Chapter 15

"Contents of the Cockpit"

While all the focus was on Lockerbie itself, Father Patrick Keegans had spent a good deal of the morning standing over the cockpit of the Clipper Maid of the Seas. He knew very well that bodies were still in the plane and he needed to stay with them as investigators combed through the wreckage that spilled out of the cockpit.

"Father, are you certain that you want to stay here with the dead?" asked a townsman, picking up American dollar bills. "There are other people in town that need your support right now."

"Not until the bodies inside the cockpit are recovered," sighed Father Keegans, placing a hand on the shoulder of the townsman. "It just doesn't feel right leaving them here alone and besides…"

At that moment, a white van came forward and out stepped a team of people wearing blue coats with the words NTSB on them.

"Are you the town priest?" asked an NTSB investigator.

"I am," answered Father Keegans. "I've ensured that the deceased are kept company until you arrived."

"We're just investigating the plane itself," said the investigator. "We have reason to believe the cockpit voice recorder is inside."

Father Keegans watched as Farmer Jones and I arrived just after the NTSB. For the first time, I could see what would become the symbol of this tragedy: the Maid of the Seas cockpit.

"Come on, Growlithe," grunted Farmer Jones, shutting off the truck and getting out of it. "Might as well see what we can do here."

Following suit, Psyduck and I got out of the truck and all we could do was stand in amazement of how the cockpit managed to stay intact…at least the port side of it. I wanted to get close, but I didn't want my heels to get ruined from the mud. Besides, who knew what was going to be inside the cockpit. However, I did get the attention of Father Keegans.

"May I help you, lass?" he asked, seemingly surprised that I was here.

"Are you the town priest?"

"I am and you must be…"

"I'm Lucy Stevens from CMN, I'm covering the Pan Am 103 crash."

"Aye, just look at it," he sighed. "What a way to mark the birth of our savior."

At that moment, Farmer Jones, the volunteers and the investigators began working on reaching the cockpit voice recorder as well as recovering the occupants inside. Looking inwards, Farmer Jones took his torch and found all the bodies of first class passengers still strapped in their seats, but hanging upside down.

"They had no pain," sighed Farmer Jones sadly. "Like the ones I found in my fields."

"Keep the light on," said the investigator, as he beckoned for a truck to come forward to collect the bodies. "We've gotta get them out."

For the next 20 minutes, each body was carefully removed and covered with a tarp. The clear objective at that moment was to get the bodies to the town hall for identification. But there was so much tangled metal and seatbelts that made the recovery slow. Eventually, the investigators reached the bodies of Stacey Keane and Jessica Koster, the two lawyers returning to California in Seats 3A and 3B.

Both of their bodies were lying on top of one another, with Stacey's body seemingly cushioned by Jessica's.

"All right careful now," said a volunteer, gently dragging Stacey's body out first, her green blouse untucked and torn open, revealing the black bra underneath and her hair completely undone from the neat bun she had it in when she boarded in Frankfurt. Once she was loaded on a backboard, the rescuers then proceeded to recover Jessica's body. Like Stacey, her gold blouse was also torn open and untucked revealing a black bra underneath. Aside from that, it seemed like they weren't harmed in any other way.

"Hold on, we got someone here," the volunteer cried. "Shine your torch here, Jones."

So Jones did as he was told, shining the light on Seat 1J and hanging upside down was the body of a redheaded woman of 32 years of age. Gently, they pulled her out of the wreckage and I looked out further to see who it was and right away, I could tell from the color orange that it was a familiar face.

"Scarlett," I gasped, with a shocked look on my face. "Scarlett, no!"

My eyes were kept locked on Scarlett's stretcher as it was taken to the recovery truck along with Stacey and Jessica's bodies. I couldn't believe it, a fellow reporter was dead in this tragedy and all I could was pray for her soul.

Back in the cockpit, several more bodies were recovered including a flight attendant and the three pilots, their bodies twisted in the cockpit.

"Wait!" said a volunteer, holding what appeared to be a white airline captain's hat in his hands. Gently, he placed the hat on the body of one of the pilots. "I found this hat about 20 feet away."

A few moments later, a black van came forward towards the church and a group of men came out of the van and they also had jackets on as well, but with the letters, FBI on them.

"Hold on a second, folks!" one of them cried, a man in his 50's, causing them to stop loading the bodies. "Are you trying to get the CVR?"

"Yes," said the NTSB investigator. "What do you guys want?"

"We've been assigned to come here and investigate here for a possible crime scene," replied the FBI agent. "I'm Agent Melvin Purvis and this is my partner, Agent Charles Winstead."

"Crime scene?" I whispered. "So, is this not an accident anymore? How? It's only been almost 24 hours."

"So, mind if we join you?" asked Agent Winstead in a distinct southern accent.

"Of course," remarked the NTSB investigator. "But, what exactly are you looking for?"

"Let's just say there is a connection with Team Rocket in this case," said Agent Purvis. "Did you recover the bodies of Stacey Keane and Jessica Koster?"

"You'll have to ask the volunteers."

"They've already been loaded to be taken to the town hall," said Farmer Jones. "That's where all the bodies are being taken."

The sudden presence of the FBI brought about the fact that Team Rocket was starting to become more and more the prime suspect in the bombing of Pan Am Flight 103.

"Again, the only thing we want is the Cockpit Voice Recorder," said the NTSB investigator. "Whatever else is yours."

"Very well then."

From a short distance, I watched the NTSB and FBI joining forces and I knew that Lockerbie was about to be visited by more of the same. I didn't want to call Lockerbie and the surrounding areas a crime scene, but with the fact that students from the Pokemon League Academy were on board, it was getting closer to being one.