“Did you see the altitude going down?”
The controller shook his head. “No, Sir. It was stable until he blinked out.”
“How about a basic radar return? Did you see anything after he disappeared?
The controller shook his head as he pointed to another spot on the screen. “There’s that other target. No transponder signal. Just a raw radar image.”
The supervisor looked at the shadowy target the controllers called a “skin paint,” the echo of the radar beam off a flying metal object, unenhanced by the electronic information usually provided by an aircraft’s transponder.
The controller moved his finger just below the intermittent target, which was to the right of Meridian this time. He toggled a switch to enhance the raw signal, and it flared more brightly, clearly moving laterally toward the 747.
The supervisor pushed the Transmit button. “Meridian Five, Hong Kong. We have that intermittent target again to your three o’clock position, altitude unknown.”
Aboard Meridian 5, Dan’s face was pressed to the side window. “I see nothing over here, Pete!”
Pete shook his head. “You suppose the Chinese Air Force is out here playing games?” Pete triggered the radio with his Transmit button. “If this is some sort of military game, Hong Kong, tell them to stop. It’s a violation of civil rules.”
The supervisor’s voice was back in an instant. “We know of no explanation, Meridian. We are also missing a business jet who was ahead of you. Have you had any contact with Global Express Two-Two-Zulu?”
Dan and Pete exchanged glances.
“This is weird. What do you suppose happened to them?” Dan said to Pete, just as the supervisor’s voice came back, intense and rapid.
“Meridian, we’ve lost that target. We are informing our military authorities.”
“Dan, look up the numbers for our Air Force base in Taiwan, just in case.”
The copilot reached for his bag and pulled out the appropriate manual, flipping to the right page. He was in the process of glancing up from the manual at the same instant the world seemed to explode in an incredible burst of hideously bright light that saturated the cockpit, stabbing his eyes and thrusting him back in the seat with unbelievable pain. An unearthly, agonized scream erupted from the left seat and the 747 shuddered into some sort of shock wave.
Dan’s eyes were on fire. His eyelids slammed shut, the pain all but unbearable, an endless field of white where his vision should have been.
“Pete! Are you okay?” Dan called.
There was another guttural screech from the left seat, and Dan reached out to touch the captain. He felt Pete Cavanaugh’s body slump to the left.
“Pete? Pete! Speak to me!”
Dan felt for the control yoke in front of the captain. Pete’s hands weren’t on it.
“Pete? For God’s sake, answer me!”
There was no sound from the left seat.
The supervisor in Hong Kong Control was in his ear, asking what they had seen. Dan wanted to answer, but his mind was in complete confusion, his eyes two burning coals of intense pain, his captain unresponsive — and the 747 obviously wobbling around, out of the control of either pilot.
Autopilot!
Dan reached to the upper console and punched the square push button that engaged the autopilot, and felt the giant machine begin to right itself.
My God, what’s going on here? No depressurization. Windshield’s intact.
The autoflight system had been set for climb at Mach.74 before Pete disconnected, he recalled. He needed to reengage the autothrottles, too. But should they climb? Maybe not.
Declare an emergency… got to go back… may need to dump fuel, we’re heavy.
Dan snapped on the autothrottles and selected the Altitude Hold button, praying he’d gotten the right one. He could hear the throttles adjusting themselves as he fumbled for the Transmit button.
“Hong Kong, has there been a nuclear detonation somewhere ahead? Something… something exploded up here!”
“Say again, Meridian.”
“Something exploded just in front of us! I think we’re hit. There’re only two of us on the flight deck, and the captain is not responding. I’m on autopilot, but this is the first officer and my eyes have been badly hurt. I can’t see. I need your help.”
The voice from below sounded almost as shaken as his own. “Ah — Meridian, this is Hong Kong. You are heading now zero-eight-two degrees, and you appear level at one-two thousand feet, ground speed three hundred forty knots. Say your intentions?”
“Hell, Hong Kong, I don’t know. I’m, ah… let me calm down up here and try… try to figure out what I’ve got, okay? Stay with me. Give me a turn if necessary to stay in your radio range.” Dan realized he was almost hyperventilating with fear and pain. He forced himself to slow his breathing rate, willing the searing pain to the back of his consciousness as he tried to deal with the crisis.
“We’ll need to come back, I’m sure of that. Ah… declare us… I mean, I’m declaring an emergency right now.”
“Roger, Meridian. We have your emergency declaration. Be advised Hong Kong is now under a severe thunderstorm watch, and rain is beginning. There is more weather to the east. We can keep you clear in the meantime, but for now, please maintain present heading. Were you hit by lightning, Meridian?”
Maybe that’s it, Dan thought. No. It couldn’t be. Lightning isn’t that bright.
“Meridian, a question, please. Are there relief pilots aboard your aircraft?”
The stabbing pain behind each eye was getting worse, blanking out even his thoughts as Dan struggled to stay engaged and rise above the pain.
“No, Hong Kong. This is a two-man crew.”
Have to get someone up here! he told himself, fumbling with his left hand at the back of the pedestal for the interphone. He couldn’t find the right buttons at first, but finally pushed All Call and listened to the majority of the flight attendants come on the line from various sections of the aircraft.
“Britta, are you there somewhere?”
“Right here. Is this Dan? You sound strange.”
“Please… get up here right now! We have an emergency. I need you — WAIT! First, make a PA, ask for any other pilots on board, even… even if it scares everyone.”
“It’s scaring me, but I’m on the way.”
Britta Franz felt her stomach contracting into a singularity as she punched the PA button on the same handset and put it back to her mouth, trying to sound calm.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is the lead flight attendant. Please listen carefully. Our flight crew is requesting that anyone aboard who is a licensed pilot, please identify yourself by ringing your Call button.
There was silence amid the wide-eyed looks she was getting from the cabin passengers on the left side, the only ones who could see the apprehension on her face.
Bill Jenkins materialized at her side, waiting silently as she tried again.
Again, folks, please. If anyone on this aircraft is a licensed pilot, regardless of what you fly, please ring your Call button immediately. I… do not know the reason for the pilots making this request, folks, but please comply. Anyone?
Bill leaned toward her. “Britta, I’ll keep trying. You’d better get up there.”
She gave the handset to him without a word and raced toward the staircase, breaking into a run at the top of the stairs with the cockpit key in hand. She found the door unlocked.