Kate continued, “The pilot, Captain Ralph Kevorkian, had released the flight attendants from their seats, right before the explosion occurred. We can assume they were all out of their seats and preparing the beverage service.” She glanced at a nearby galley and said, “The divers found the coffeemaker in this section turned to the On position.”
I didn’t reply.
She continued, “At eight-twenty-eight, the cockpit voice recorder picks up Captain Kevorkian saying, ‘Look at that crazy fuel-flow indicator there on number four,’ meaning, the number four engine. Then he says again, ‘See that crazy fuel-flow indicator?’ Neither the co-pilot nor the flight engineer responded. Then, at eight-thirty, Boston air traffic control gave Flight 800 instructions to climb to fifteen thousand feet, and the co-pilot, Captain Steven Snyder, acknowledged. Captain Kevorkian then said, ‘Climb thrust. Climb to one five thousand.’ The flight engineer, Oliver Krick, said, ‘Power’s set,’ and those were the last recorded words. At eight-thirty-one and twelve seconds, this aircraft reached 13,760 feet… then it exploded.”
I stayed silent awhile, then asked, “What’s with the crazy fuel-flow indicator?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know. Most pilots say it was a temporary aberration of the cockpit instrument. But it may indicate some serious mechanical malfunction.”
I nodded.
She continued, “The pilot of a small commuter plane at about sixteen thousand feet spotted TWA 800 flying toward him, about twenty-five miles away. He said he thought that the 747 still had its take-off lights on, though they should have been turned off at ten thousand feet. He also said that the light seemed brighter than it should have been, then he realized that the bright light he saw was not a take-off light-the light was near the 747’s number two engine, and he thought the engine could be on fire. He blinked his own lights to alert the 747 and at that moment the 747 erupted in a fireball.”
I thought a moment and said, “That sounds like it could have been a mechanical malfunction.”
Kate nodded, then continued, “At the same time, a passenger on a US Air jet had been looking out his window and saw what looked like a flare rising into the air. About ten seconds later, this passenger saw a small explosion in the area where he had last seen the flare, then a second later, there was a massive explosion.”
I remarked, “That sounds like a missile.”
She nodded again. “This passenger was a U.S. Navy electronic warfare technician.”
I recalled Captain Spruck’s mention of an electronic warfare technician.
Kate said, “One more aerial sighting-two Air National Guard helicopter pilots on a routine training mission. They were out over the ocean, heading due north, back toward their base on Long Island. These guys seem to have been closest to the explosion, about seven miles distance and a few thousand feet below the 747, flying directly toward it. The pilot claims he saw a flare-like streak of red-orange light ascending from west to east, the same direction that the 747 was moving. His co-pilot confirms the same sighting, and in fact, the co-pilot called over his intercom to his flight engineer and said, ‘Hey, what is that pyro?’ A second later, the pilot and co-pilot observed a small yellowish white explosion, followed by a second, almost pure white explosion… then, they described a third, massive fireball… so now we have three, instead of the two explosions that most people saw. But as I say, they were the closest, and they were experienced military pilots who should know what they were seeing.”
I asked, “Did this helicopter go to the scene of the crash?”
“Yes. They were the first to arrive. They circled, but saw no signs of survivors.” She added, “These two pilots later recanted their first report about the streak of light. Then, the senior pilot, after he retired from the Air National Guard, went back to his original story.”
I nodded. It would appear that someone put pressure on those Air National Guard pilots to change their original report.
Kate looked around at the jigsaw puzzle that was once a Boeing 747. She said, “So, at eight-thirty-one and twelve seconds, almost twelve minutes after take-off, something set off an explosion of the fuel vapors in the center tank. The tank blew, and the force of the explosion severed the cockpit and half of the First Class compartment from the fuselage-right here-and the cockpit began falling toward the ocean.”
I stared at the gaping opening where the cockpit should have been, and a cold chill ran down my spine.
Kate said, “When the weight of the cockpit was gone, the center of gravity shifted, and the tail tilted down. The engines were still running, and the decapitated aircraft climbed about four thousand feet… then it began to roll and drop, and the wing tanks ruptured and the fuel ignited, which created the huge fireball that over six hundred people saw.” She paused, then continued, “This sequence of events is based mostly on forensic evidence, and some satellite and radar sightings. However, this is not entirely consistent with what eyewitnesses saw, and this doesn’t totally match the CIA animation.”
“How about the flight recorder?”
“It went dead at the moment of the initial explosion when the cockpit was blown off the aircraft.” She continued, “We really have three sets of facts, and they don’t completely dovetail. The CIA animation says that what the witnesses saw-the streak of light-was the burning fuselage ascending after the explosion. But forensic and satellite evidence suggests that the aircraft didn’t begin burning until it began to fall. As for the stream of burning jet fuel that the CIA said was also mistaken for a rising streak of light, that seems to be overkill. I mean, what did the eyewitnesses see and mistake for a rising streak of light? The ascending, burning aircraft, or the descending stream of jet fuel?” She looked at me. “Or neither?”
“Sometimes,” I said, “you can have too many witnesses. A few dozen people saw Rabbi Meir Kahane shot in public, and after the defense attorneys got through with them, no two people saw the same thing, and the confused jury let the shooter beat the murder rap.” I added, “And then you have the JFK assassination.”
She thought awhile, then reminded me, “You like forensic evidence. Sidney gave you the forensic evidence. Do you like it?”
I replied, “Forensic evidence is the best, but it has to correlate with other facts.”
We began walking back toward the rear of the aircraft, through the left-hand aisle, and I descended the wooden stairs, wanting to get out of the aircraft, which was not only creepy, but incredibly sad.
Kate followed, and we left the hangar and walked into the cool night air where I felt immediately better. I got in the Jeep, and Kate got in beside me. I started the engine, turned on the headlights, and headed back toward the gate.
As I drove, I asked, “What did the CIA have to do with this case?”
“At first, when the bomb or missile theory was hot, they were all over, looking for foreign terrorists.”
I pointed out, “Foreign terrorists, if they’re in the U.S., come under the jurisdiction of the FBI.”
“That’s right. But there are, as you know, CIA people in our organization. You remember Ted Nash.”
“I remember Ted. I also remember you went to dinner with him a few times.”
“Once.”
“Whatever. Why was he interviewing Captain Spruck?”
“I don’t know. That was a little unusual.”
“What did Ted tell you about it over dinner?”
“John, don’t obsess over my one date with Ted Nash. We were never romantic.”
“I don’t care if you were. He’s dead.”
She got back to the subject and said, “After the FBI and NTSB concluded that the crash was an accident, the CIA should have disappeared. But they never really did, and it was the CIA who made that video animation that was shown on TV.” She added, “The unofficial word was that the FBI didn’t want to be associated with that animation.”