The plane rumbled and bumped like a lumber wagon all the way down the taxiway. At takeoff, we could hear the engines wind up to full throttle. Despite the sound protection, the engine noise was even more impressive from inside the plane than it had been alongside the terminal.
The runway proved as bumpy as the taxiway. But then we lifted off, and the whole plane felt different. The ride was still bumpy and incredibly noisy. But you no longer felt kidney punched every two seconds.
We climbed slowly, periodically banking slightly to the left, presumably to remain in the airport’s vicinity. A couple minutes into the flight we had leveled off. The horn sounded.
The passengers hastily unstrapped and began moving around. Most wanted to see out the open, side windows, or sit in a gunner’s seat. Some chose to venture through the crawlway to the front of the plane. Some of those in the front came to the back.
I wasn’t there for the ride… though it was an interesting experience. I preferred Bull’s Diamond DA40. But this ride was smoother, actually, than I had expected.
After about twenty minutes, the horn sounded again. Everyone scrambled to return to their seats as if their lives depended upon it. I knew the pilot would allow plenty of time for everyone to sit and buckle up before final landing approach.
I retook my original seat and fastened my belt. After everyone was strapped in, the crewman poked his head through the crawlway to make sure that was the case. He gave us a thumbs-up or thumbs-down motion. We all responded with a thumbs-up.
Soon I could feel the plane turn right and begin to descend. The descent continued. A left turn this time. Further descent, then another left turn. I could feel the landing gear drop down. We should be headed for the runway at this point. There were some thumps and a shudder as the huge plane touched down. We were safely on the ground. No need to ditch today. Whew!
After we had taxied to a stop near the terminal, the crewman reappeared and opened the plane’s rear hatchway, pulling the door up and in. Stairs with a railing appeared outside the opening. The crewman collected headgear and thanked each passenger as he or she filed out. They all seemed pleased to have survived. And they had a tale to tell. The day they flew in a B24.
After the last of the other passengers had left, the crewman turned to me.
"We’re going to gas ‘er up so she’s ready for takeoff in the morning. We’ve also got some post-flight inspecting to do. So plan on hearing some bangin’ around for a while. If you need to get out, this rear hatch is the easiest way. We’ll leave the stairs for you if you like."
"Thanks. But I’d rather you didn’t. I do have one favor to ask, though?" Seemed like I’d been saying that a lot lately.
"What’s that?"
"I know you and everybody else probably think I’m crazy. But I have reason to believe someone will try to steal your plane tonight."
"I understand that’s why you’re here. And what is your favor?" He was trying to be accommodating.
"I would appreciate it very much if you could somehow disable this plane so, in the unlikely event that some unauthorized person should get inside, it would not be possible to take off."
The crewman thought for a moment.
"Okay. I don’t expect any attempted theft. But it’s easy enough to make ‘er unflyable. I’ll see to it before we leave."
"Thank you so much." I was relieved that he had acceded to my request.
"No problem. Enjoy your night."
With that, the crewman closed the rear hatch, and disappeared through the crawlway to the front of the plane.
I had might as well get comfortable. I couldn’t really set up until everyone was off the plane. I did retrieve my bag from stowage and checked to make sure the contents had survived the flight. They looked okay. I would check more thoroughly later.
I stayed where I was while the crew jockeyed the plane to the fueling station and gassed up. Not until they had parked the bomber for the day did I begin my preparations for the night’s possible activities. As the crewman had indicated, I continued to hear crew voices and various thumps, clangs and rattles as they went through their post-flight routine. But so long as the plane wasn’t moving, I could work.
I had to assume this plane would be crashing into the Prairie River Plant tonight. Any other assumption made my presence here useless. I also had to assume it would be carrying quite a bit of potassium, for the same reason.
The first order of business was to determine where the potassium would be placed.
If I were the terrorists, I would want it near the front of the plane, so it could easily spill out into the spent fuel pool. I worked my way forward through the crawlway, bent over, but still barely able to walk in the confined tunnel.
At the front end of the crawlway I could see the cockpit ahead. The cockpit entrance was at the same level as the platform on which I was now kneeling. Between me and the cockpit, on a lower level, were the navigation station to the right, and a set of stowage cabinets to the left.
I climbed down the ladder into the small space between the station and the cabinets. Slightly forward of my position was a second steel ladder leading to the main access hatch on the top of the plane — ahead of that, a third ladder leading up to the cockpit.
Although I didn’t know what sort of container or containers the potassium would be in, I suspected there would be quite a lot of it. The space where I was standing was not only too small, but there was also a rigid bulkhead between me and the front of the plane. This bulkhead would block the release of potassium from this area during a nose-down crash. It would not be a good spot for the cargo.
The cockpit was too small.
As I surveyed the remaining options, I decided that the crawlway itself was the perfect location. It was at the same height as the glass cockpit. There was nothing between the crawlway and the cockpit entrance that would hinder the potassium flying or spilling into the cockpit and beyond. And the crawlway was easily accessible for loading, both from front and rear.
Having learned what I could in the front section of the fuselage, I worked my way back through the crawlway tunnel to the aft section and down the stairs. There was plenty of room for the potassium back here. But both bomb bays, right and left, would impede movement of the chemical to forward areas when the plane crashed. This would not be a good location. But one never knew how smart one’s adversaries would be. I had to be prepared for the potassium to be located here in the rear as well.
Where to hide? I needed a location to await the terrorists, elude detection during loading, and still be able to emerge when necessary. I looked around.
The bomb bays on the B24 were unique for their time. The interior hatchways opened like a roll-top desk, with the door rolling up into the top of the bomb bay itself. I decided to try the port door. I rotated the latch a quarter turn and lifted. By god, it opened!
It was pretty dark inside. I went to my bag, took out a small LED flashlight and shined it into the darkness of the bomb bay. No bombs. That was no surprise. There was, however, a conveniently smooth section of lower bomb bay door where I could set up shop. The spot was perfect — unless the bad guys decided to open the bay doors during flight, in which case I would be exiting the aircraft rather abruptly.
I grabbed my duffle and rummaged inside for a coil of electrical wire. Then I opened the rolling door as far as necessary for me to reach the interior latch. I wrapped that latch securely with the wire. I needed to be able to close the hatch door once I got inside the bomb bay. If the door rolled too far up and open, I wouldn’t be able to reach the latch without the wire.
I tossed the rest of the coiled wire into the bay. Then I opened the rolling hatch door far enough to allow me to enter the bomb bay comfortably. Backing in, feet first and on my stomach, I slid down the lower bay door, pulling my duffle behind and above me.