Chapter Twenty Five – Where Are They Now?
First Officer Pierre La Croix checked his watch for the second time where he stood in FWA's office near the main entrance hall, section eight, tarmac two at Dulles International Airport in Washington DC. The airport was bustling with activity and milling with people. However, the man he was looking for seemed to have vanished into thin air. He adjusted his uniform tie, corrected his hat and lightly brushed his jacket with his fingers as if it would straighten it out. He took a deep breath as he took one last glance in the mirror before turning to head out in the hallway.
Security was rushing past just as he got out and he hastily sidestepped glancing after them trying to spot however they were after. He shook his head sadly, it seemed the world was slowly changing, getting darker and harder for every day. He still had a hard time getting his head around the fact that some egomaniacal business magnate had tried to kill an entire load of passengers on an airliner just to stop one of them from exposing him and his deeds to the public. It gave him the creeps just to think about, how his working place had become unsafe.
Of course he knew there was a chance that every flight was his last but usually most of the risks could be eliminated by avoiding storm fronts, checking the aircraft properly, go through the checklists, recalculate vectors, fuel capacity, loads and such should it be required. In the end it was his own level of preparation that could cause trouble. However, now a parameter had been added. There had been times in the past when some crazy passenger had tried to blow the plane into pieces, tried to hijack an airliner and so on but now it was even possible to be targeted from the ground.
He shuddered involuntarily as he wrapped his arms around his middle, his shoulders tensing as he stared down the busy tarmac.
"If it isn't my first officer," a French accented voice called from behind, causing the roguishly handsome fortyish something, grey-haired man to jump.
Pierre hastily turned around, straightening, as he stared right into the face of Captain Paul Metrand. He chuckled. "Are you trying to give me a heart-attack?" he asked with a tease as he broke into a smile.
"You were so caught up in your own thoughts you wouldn't have heard an elephant coming up from behind you," the captain returned wryly. "I do hope you'll pay more attention when we're flying."
Pierre shook his head. "I'm shocked, sir, that you would even suggest-"he trailed off as Paul broke into a wide grin, then started laughing.
"I've never doubted you, you know that," the captain said as he turned serious again.
"Thank you, sir," he returned.
Paul snorted. "What's gotten into you anyway? You've never called me that before and as far as I know nothing has changed," he said suspiciously.
"You do know that you're the new Chief pilot around here don't you?" The first officer teased lightly.
Paul nodded but he didn't look pleased, causing Pierre to scrutinize him for a moment before finally saying; "You look uncertain."
"I don't know, I guess I wasn't prepared for everything that comes with the territory," he admitted, his voice sounding weary all of a sudden. "Schemes, reports, company service, meetings with the union, fleet coordination-"he trailed off. "My flight time will be reduced and one of the main reasons for me becoming a pilot was the freedom, one day in USA, one day in Australia, Europe, you name it."
Pierre shrugged. "Well, I always considered the job glassy but when you look at it that way it kind of takes the edge out of it," he said. "I thought it would be you and I just as before – the only difference being that I can now go around and brag about being the first officer to FWA's chief pilot," Pierre added with a smirk and then broke into a grin. "I'm sure the ladies would like that."
Paul eyed him sternly but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away. "You're so full of it," he said, unable not to chuckle as he started for the door to the office and lounge.
In reality they didn't work in teams always pared together. All of them had their own schedule to fly by. However, since there would be only two supersonic aircrafts at the company there was a good chance they would work a lot together.
"Seriously, Paul," Pierre said suddenly. "I'm glad you made it. You, that confident American and the shy Englishman. Come to think of it you seemed to have been a good combination."
Paul nodded. "I like and respect both of them for their skills and quick thinking. This might sound odd to you but they are the only ones who can understand what it was like up front in that "miracle landing" as the reporters like to call it," he said, the last words with a hint of bitterness.
"I've learned things about myself, discovered many errors, found sides of myself that I didn't know I had," he said and then chuckled humorlessly. "I've learned that no matter what they tell you about the situations in the simulators; how real they are. It will never be the same as the real thing, it cannot be the same."
"And every accident is unique," Pierre mused as he gently placed a hand on Paul's shoulder. "Tell you what, I hope I'll never have to endure what you did and that our future trips will be as smooth as silk."
The captain turned to his first officer, one he trusted and had done many voyages with before the accident albeit for another company. "Great, now you've jinxed us," he let on theatrically.
