“Oh.” Britta glanced over her shoulder at the cockpit, then looked back. “We have an automatic flight system that can literally fly the aircraft to the runway and even stop it. Now, would you please take your seat?”
Dallas was already nodding. “I didn’t ask that right. I know this airplane is automated. I heard the pilot. Autopilot, autothrottles, auto-brakes. But how’s he going to set them up if he can’t see them? Anyone up there helping? Come on, girl. You don’t have to give me the usual airline crap. I’m not licensed to fly airplanes like this, but I know a lot about them, so maybe I should go up there and volunteer to help. Whaddaya think? Good idea?”
Britta shook her head no. “This would not be a good time, Ms. Nielson. Not unless you can fly.”
“The name’s Dallas. So when would be a better time? After we’ve crashed? After we let that poor guy on the PA fly us into the ground because no one was up there to read the instruments for him? Or do they have readouts in braille as well?”
“Brai… what? Certainly not,” Britta replied. “But unless you’re a pilot, you have no business on the flight deck at this critical moment, and we already have someone up there with pilot experience helping the copilot read the instruments.” An image of the reporter sitting just behind the unlicensed pilot who occupied the captain’s seat popped into her head. She tried to push the image away.
“I want to at least stick my head in,” Dallas said, “and offer to help be his eyes and double-check whatever the other guy is doing. I know what I’m doing.”
“How? How do you know what you’re doing, if you’re not a pilot?”
“Because I have hundreds of hours reading Boeing seven-forty-seven flight instruments during my years as an engineer, okay?”
Britta felt her mouth fall open. “A flight engineer? Well, good heavens, why didn’t you tell me that before?”
No, Honey, Dallas thought, as a bored broadcast engineer playing video games like Microsoft’s flight simulator, but you don’t need to know that!
“Okay,” Britta said. “Follow me, quickly!” She began to turn, then looked back at Dallas. “But if he asks you to leave for any reason, you must promise right now that you’ll return to your seat instantly.”
Dallas Nielson reached out gently and put her hand on Britta’s shoulder, her voice warm and friendly and low. “Honey, I’m about as subtle as a pig at a tea party, but I’m not the idiot who’s going to distract a blind pilot trying to land a giant airplane that happens to be carrying my ass.”
Britta motioned her to follow as she made her way through the cockpit door. She pointed Dallas to the lefthand jump seat behind the captain’s position and quickly explained to the copilot why Dallas was there, then turned to leave.
“You can read the instruments?” Dan asked Dallas.
“You mean like the Attitude Deviation Indicator, the HSI, the altimeter, VVI, airspeed, and whiskey compass?”
“That’s an A-plus answer, Ms.…”
“Dallas.”
“Okay. Dallas. Mr. MacCabe, would you let her sit in that seat, please?”
Robert was already ushering Dallas to the jump seat behind the captain’s seat.
“There’s a second jump seat there in the middle, Mr. MacCabe. You have to fold it out from the wall.”
“I see it.”
“Okay, Dallas,” Dan said. “Have a seat and back us up. The fellow in front of you is…” Dan took a long, deep breath before continuing. “… ah… Geoffrey Sampson. Listen to what I ask him, and speak up instantly if we don’t get it right.”
“You got it, Chief.”
Britta had paused in the cockpit door behind Dallas, pleased that the woman had fallen silent and was studying the instrument panels with what appeared to be practiced familiarity. The realization sent a small jolt of hope through Britta’s knotted stomach.
CHAPTER 11
The chief of Hong Kong Approach Control and two of his controllers had been in urgent consultation over how to handle the emergency that Meridian Flight 5 had become. When ready, they would bring the flight in from the west, lined up carefully with Runway 7, the aircraft flying on autopilot and tracking in on the Instrument Landing System radio beams, which could guide it right through an imaginary target box fifty feet over the end of the runway. The expansive new Chek Lap Kok airport near Hong Kong had incorporated the latest electronic equipment, and the ILS system was new and reliable, sending steady radio beams back up the approach that gave pilots precise guidance. Any aircraft flying the ILS within normal tolerances would arrive fifty feet over the threshold precisely aligned with the runway.
The chief had authorized open phone lines to Meridian Airlines’ operations center back in Los Angeles, and had spoken to several American officials, including the American Federal Aviation Administration, as well as officials in the Chinese Air Force. Even the local American Consulate had been fully briefed, since there were American citizens aboard and no one knew if the explosion could be a hostile act. Customs, immigration, the Hong Kong police, the appropriate fire departments, and everyone else on the emergency plan was ready.
No one knew anything about an explosion to the south, east, or west. The blinded copilot’s initial mention of a distant nuclear detonation as the possible cause had touched a spark to a powder keg of official angst and reverberated all the way from Beijing to Washington, D.C. So, too, had the possibility that Meridian 5 had collided with the Global Express business jet that had disappeared from radar before the incident. The increasingly shrill question of what, exactly, had blinded the flight crew of Meridian 5 was a secondary issue to the facility chief, who, more than anything, wanted to see his men guide the 747 to a safe landing.
One of the controllers gestured west. “What do you think his chances are?”
The chief took a deep breath before replying. “Seven-forty-sevens land at our airport every day using their automatic landing systems.”
“Yes, Sir. I understand. But you haven’t answered my question.”
After locking the door to the consulate’s guest suite, Kat shed all her clothes and slipped between the elegant percale sheets of the king-size bed, enjoying the scent of flowers throughout the room. She had just closed her eyes when the phone rang. The consular officer who’d greeted her was on the other end with the news of Meridian 5’s emergency.
Kat sat in stunned silence for a few seconds, holding the receiver. Robert was a target, and now his flight was in deep trouble and might have been attacked.
“I’ll need immediate transportation to the airport,” she said, rubbing her eyes.
There was a brief silence on the other end.
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
The voice on the PA speakers was labored, but clear.
Ah, folks, this is your… pilot. I’m ready to start the approach to Hong Kong. Here’s… what I wanted to tell you. I… have several people up here to help me operate the right, ah, controls, and read the instruments for me. As long as… all the automation works, it will be a gentle landing. I won’t lie to you, though. If anything goes wrong with the automatic system, and I have to take over manually, it could be a rough ride. All I can say is I’ll do my best. And whatever your religious beliefs, a few prayers right now would be appreciated. Please stay seated and strictly follow all instructions the flight attendants give you. They speak for me.