“Please, let me tell you what I know. I have no other information beyond that.” This brought silence, “Just after the turbulence, we appeared to lose all communication with the ground. We have heard nothing since. We also lost communication with the planes that landed shortly afterwards, although contact is still possible with other planes in the air. All of this is understandable if the traffic control systems and communications are down. The procedure in these situations is to sit tight and try not to panic.”
“Are the planes being diverted to other airports? In that case, why did we land here?” A passenger shouted.
“No other airports are responding. I honestly don’t know what’s happening.”
Passengers continued to fire questions.
“Why did you stop?”
“How are we supposed to get off?”
“What do we do now?”
“I have already said, I’ve only seen what you’ve seen. I am not going to pull up to a gate with a body hanging off it. Without ground crew, any docking procedure would be risky anyway. We’ll wait for one hour. If no help comes, then we can use the emergency slide to disembark.”
“Then what?” Bernie shouted.
“Emergency services on the ground are not responding. We wait for contact before making any decisions. I’ll keep trying all channels of communication and update you all when I have further information.”
The passengers erupted with shouts and arguments. The captain threw his hands in the air and then disappeared back into the cockpit. Feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment, I hopped back into the aisle and slowly followed the procession of passengers back to my seat, a group stayed to labour the conversation at the front of the cabin. Bernie could be heard shouting about terrorism. Perhaps he was right, after all. The amount of coordination for such an attack was mind-blowing, but what else could it be?
Jack was looking at me as I approached our seats. I shook my head, “The communication problem seems to be widespread. There’s no sign of help at the moment, so the suggestion is that we wait.”
“The captain doesn’t know shit, but we’ve got no other choice,” he replied toying with his mobile.
“For now, yes.”
I started to think about how we could get off the plane. If it was a terrorist attack, then why wait for them to come and capture us? We could escape through the perimeter fence and win our freedom. The alternative might involve being on my knees reading out a forced statement to a video camera before being brutally beheaded by men in balaclavas. I had no intention of waiting around for that to happen.
“I’ve managed to connect to a network,” Jack said as he scrolled through Twitter.
“Are there any updates about JFK?”
“Nothing that I can see, I’ll try calling Andy and Dave, then I’ve got something to show you.”
Jack pressed the screen of his iPhone a few times and twice held the speaker to his ear.
“I got voicemail for both of them, but have a look at this,” he thrust the phone towards me, “a tweet I sent in Manchester about flying here, has had quite a few replies.”
@cfieldhouse Welcome to New York, Jack! Please come and help me, I am in a wheelchair and need assistance at the following address…
@atitlow Jack, want to meet up so I can show you some of the best sites in the state? Come to my farm…
@saggyhr Our friend said you were coming over; please visit me at the following hospital…
The tweets continued, but I’d seen enough. Why did all of these strangers want to meet up with Jack? I decided to update my location quickly on Facebook to JFK airport, in case Andy or Dave checked to see if we had arrived, and then switched my phone off. If we were going to spend hours on the tarmac, one of us should at least conserve our battery.
We waited for another half an hour, debating our next moves with a few other passengers in the seats around us. Bernie and I wanted to mount an escape, and Jack was coming around to our way of thinking. We didn’t want to be sitting ducks, whatever was happening outside. Others viewed this as irresponsible behaviour, saying it would only cause more trouble and confusion for Homeland Security when liberating us. The problem was that we had no idea what they might be liberating us from. There wasn’t a soul in sight, at least not one who was alive.
The staff on the plane handed out the remaining snacks, reminding us that we couldn’t stay here forever. There simply wasn’t enough food to go around. So it was a question of how long we would have to wait before something happened. The answer was not long.
A male passenger a few rows ahead of us shouted, “Look, there’s a security guard walking towards us waving his arms!”
Everyone rushed to our side of the plane and watched as the figure got closer. He had a pistol in his hand and was obviously shouting something. Of course, nobody could hear him. He put the weapon in its holster and held his arms out to his sides, smiling up at us.
“Open the emergency exit and let’s hear what he has to say,” Bernie shouted over to the steward, who had previously stopped him from trying to access the cockpit,
At last, we had some contact with the ground, and the man was wearing official clothing. A sense of relief was already rolling through the cabin. Further encouragement was given to the steward, who then mimed that he was going to talk to the captain and went towards the cockpit.
The captain appeared from the cockpit again and met the steward close to the front of the cabin. They held a hushed conversation for a couple of minutes and then both returned to the emergency exit.
The steward struggled slightly with the door, and then managed to open it, giving us our first taste of fresh air since England. The whole plane fell silent.
“What’s the situation on the ground?” The captain called down.
“Come down, everything is just fine,” the security guard seemed to reply, but I couldn’t hear him clearly.
“What’s happened? Are we all safe?” The steward shouted back.
The security guard was nodding and gesturing towards himself. I couldn’t help but wonder why he was on his own. Did he have any support? Not that it mattered, I think we were all prepared to follow his instructions, because he was the first friendly face we had encountered since landing. Who cared if he wasn’t part of a SWAT team?
The captain whispered into the steward’s ear, who nodded, and then yelled, “Stand back. I am going to deploy the slide.”
The security official gave a reassuring smile and stepped to one side. The slide made a hissing noise as it inflated.
“I will help you all at the bottom. Leave all personal items stowed and remove any shoes with heels or sharp jewellery. When it is your turn, just cross your arms over your chest and jump.”
I almost laughed. They even had instructions of how to go down an inflatable slide. The mood wasn’t quite right for laughing though, as we still didn’t have an explanation of what was really going on.
The steward jumped down and quickly slid to the bottom. I watched through the window as the security guard drew his pistol from the holster, aimed at the side of the steward’s head from point blank range, and pulled the trigger. A red spray covered the tarmac to the side of the steward and he rolled off the slide. Screams and shouts filled the cabin as everybody scrambled to get away from the exit door.
The security official didn’t even look up at us. He crouched down next to the steward and casually checked his pulse. Then without even hesitating, he pointed the pistol under his own chin, pulled the trigger, and collapsed to the ground with a twist.
“Jack, what the fuck was that?”
“You tell me. We’ve have to get off this plane, I’m not waiting around for another person like that.”