There was no response on the radio.
He tried again without any success and then gave up.
The captain set up for a gradual descent. “Have you found the coordinates for Oslo?”
“Yeah, but at our current descent rate, we’ll be lucky to make it halfway.”
“All right, we’re probably going to end up ditching in the ocean. I want you and Roger back there to get in your survival suits. It’s a long shot, but if we do have to put down into the water, I want to make sure we give ourselves the best possible chance of survival.”
“Okay, I’m on it.”
Four minutes later, both copilots returned.
The captain looked at Roger. “What did the maintenance system say was going on with our primary flight display?”
“It didn’t. According to its self-diagnostics, the system’s running smoothly.”
“What about the engines?”
“It’s recording high oil pressure in all four engines, and extreme heat in engines 1,2, and 4.”
The captain turned to face him. “There’s high oil pressure in all four engines?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You know what this means?”
“Yes, sir. We’re living on borrowed time before engine 3 gives out.”
“That’s right.”
The fourth engine alarm buzzed.
The captain’s head snapped to the right. His heart raced, and he felt fear rise in his throat. His eyes remained fixed on the warning light. The two copilots stared out the starboard window. It was a pointless exercise. The cloud cover was too dense to allow them to see anything.
“We have an engine fire warning for engine 3, sir.”
“Understood.”
And still, the captain remained silent.
“Sir?” the copilot asked.
“Shut it down.”
“Copy that, sir. Shutting down engine 3.”
The constant drone of the engines ceased, and the cockpit became silent.
The captain said, “All right. We’re committed to a water landing, gentlemen. You’d better strap yourselves in tight.”
“What about your survival suit, captain?” the copilot asked.
The captain smiled. It was sardonic but confident. “We’re out of time. That’s all right. If we survive the landing, I’m happy to take my chances.”
Even as Sam watched the events unfold, he shared the same sense of disbelief as the two pilots — how could a modern Boeing 747 lose all four engines?
The captain dipped the nose until their airspeed picked up. The last thing he wanted to do was stall now. He made firm and decided movements with the control, happy to see the aircraft was still responding to his inputs.
The altimeter started to race counter-clockwise.
“Can you control our descent?” the copilot asked.
“Not a chance in hell.” The captain eased the wheel forward, dipping the nose farther. “Besides, I don’t think the altimeter’s giving us the correct readings.”
“I’ll get out the manual instruments and see what we’ve got.”
“All right, but I think we’ll know for sure any second now, just as we drop below the cloud cover.”
“Is that wise?”
“Not really. But it’s not like we really have a choice, do we?”
The copilot shrugged. “We might slam into some sort of ground terrain.”
The pilot shook his head emphatically. “Unlikely. There’s nothing higher than a cruise ship for more than a hundred miles. We’re good.”
“What if the altimeter’s right?” the copilot asked. “All you’re going to do is send us straight into the sea.”
“It’s wrong. I can feel it.”
“Many pilots have made that mistake before.”
The captain nodded. “All right. There’s a mug in my backpack over there. Can you please pass it to me?”
The copilot unclipped his harness and reached around to retrieve the mug. “What do you want to do with it?”
“Fill it up with some coffee from the thermos.”
“Really?” the copilot cocked an incredulous eyebrow. “You feel like a coffee break right now?”
“Fill it up and sit it in the middle here.”
The copilot looked dumbfounded but did as the captain had asked.
The captain grinned. “The damned thing’s nearly level.”
The Dreamlifter’s nose punched through the cloud cover at a thousand feet, revealing an almost perfectly still sea below.
“Well, I’ll be… that’s really something isn’t it?” the captain said.
“I’ve never seen it so flat!”
In fact, neither had ever seen it so calm.
It was like a millpond. Like the calm before a storm — or within the eye of a storm…
They contemplated the necessity of a water landing. In a few minutes, they wouldn’t have a choice. The pilot set up for a landing and then spotted, there in the middle of the sea, a small island, with a single runway.
The captain set the flaps to their maximum setting and lowered their landing gear.
His eyes swept the primary flight display for their glide ratio. They couldn’t have set up for a better landing had they known about this mysterious island an hour in advance.
“Here we go, gentlemen! Good luck!”
The Dreamlifter raced across the top of the runway, and the captain pulled back on the wheel, until the massive cargo aircraft flared, and settled onto the runway.
The windshield was covered instantly with water.
It was a perfect water landing. The tiny island and runway disappeared like a mirage.
And the FDR video feed ceased.
Sam turned to Tom. “Well. What the hell do you make of that?”
Chapter Twenty
Admiral Shang Jiang stepped out onto the bridge of the recently launched Feng Jian, a Chinese type 003 aircraft carrier of 85,000-tons. She was the crowning jewel in his exemplary career, and his ship had been dispatched to protect the territorial waters of the South Chinese Seas.
The South China Sea Islands consist of over 250 islands, atolls, cays, shoals, reefs, and sandbars. None of which has indigenous people, few of which have any natural water supply, many of which are naturally under water at high tide, while others are permanently submerged.
The Spratly Islands were originally a series of coral islets mostly inhabited by seabirds. There were a series of banks, more than a hundred submerged reefs, forty underwater banks, and twenty-one underwater shoals.
The Feng Jian was specifically assigned to the Fiery Cross Reef, the largest of China’s military bases built upon the heavily disputed seven islands of the Spratly Islands, made permanent by land reclamation. The base on the Fiery Cross Reef was now complete and perfectly capable of looking after itself.
The artificial island was now defended by nearly five thousand permanent defense personnel. The fortifications included twelve hardened shelters with retractable roofs, missile silos, forty combat aircraft, and four long range, Xian H-6 bombers capable of performing bombing raids up to 3,500 miles away. The island itself was one of the most strategically advanced military bases in the world, with an array of manned and autonomous defense systems. An autonomous artificial intelligence system gathered information from the island’s radar and sonar towers, providing the most advanced early warning system and recommended evasive actions.
It was the purpose of this AI military system, more than the artificial island themselves, which had concerned the United Nations, of which China was a permanent founding member.
Admiral Shang Jiang’s hardened face was unreadable. The Fiery Cross Reef was surrounded by shallow waters, which appeared a striking turquoise in the sun. He looked at the disputed islands that he’d been sent to protect with no great pleasure. Despite their paradise-like appearance, he believed the islands had been cursed with disharmony for his people — a scar of pain for the human race.