Britta instinctively shut the door behind her, letting her eyes adjust to the subdued light. She could see Pete in the captain’s seat, but something was wrong. He was slumped to the left with his head lolled back.
“Dan?” Britta said. “What’s going on?”
“Check Pete! Check him. Now!”
Britta’s mouth felt dry as she turned to the captain. A stab of fear ran through her mind as she realized his eyes were open. She reached for his neck and felt for the carotid artery as she would before administering CPR, but there was no pulse. She moved his head, and it rolled lifelessly to the other side.
“Oh my God, Dan! He’s not breathing! I can’t find a pulse!”
“Can you get him out of the seat and do CPR?” Dan asked.
She turned to the copilot, wondering why he was flying with his head down. “Danny, what’s wrong?”
“I can’t see, Britta. Something exploded in front of us.”
“Oh my God!”
“The plane’s on autopilot. Help Pete! Don’t worry about me for now.”
“You can’t see?”
“Britta! Help Pete!”
She nodded, breathing rapidly. “Okay. Ah, I’ll need help.”
She dashed to the cockpit door and flung it open, her eyes falling on the very person she was hoping to see. Memorizing the names of her first-class passengers had always been a matter of pride for her, and now it was a godsend.
“Dr. Tash!”
The physician and his wife had been watching the cockpit door since she ran inside. His eyes locked on hers as he came out of the seat.
“Right here.”
“I need help! The captain’s injured and not breathing.”
Britta stepped aside to let the doctor rush in. Robert MacCabe followed. “Can I help?” MacCabe asked.
“Probably,” Britta replied.
The doctor was leaning over the captain, his eyes wide with surprise as he ran the same basic checks for pulse and breath. “How do I get this seat back?” he asked.
“It’s electric. The buttons are on the forward left edge,” Dan replied.
Robert moved forward and joined Graham Tash in maneuvering the captain’s deadweight out of the seat, pulling Pete as gently as they could through the cockpit door and into the forward aisle, where Susan Tash was waiting.
“What do we have, Graham?”
“Start CPR, Susan. His airway’s clear. Breathe first. Miss?” Graham said to Britta. “I need the aircraft emergency medical kit.”
She nodded and immediately disappeared back into the cockpit, emerging with the large white metal box. Graham began opening it.
“How can I help?” Robert asked the doctor.
“Check on the copilot for me.”
Several of the occupants of the first-class cabin were on their feet, standing by their seats and watching, unsure what to do. Britta looked up and held up her hand. “Stay calm, folks! We’ll explain in a minute. The other pilot is at the controls.” She knelt alongside Pete and looked at the doctor. “How bad is it?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know yet.” He popped a stethoscope into place and began probing for a heartbeat while Susan finished the first round of breathing.
There was none.
“Is that a crash cart?” Susan asked.
“Not completely,” Graham replied, “but we’ve got a defibrillator.”
Robert MacCabe reentered the cockpit and moved to the copilot’s side.
“Who’s there?” Dan asked, sensing his presence. The question confused Robert. The light in the cockpit was not that dim.
“Ah, Robert MacCabe. Are you okay?”
“No.”
“What — what happened up here?” Robert could see that the copilot’s eyes were squinted closed; his head was down, his face bloodless and contorted in pain.
Dan shook his head. “Something exploded in front of us. The light was unbelievable. I think I’ve temporarily lost my vision to flash blindness.”
Robert felt his heart accelerating. He told himself this couldn’t be happening.
“What’s wrong with the captain?” the copilot was asking.
“You say… your eyes—”
“I CAN’T SEE! Okay? Are you a doctor?”
“No, but there’s one working on the other pilot.”
“Then tell me about the captain.”
Robert felt his head swimming. He glanced back toward the door at the rear of the cockpit. “He’s… we’re giving CPR. He’s not breathing.”
Robert heard an agonized noise from the occupant of the right seat. The man was breathing rapidly, obviously in deep pain. “Let me get the doctor up here.”
Robert turned to go but Dan stopped him. “Hey! Are you a pilot?”
“No.”
“Any aviation experience?”
“I’m sorry, no.”
“Okay. If they find another pilot, get him up here immediately.”
Robert left the cockpit with his stomach in a knot and his mind in complete confusion. What could have exploded? A missile? Maybe that was it. What was the political situation? Suddenly he couldn’t recall, but the possibility they were under attack by China flitted through his mind.
What else could flash-blind a pilot? he wondered, the answer coming with nightmarish implications. Oh my Lord, a nuclear blast could do it. But why hadn’t there been a shock wave? Wouldn’t that have torn them apart? Maybe not, he thought, if the explosion was several hundred miles away, or the detonation was small. But we could all be doomed from radiation exposure.
Robert was standing just outside the cockpit door. “Ah, the copilot… says he can’t see, Doctor. He needs you up there.”
Graham Tash looked up and caught Robert’s eye. “Just a second.”
Robert nodded and disappeared back into the cockpit as Graham looked at his wife. “Okay. CLEAR!”
“Clear!” she echoed.
Pete’s body convulsed once. Graham threw the paddles down and jabbed the stethoscope in his ears as he leaned over the chest.
He straightened up and shook his head. “Keep going!”
Susan Tash began pumping again immediately as Graham scrambled to his feet and raced into the cockpit. Robert stepped aside and the physician introduced himself.
“Let me look at your eyes!” Graham ordered.
Dan lifted his head toward the doctor’s voice. “It hurts so bad, I don’t know if I can open them.”
Graham leaned down, positioning his thumbs to open the left eye. “Try to relax the eyelid if you can.”
“I’ll try. OW-W! The light! That’s horrible!”
Graham let the eyelid close. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to find some painkiller for you as soon as I can. I’ve got to get back to the captain.”
“How bad are my eyes?”
“I don’t know. Not like the captain. You’ve been flash-blinded by something, but the damage is internal.”
He moved toward the cockpit door, but the deadly urgency in Dan’s voice stopped him.
“How long to recover?” Dan asked. “For flash blindness, I mean?”
Graham Tash shrugged. “I don’t know. Up to a few days, maybe. Best guess.”
“Doctor,” the copilot began. “With the fuel we’re carrying, we don’t have days. We have, at best, about eight hours.”
CHAPTER 8
Rick Barnes had been slow to get out of his first-class seat when he saw the captain dragged out of the cockpit. The CEO of Meridian Airlines finally overcame his shock and forced himself to put down his Bloody Mary and stand up to offer help to the female passenger in the yellow dress who was giving CPR. He prayed she wouldn’t take him up on the offer — since he’d never taken a CPR class.