes and leaned forward to kiss her again. When they parted he nodded inside. "Well, welcome home then," he said.

OOOOOO