“Right.”
“Okay… ah, Steve, what’s our altitude?”
“Eight thousand.”
“And airspeed?”
“I CAN’T DO EVERYTHING AT ONCE!”
“Hang in there, Steve. You’re doing fine. You’re not going to lose it. She can fly on one engine if necessary.”
“I know that.”
“Now I do need you to glance at the airspeed.”
“Ah… two hundred and… ah… five.”
“Okay. Don’t let it get under a hundred and sixty until I tell you.”
“What do I do?”
“You tell me if I get too slow and I’ll push up the power.” Dan turned partially to his left. “Mr. Walters? Are you still there?”
John Walters’s voice reached him immediately. “Yes!”
“Okay. Can you punch in the coordinates for Da Nang, Vietnam, and give me a heading and distance?”
“I… I think so. Hold on…”
Dan heard the sound of a map being hastily unfolded. “Take it easy, John,” he said, breathing hard. “Just do it methodically.”
The cabin call chime rang again and Dan pulled the handset to his ear.
“Dan. Britta. It’s still burning! A long plume of flame off the left wing, maybe twenty or thirty feet inboard from the wingtip. The passengers are freaking out! It’s getting very red out there, the metal I mean! Can we do something?”
“I’m… trying, Britta. Keep calling.”
He punched in the number for the PA system. “Robert MacCabe… Dallas Nielson… to the flight deck immediately, please. Folks, we’re going to attempt an emergency landing. Strap in.”
Dan could hear heavy breathing from the young boy in the left front seat. “How’re you doing, Steve?”
“I’m holding it, but it doesn’t want to fly straight.”
“Three hundred forty degrees, and about forty miles!” John Walters said.
Dan nodded. “Steve, you’ll need to make a gentle right turn. That’s to the right. Come right to a heading of three hundred and forty degrees. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Once you have it turned, we’ll work on getting the altitude down carefully.”
Dan could hear people bursting in the cockpit door. “Who’s there?”
“What’s left of Dallas, Honey!” Dallas Nielson said.
“And this is Robert, Dan. What’s happening?”
“Okay… here it is. We must have damaged the left outboard engine back in Hong Kong. I think the engine exploded a few minutes ago and probably… peppered the wing with shrapnel. I’m guessing it breached a fuel tank, which is now feeding a fire. We have no choice but to land or ditch. We’re forty miles from Da Nang, Vietnam, where there’s a big runway. I don’t have time to plan this. Dallas? Please sit behind Steve and help him… strap in and make sure he stays under control. Start a gentle descent now, to five thousand feet on a heading of three-forty, and don’t let the airspeed get below one hundred sixty. Robert? In the middle jump seat, please. John? I’ll need you standing for now, and strapped in back in the cabin before we land.”
Dan could hear Dallas talking low and soothingly to Steve Delaney. “Steve, Honey, take a deep breath and stay calm. You’re doing fine.”
“What’s your plan, Dan?” Robert asked, his voice low and urgent.
Dan reached for a leather-bound book of instrument approach procedures and handed it behind him to Robert. “I need you to find the pages for Da Nang. They’re organized alphabetically… look under Vietnam. They’re instrument procedures. I need a runway heading and… John, please make sure the GPS has the precise airfield coordinates.” Dan stopped, lowered his head, and took several ragged breaths.
“Hang in there, Dan!” Robert said, frantically flipping pages.
Dan nodded. “I am. I am.” His head came up again. “Here’s the deal. Steve will physically fly. I’ll follow him on the controls. Dallas?”
“Yes, Baby?” she responded, her eyes glued to the forward instrument panel.
“I’ll need you reading out the heading and… the airspeed. Okay?”
The cabin call chime rang through the cockpit again, and Dan yanked the handset to his ear once more.
“Yes?”
“It’s still the same, Dan,” Britta reported. “Some of the metal is getting cherry red out there! Can’t you do something?”
“I’m trying, Britta. Keep reporting.” He dropped the phone in his lap once more. “Okay, people… if we can’t make the runway, we’re going to ditch. We don’t have long with that fire. Steve? Dallas? Can you see anything outside?”
“It’s black out there, Danny. Still nighttime. I can see lightning up to the left, but… what am I looking for?”
“You’re looking for a large group of lights on the coast, about thirty-five miles ahead. We should still be over water. Da Nang’s runway is north-south, I think. That’s our only chance, but we have to see it to use it.”
“So, I’m looking for city lights?”
“And an airport.”
“Okay. I’m looking.”
“Let’s descend carefully to two thousand feet. No more than one thousand feet per minute descent rate. Dallas, make absolutely sure Steve doesn’t descend through one thousand for now. Go, Steve.”
“All right.”
“Robert? I’ll need your voice calling out descent rate and altitude. Do it like this: down one hundred, at two thousand three hundred feet. Can you handle that?”
“I think so,” MacCabe replied.
“It’s this display,” Dan said, pointing in the direction of his own set of flight instruments in front of the copilot’s control yoke.
“Down eight hundred, at four thousand eight hundred feet now,” Robert said. “That’s the way to do it?”
“Yes. Yes, that’s good. Okay, and John?”
“Yes?” John Walters replied.
“Can you read the attitude indicator? Do you know what that is?”
“No.”
“Dallas? Could you quickly show John Walters how to do that?”
“I’ll try,” she said. Dan could hear her pull the man toward her and begin talking earnestly in his ear.
“Down one thousand five hundred, at three thousand eight hundred feet, Dan.”
“Thanks, Robert. Steve? Slow your rate of descent. What’s your airspeed?”
“Two hundred fifty.”
Dan reached up and pulled back the throttles for engines three and four on the right wing slightly. “I’m reducing power to keep the airspeed in check. Does it want to roll back to the right now?”
“No,” Steve replied.
“Is it flying straight?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Is it slowing?”
“A little. Two-forty-five now.”
“And can you see any lights ahead?”
“Some. But I can’t look at those and at the instruments at the same time.”
The cabin call chime rang again. “Dan? Britta. The fire’s diminishing a bit. I don’t know what you did, but it’s getting better.”
“Maybe airspeed is helping. Thanks, Britta.”
Dan could hear Dallas finish with John Walters.
“John?” Dan asked. “How many miles now?”
“Twenty-eight. We’re on the right heading… dead on,” he replied.
“Okay. Dallas, we’re going to have one shot at this. When we slow down further, that fire is probably going to flare back up. Can you see an alternating green-and-white beacon ahead?”
There was silence for a few seconds from the left before Dallas replied.
“You know, I expect a refund for this flight if I’m going to be a damn crew member!” she grumbled. “YES!” Her voice was tinged with excitement. “I’ve got it, Dan! Dead ahead.”
“All right,” Dan began, taking a deep breath. “We will probably not see the runway lights until the last minute or so. We need to aim for that beacon, but remember, it will not be on the end of the runway. Robert? Have you found that approach sheet in the book?”