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Jake chuckled. “No way am I going to bite on that one, Kat.”

“Smart man. But really, may I press ahead?”

“Absolutely. Screw Langley. What, exactly, do you suggest?”

“I… think I’d better hang right here with this consulate car and driver until the aircraft lands safely somewhere. I’m thinking out loud.”

“Understood. Go ahead.”

“Well, I think if they land in Vietnam or Thailand, for instance, I should probably cancel that meeting at the consulate and catch the first flight to Bangkok to interview the pilot and anyone else who can shed some light on what hit them.”

“I concur. I don’t know how we’ll get the diplomatic clearances, but let’s wait until we know where they’ve come down.”

“Are we getting minute-by-minute intelligence updates from CIA?”

“Actually, Kat, Langley’s relaying the updates from the National Reconnaissance Office. I’ll call you back as soon as we have a resolution.”

“But what’s the latest?” Kat asked. “What’s the aircraft’s status?”

“It’s still flying. Currently they’re approaching the Vietnamese coastline. Langley thinks they have more than enough fuel to make Bangkok, and they seem to be headed almost directly there.”

“Jake, the bogus ‘N’ number tells me this may be a sophisticated operation of some sort. It might be a really good idea if NRO could scan the airspace around that Meridian aircraft just in case Two-Two-Zulu is still in the neighborhood.”

“You mean, could the Global Express still be out there shadowing Meridian?”

“Precisely. If they are, special security arrangements would need to be made the second that seven-four-seven lands, because the Global Express will undoubtedly touch down right behind him. If they’re hostile, the occupants won’t be happy Meridian hasn’t crashed.”

“I’ll relay that immediately.”

“You do understand my concern?” she asked.

She could hear Jake sigh on the other end. “Unfortunately, yes, I do. Whoever’s flying and controlling that business jet is going to be determined to finish the job they started.”

CHAPTER 17

ABOARD MERIDIAN 5, IN FLIGHT,
OVER THE SOUTH CHINA SEA
NOVEMBER 13—DAY TWO
4:42 A.M. LOCAL/2042 ZULU

With the pain in his eyes significantly numbed and young Steve Delaney flying the airplane with surprising smoothness, Dan Wade had dared to hope again. He had sat back and breathed deeply, forcing himself to think clearly, when the jarring sound of a warning bell coursed through his consciousness.

What the…? Oh, Lord! That’s an Engine Fire Warning bell!

Dan turned in sightless frustration to the forward panel, wondering which of the four engine fire switches had a bright red light showing in the handle, a light that would be indicating a fire or overheat in one of the remaining engines.

“Wha… what’s THAT?” Steve Delaney was already asking from the left seat.

Dan could feel the control yoke bobble slightly as Steve reacted to the adrenaline coursing through his system, propelled by the shrill cacophony of the bell.

“Engine fire warning,” Dan replied. “Steve, follow where I’m pointing. Quickly! One of those four handles will have a red light in it. Which one? There’s a big number on the end.”

“Ah… number one!”

Oh Lord, we’ve already lost the left inboard! Now I’ve got to shut down the left outboard.

Dan put his left hand on the engine fire switch for the outboard left engine.

“Am I touching the only handle that’s lighted?”

“Yes,” Steve replied, his voice betraying deep fright.

“Don’t stop flying, Steve. She’s going to want to turn left. Don’t let her.”

Keep your emotions in check! Dan told himself. If you sound panicked, he’ll panic. SLOW DOWN!

“Okay, Steve. We have specific procedures for things like this, and I’m going to ask you some questions first, then we’re… going to handle it.”

“Okay.”

“First, look down at the center instrument panel where I’m pointing. Are some of the engine instruments now showing in red?”

“Yes.”

“Which ones?”

“Number one.”

Dan took a deep breath, trying to muster strength. “Look down that row of instruments and find the one labeled ‘EGT.’ Read me the temperature.”

“Uh… it looks like, seven hundred something.”

“Is that reading going up?”

“Yes. Slowly.”

“Okay, Steve. I’m… going to shut down number-one engine. I’m putting my hand on the lighted handle again. It is vital that I get the correct one. Is my hand on the lighted handle for number one?”

“Yes.”

“You are certain.”

“YES! You’re holding number one.”

“Okay, I’m pulling it and discharging the fire bottle. Did a light come on?”

“Yes.”

Please let that be enough! Dan thought. I’ve only got the one fire bottle left on that side.

There was a sudden, seismic BOOM from the vicinity of the left wing, and the entire airplane shuddered.

Oh, God! It exploded!

“What was that?” Steve Delaney asked in a strained voice.

“Steve,” Dan asked, “did the engine readings on the forward panel for number one all go to zero just then?”

“Yes.”

“Is the red light out in the handle?” Dan asked, holding his breath.

“No.”

It may take thirty seconds. Don’t panic! But if the engine’s gone… “Watch the red light, Steve! Tell me when it goes out, but keep flying the airplane.”

“Okay. DAN, IT’S ROLLING TO THE LEFT!”

“Stay calm, Steve! Roll it back to the right. It will do what you physically tell it to. Look back at the attitude indicator. Make it go back to straight and level. I’m putting in rudder trim to the right, and that will help, too. You’ve got to remember that this airplane will fly fine with just two engines on one side.”

Dan could feel the increasingly staccato gyrations on the control yoke as the boy in the left seat fought the airplane. Dan toggled the rudder trim several degrees to the right to counteract the loss of engine thrust on the left wing, ignoring the fact that the cabin call chime was ringing.

“Is she still wanting to roll to the left?” Dan asked.

“Yes! Not as much now, but I’m… I’m having a hard time holding it.”

“I’m putting in more trim. Does that help?”

“I think… yes, it does. Much better.”

“See the turn and slip indicator? It’s below the ADI — the attitude indicator.”

“I… think so.”

“Is the little ball centered, or off to the left or right?”

“It’s… a bit to the right.”

Dan toggled in more right rudder trim. “And now?”

“Almost centered,” Steve replied, his voice nearly an octave above normal.

“Okay. She should fly straight now. Don’t let that right wing come up on you. All our thrust now is on the right wing, and it’s going to want to roll left. Is the red fire light out?”

“No. It’s still on.”

The call chime rang again, and this time Dan swept his left hand back to scoop up the handset.

“Yes?”

“Dan? This is Britta! Our left wing is on fire!”

“What… you mean, left engine? The outboard engine on the left wing?”

“No, Dan. It’s in that vicinity, but the wing is on fire!”

“Oh, wonderful! Ah… Britta, make sure everyone’s strapped in. Report back to me every three minutes or so on… how bad the left wing is. Okay?”