Plant Manager: "Damn it. That’ll cost the ratepayers millions. Can’t we hold off for a while, just until the Army Corp weighs in."
NRC: "I cannot do that, sir. Shut down both reactors… now!"
The Plant Manager looked like a defendant who had just been read his death sentence. An unscheduled shutdown would, indeed, cost the company millions, and maybe him, his job.
He turned to the Operator. "Initiate controlled shutdown — Reactors 1 and 2."
CHAPTER 52
It was taking the bad guys quite a while to load the plane. I had counted nineteen buckets in the crawlway. Maybe Bull would get here soon.
I heard John’s voice from above the forward entrance. "Okay. That’s it. Pull the wheel chocks out. Then get that ladder and truck outta here. I gotta get this plane off the ground."
The forward hatch slammed shut.
The first thing John noticed when re-entering the enclosed plane was the strong smell of the mineral oil. He had unlocked the container covers so the contents could more easily spill out on impact.
Although it smelled bad, he knew the mineral oil fumes were not likely to catch fire. He had confirmed that with Farris. Their flash point was simply too high. The smell he could live with — at least as long as he needed to.
He had never flown a B24. His experience was with small aircraft. But he was certain that, if he could get this plane off the ground, he could hit the spent fuel building. When it came to flying, landing safely was the only really hard part. And he didn’t need to be concerned with that.
He could fly this mother.
He stood at the base of the ladder leading up to the cockpit, gripping the railings purposefully. It was against his nature to be a kamikaze. He was a fighter, not one to give up.
But this wasn’t giving up. Not at all. The cancer would take him soon anyway, and then how could he avenge his family’s suffering? This was definitely not giving up. This was achieving his life’s goal. Fulfilling his purpose. Finally the government and the nuclear establishment would pay for what they had done to the Siglers, and many others, at TMI.
He mustered his resolve and set to the business of getting the plane on its way toward his destiny.
Lowering himself painfully into the pilot’s seat, he immediately saw something was wrong. The rudder pedals were both missing. He checked the copilot’s station. Gone from there, too.
Shit! They took off the fucking pedals. Now what? He couldn’t fly the plane without the damn pedals. He didn’t know what to do. Shit!
As he was trying to decide, he heard the butt of a rifle banging on the side of the plane.
"You in there. Show yourself."
A man’s voice he didn’t recognize. A foreign accent of some kind.
This couldn’t be true. How could the police have found out so quickly?
"We are friends," the man called. "We have the parts you need."
A trick? Or a miracle? He might as well find out. He wasn’t going anywhere the way things were right now.
He climbed out of the pilot’s seat and crawled agonizingly up the ladder to the top hatch. He took a deep breath of the oily air and opened the exit.
Outside, he could make out a man dressed from head to toe in black — his face also blackened with military grease. His uniform was muddy and soaking wet. In one hand, he held a black automatic rifle — in the other, two missing rudder pedals.
"Here are the parts you need. Do you require assistance attaching them?"
John did not understand what was happening. But he knew he wanted the pedals.
"No. I can do it. Can you throw them up, one at a time?"
The soldier put down the rifle and tossed John the pedals.
"Now put them on and get moving. We cannot wait for more infidels to arrive."
John glanced left and right, seeing two more of the black-faced soldiers.
"Thank you," John managed.
He disappeared back into the plane and closed the hatch. Once he was back in the cockpit, attaching the pedals was easy — just four, keyed pins. Praise God! He was back in business.
CHAPTER 53
When I heard the cursing coming from the cockpit I had to chuckle to myself. As serious as this drama was, one had to appreciate when a good idea worked out. They’d captured the plane, but now they couldn’t even fly it.
Then I heard a banging on the left side of the fuselage. Who was this? Bull? Gunner?
Then I heard the really bad news. Someone else was outside the plane. A man with a thick Arabic accent — and they had found the missing parts. Who were they? And why hadn’t the crew taken the parts to Red Wing?
Damn!
Maybe this would still slow them up enough for Bull and the cavalry to get here. I sure hoped so. It looked like my Plan B had been thwarted.
John had found an abbreviated starting checklist for the B24 on the internet, and had memorized it. He had also memorized the cockpit layout. He ran through the starting procedures in his head as he executed them in the real B24 cockpit.
— Turn fuel supply to ‘ALL.’ Check.
— Turn on Master Trim Panel switch. Check.
— Set cowl flaps to the ‘FULL OPEN’ position for Engine 3. Check.
— Turn Master Ignition Switch to ‘ON’ position. Check.
— Set magnetos for Engine 3 to ‘BOTH.’ Check.
— Turn on the boost pump for Engine 3. Check.
— Set the mixture for Engine 3 to ‘FULL RICH.’ Check.
— Make sure fuel pressure is 15 psi. Check.
— Open the throttle slightly. He shoved the throttle slide for engine three ahead a bit. Check.
— Press and hold the engine ‘START’ switch until the engine starts. He pushed the button and held his breath. The propeller on engine 3 began to turn over. Soon engine 3 burst to life. He waited a moment to be sure it was running smoothly, then throttled it back to idle speed.
— Turn on the ‘GENERATOR’ switch for Engine 3. Check.
All he needed to do was repeat this procedure for engines 4, 1 and 2, in that order. This was easier than he had feared.
Soon he had all four engines running smoothly.
He took a deep breath and released the brakes. The plane began to roll slowly forward. To turn he would adjust the engine speed on whichever side he needed to move faster — left turn, more speed to engine 4; right turn, more speed to engine 1. Rotating the yoke in the cockpit would also encourage the turns.
Steering in this manner, he worked his way toward the end of Runway Number 9. Tonight he would be taking off headed down river. He would have preferred to go west, up the river and directly to the nuke. But the wind was from the southeast and he needed to take off into the wind. It was unavoidable. And it would only add a couple minutes to the flight.
As he approached the end of Runway 9, he swung the big bird wide, turning 180 degrees. He was now pointed down the runway and into the wind. He held the brakes.
Takeoff Procedure:
— Cowl Flaps: 1/3 Open. Check.
— Flaps: 10 degrees down. Check.
— Fuel Mixture: Set to ‘FULL RICH.’ Check.
— Elevator trim: 2 degrees nose-up. Check.
— Rudder trim: 3 degrees right. Check.
— Aileron trim: Neutral. Check.