Pierre slapped his friend shoulder. "As the Americans say; 'A walk in the park.'"
"It's definite; I'll never survive," Paul groaned as he stepped into the office causing the attendants and VIP passengers alike to look at him with a frown having heard the last of their conversation.
Pierre followed Paul behind the counter and inside the office compartment of FWA's department at de Gaulle. "I was in the neighborhood and on my way to pick up my schedule for flying A320 until the new Concorde arrives. I saw your name on the board and heard you were on your way here. I just wanted to congratulate you on the job," he said simply with a wry grin as he slapped his colleague on the back.
Paul nodded thoughtfully, his smile faint and cautious as he studied his first officer. "Two months, Pierre. That's how long you'll have to fly regular aircrafts," he finally said enigmatically. "If everything goes according to plan."
OOOOOO
At the rescue center and private practice at the Swiss ski resort Heidi and Franz Horst stood out on their large balcony overlooking the snowy pists below. The snow crystals was glittering in the fresh and early morning air as the sun casts its first rays over the landscape. There was not a single trace of the Flight accident that had occurred several months before and had they told the story to some unknowing new tourist he or she would have looked at them like they'd grown two heads. However, most of the nations in Europe and the USA knew of the accident as it was cabled out on all the available networks at the time. Just after the crash there had been an increase in travel to the region as people wanted to have a look at the scene for themselves. After a while tranquility once again settled over the resort and everyday life returned to normal. The aircraft and the crash site had been meticulously searched for clues about the events and the Flight Investigators had been staying for quite a while. When they'd been finished the aircraft had been taken away and the ski lane had once again been cleared, inspected and prepared for new skiers.
Heidi gently put her hand over Franz' on the balcony railing and looked up at him with a smile. "It's not there anymore," she said somberly, talking about the Concorde. "It sat there in the snow for so long that I got used to having it there."
Franz snorted. "Took them long enough to get it off the ground," he said harshly but with a twinkle in his eyes.
"I wonder what happened." Heidi mused. "I wonder what all those passengers and crew are doing nowadays."
"Getting on with their lives probably," Franz suggested. "According to our local news reporter the company, Federation World Airlines, will be flying supersonic within the week between the states and France."
"What?" Heidi asked teasingly. "Have you been gossiping, Franz?"
"I liked them," the stern doctor admitted with a crocked smile. "I'm not that fond of flying but should we decide to go to the States as you want then we're going to travel with the FWA from Paris."
Heidi broke into a surprised grin. She'd been on her way to the states when she was young but unfortunate circumstances had hindered her and then she'd met her husband and been busy working all her life.
"Hold your horses. I didn't say when," he cautioned but he couldn't help but grin at her. "I was going to let it be a surprise but I can't seem to keep things from you can I?"
The nurse suddenly chuckled and shook her head. "You've never been good at surprises, Franz," she let on with a wink.
"Well, then perhaps you'll see some of them again," he said. "I'll book us in on a Concorde Flight from Paris to Washington. I have a feeling you'll at least meet Paul and Isabelle again. If our heroes have time for us."
"I'm no hero. I was just doing my job. Then perhaps I didn't want to die just yet," Paul's French accented English echoed in the back of her mind.
"Oh," Heidi said with a smile. "I think they have time. And while we're at it I suggest we take a tour of Paris. Perhaps we can ask our heroes to guide us?" She finished enthusiastically.
Franz sneaked an arm around her middle and hugged her before gently giving her a peck on the cheek. "Believe it or not but their accident made me realize something, Heidi. Life isn't just routine and work, it's about living while you're alive."
OOOOOO
"Hey," Joe said happily, his eyes twinkling, as he spotted Peter O'Neill and Joanna Jones and Mary Clark outside the office, obviously waiting for him. "I don't believe it. You're going the same way?"
Joanna shook her head and grinned. "Washington, seventeen hundred hours?" she said.
"That would be me," Joe concurred and then asked jovially; "How have you been?"
"It's been months, I still wake up at night in cold sweet at times," Joanna said sadly.
"Believe me when I say that we all have our ups and downs," Joe returned with a smirk. "Today it's up in Paris and down in Washington."
"Get out of here you big, old joke," Joanna teased as she slapped him on the shoulder.
"Now, Joanna," Peter admonished with a cunning smile. "Go easy on Papa Bear."
Joe laughed. "Come on kids, let's prepare the old girl for flight."
OOOOOO