Ben snapped his attention back to the plane. He scanned the instrument panel and it was only then, to his horror, that he saw the full extent of the damage they had inflicted as they fell upon it. Half the instruments were smashed in, the dials broken. And even if the control panel had been in perfect working order, Ben realized that this was going to be a lot more difficult than flying a microlight. This was a whole different kettle of fish.
'Are you OK, Ben?'
It was Danny who was speaking. From the corner of his eye, Ben saw the hijacker being removed from the cockpit by a couple of other passengers.
'Er, kind of,' Ben answered. 'Look, I don't really know what I'm doing here. I need to try and get the radio working. I need to try and—' As he was speaking, something flashed across the front of the plane. A deafening roar filled his ears. 'What was that?' he shouted.
'I don't know,' Danny replied. 'It looked like a—'
This time it was Danny's turn to be interrupted. The roar filled their ears again, and the cockpit was momentarily cast into shadow as another object shot past their field of vision.
It was only then that the radio sprang into life.
'Flight GXR1689, this is the Department of Homeland Security. Pilot, identify yourself. I repeat, pilot identify yourself. Two F-35 Lightning IIs have entered your airspace with instructions to destroy your aircraft if you do not identify yourself. I repeat, you will be taken out in the next thirty seconds if you do not identify yourself.'
Ben stared at the radio in frozen horror.
'Answer it, Ben!' Angelo shouted, and that was all it took to snap Ben out of it. He grabbed the radio handset and started to yell a response.
'Don't fire!' he shouted. 'Don't fire! We've been hijacked but we've taken back the plane. The pilots are dead. You've got to help me land this thing!'
But even as he spoke, Ben's eyes widened in horror. From either side of the cockpit window he could see the noses of the two F-35s. They were unbelievably close — close enough for Ben to see the pilots with their sunglasses and military helmets — and they really didn't look like they were going away.
Chapter Six
'Pilot, identify yourself.'
The voice at the other end sounded completely unmoved by Ben's outburst.
'My name's Ben Tracey,' he screamed. 'I'm a passenger on the plane. At least I was until about a minute ago. You've got to believe me — I'm not a hijacker. Please! Tell them to pull away! They're too close — I don't know if I can keep this thing straight! If they don't, we could all be history!'
Radio silence. The fighter planes didn't move from their positions.
'We've taken control of the plane!' he screamed.
'They don't need to be there!'
Still silence.
'Listen to me! I'm not a hijacker! I'm just trying to keep this plane in the air, OK?' Terror exploded from his voice.
And then, suddenly, as suddenly as they had arrived, the fighter planes curved off and disappeared. Ben felt a moment of relief, but it didn't last long because the radio suddenly crackled into life again. 'Flight GXR1689, this is Miami International, do you read me?'
The voice sounded urgent.
'Yeah,' Ben replied through gritted teeth. 'I read you. Where have those two planes gone?'
'Back to base. There's nothing they can do to help you now.'
'Right. Well, thanks for getting them off my back.'Like they were there to help me in the first place, he thought to himself.
'Nothing to do with me, son. You must have been pretty convincing. How are you guys doing up there?'
'Oh,' Ben replied edgily, 'you know. Probably could be better.'
'How much experience you had flying a plane, son?'
Ben took a deep breath. 'Just a microlight,' he replied. 'Oh, and a few goes on a computer flight simulator.'
There was an ominous pause. 'That's it?' the voice asked.
''Fraid so.'
'And there's no one else on board with any flying experience?'
'Not as far as I know. I'm afraid you're stuck with me. Sorry.'
Another pause. 'What's your name?'
'Ben.'
'OK, Ben. Everything's going to be all right and you're going to do just fine as long as you follow my instructions carefully. Do you think you can do that?'
'Why don't we just get on with it?' Ben replied impatiently.
'Good idea, Ben. Now listen to me. You know about the hurricane?'
'I think someone might have mentioned it, yeah.'
'You need to stay calm, Ben. I don't want you to panic, but when your plane lost control just now, you changed direction. You're heading straight towards it. You've lost a lot of altitude, so you're going to start experiencing the headwinds very soon. You need to turn the plane back on course. Do you copy?'
Ben realized he was breathing heavily. His stomach had twisted into a knot at what he heard. 'Yeah, I copy. What do I need to do?'
'Can you see the instruments in front of you?' the voice asked.
'Some of them,' Ben replied. 'A lot got damaged when we attacked the hijacker.'
'Is there anything that looks like a compass?'
Ben quickly scanned the instruments in front of him. 'Nothing,' he replied curtly.
'OK,' the voice replied. 'You need to pan to the east.
That'll take you out of the way. You're currently heading—'
There was a sudden burst of white noise. Ben blinked. The radio was crackling and whatever the guy at the other end was trying to tell him was lost in the interference.
'Hello!' Ben shouted. 'Hello! Do you copy?'
But there was nothing other than an ugly-sounding hiss.
It was at precisely that moment that the winds started to hit. The whole plane shuddered with a level of turbulence Ben had never felt before. Vaguely, in the background, he heard people in the cabin shouting, but he tried to put that from his mind as he felt himself juddering in his seat. He gripped the control stick firmly and shouted into the radio. 'Do you read me? Do you read me? I need to know which way to turn!'
There was no reply.
The shaking was getting worse now. Ben knew he had to steer the plane away, but he couldn't tell which direction he needed to go in. A mistake now and it could be an end to everything.
'What's going on?' a voice yelled behind him.
Ben realized it was Angelo, but there was no time to reply. 'Hold on!' he shouted. He felt all his muscles clenching as he started to pull the aircraft into a turn.
They were at an angle now, and the plane was juddering worse than ever. From the corner of his eye, Ben realized that Angelo had been thrown to the floor. There was nothing he could do about it though. He just had to hold his nerve — and the control stick. As the plane was at an angle, he saw the ocean down below from the side of the cockpit window. It made his blood freeze, made him feel like he had left his stomach a mile back. Without any instruments in front of him, he could only guess how long he should keep this turning circle going, so after a few moments, he straightened up, fervently hoping that he had redirected the plane to safety. Safety of a kind at least.
The winds were still buffeting the aircraft, however. Angelo shouted something behind him, but Ben didn't even hear what it was. All his concentration was taken up now by flying the plane, and by wondering if he had made the correct manoeuvre. It still felt like they were being flung around in the air. Maybe they were still heading straight for the hurricane. Maybe he should turn the plane round again. As that thought crossed his mind, though, he nodded his head to himself. If he kept turning, he'd get nowhere: he'd just have to trust his first instinct. He'd just have to keep to his current direction.