Chapter 1 The Announcement Eric Gates awoke to discover that all the cabin lights had been turned up to maximum brightness. A disparate chorus of creaking seats, coughs and yawns grew louder as the rude awakening gained momentum. He glanced at his Rolex. It was three fifty a.m. They were only due to land in Cape Town in another three and a half hours. And given that the breakfast service was only scheduled for six a.m., it did not seem that their exposure to the light was justified. ‘They’d better have a bloody good reason for this,’ an annoyed female voice said loudly. It emanated from the row directly behind his. ‘Madam,’ an older male voice interjected. The speaker was seated in his aisle but at the opposite window. Eric assumed from his pleated black beard and his Jewish orthodox style of dress that he was possibly a rabbi. ‘Perhaps you’ve forgotten that you are on an airliner. Quite frankly, you should be happy to settle for a poor reason or for no reason at all. But may God forbid that there should be a good reason.’ The remark elicited a round of nervous laughter from other passengers, but no response from its victim. The public address system crackled into life, causing a slight chill to run down the entire length of Eric’s spine. The announcement which followed was one which most airline passengers hoped never to hear. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologise for the interruption.’ The female voice was assured and pleasant. ‘This is a precautionary announcement.’ There was a brief pause. ‘If we have a commercial pilot on board, would you kindly announce yourself to a member of the cabin crew by pressing the service button located in the panel above you. Our co-pilot is unwell and the Captain considers it prudent to have a replacement on standby in the unlikely event of an emergency.’ The stunned silence was gradually replaced by muted conversations. ‘Don’t they usually have two crews on these long haul flights?’ asked the man in the next seat. He had earlier introduced himself as Norman something or other, a retired detective who now free-lanced as a private investigator. ‘I also wondered about that,’ Eric replied. ‘But I doubt they’d make a fuss about one sick pilot if they had two crews.’ Norman spoke fluent English, but with a noticeable Afrikaans accent. ‘Something’s happened, for sure. And they’re not telling.’ Eric’s brows furrowed slightly as he considered the situation. He kept pinching his chin. ‘There’s something else I can’t quite fathom,’ Eric said eventually. ‘Surely they must realise that waking a plane load of passengers, to inquire whether one of them happens to be a pilot, is certain to cause alarm or panic.’ ‘They’d be fools if they didn’t,’ Norman agreed. ‘Then it must have occurred to them too that an inquiry about whether one of the passengers is able to fly wouldn’t be quite so alarming if it were made by the pilot who is actually flying the plane.’ ‘Very true.’ ‘It’s peculiar then that the Captain didn’t make that announcement himself.’ ‘Very strange indeed. Of course, it could be that the Captain has his hands full-’ Norman saw no need to complete his sentence. He was a wiry man in his early sixties. His greying hair and moustache did not detract from his fit, distinguished appearance. The hushed conversations rapidly faded to near silence. Eric could not help noticing several attempts by fellow passengers to portray stoic expressions of calm. Few of these were visited by success. The repetition of the announcement a few minutes later only added to the palpable sense of unease. ‘Hell’s teeth!’ Eric exclaimed under his breath. ‘Did you notice the difference?’ ‘Nope. What difference?’ ‘The first announcement mentioned a commercial pilot. The last simply asked about a pilot.’ Eric frowned. ‘It can’t be an oversight.’ ‘I doubt it,’ Norman said. ‘I’m afraid its time for one of us to actually say what we’re both thinking. Something must have happened to the flight crew. They must need someone to fly the plane.’ He turned towards Eric. ‘You will have to respond.’ ‘I think they are looking for a real pilot,’ Eric replied hesitantly. ‘Well, then they must come over here and say so,’ Norman declared emphatically. He reached for the service button in the overhead panel and pressed it. Eric felt strangely self-conscious as several dozen inquisitive eyes turned towards the two of them. It was not long before a short-haired blonde flight attendant arrived. Her well-rehearsed smile could not disguise a discernable trace of anxiety in her alluring, pale blue eyes. ‘Hello, my name is Michelle Hart. I’m the head flight attendant.’ She glanced at the lit service light on the panel above Norman’s seat and she reached to extinguish it. ‘Which of you is the pilot then?’ ‘Well, if you don’t have anyone else, it’s him.’ Norman pointed at Eric. ‘Last night he mentioned that he often flies 747’s on his computer. He also told me he owns several books on flying airliners.’ ‘Are you speaking about a computer game?’ Michelle’s forehead creased and her smile retreated. However her tone remained polite. It was not clear whether she was annoyed or disappointed. ‘It is really more of a simulation than a game,’ Eric defended. Michelle’s eyes narrowed as she considered him for several moments. The awkward silence prompted Eric to speak again. ‘Look, I don’t wish to waste anyone’s time. I’m not a pilot and I’ve never flown anything except for the aircraft on my computer simulation programme.’ ‘I’m sorry but we are trying to determine whether anyone on board is a qualified pilot who flies real aircraft, preferably like the one we’re on now.’ A hint of condescension marred her otherwise professional tone. Heat rushed to his cheeks. He was acutely aware that this exchange was playing out in front of all the passengers in his section of the cabin. ‘But I will mention your situation to the Captain, just in case,’ she offered. Her polite smile returned. Eric’s jaw clenched tightly. Uncharacteristically, a ready retort to the seemingly patronising remark had escaped him. Michelle departed down the aisle as swiftly as she had first appeared. ‘Man, I’m sorry about that,’ Norman said quietly. ‘I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I thought you were serious when you said that you could fly this plane if you had to.’ He paused. ‘I suppose it was the whisky.’ ‘I suppose I’m not immune to a little spirit-infused bravado,’ Eric replied sheepishly. ‘Well, who knows. They might still call on you.’ ‘Hell, I hope not. I’d prefer to be left with my delusions intact.’ A tense quiet prevailed for a while as everyone waited for some further announcement. It never came. When the main cabin lights faded a few minutes later, most assumed that if there had been a problem, it must have been resolved. ‘Well that’s it then,’ Norman said. And after he emitted an audible sigh of relief, he closed his eyes. Eric was switching aimlessly between the channels on the mini-screen in front of him when he noticed the head flight attendant making her way back down the now darkened aisle. However, what light remained was sufficient to allow him to notice that her eyes remained focused on him throughout her approach. He shuddered involuntarily. Her expression became a little sheepish as she lent over towards him. ‘I mentioned you to the Captain,’ she whispered. ‘He thought you might find it interesting to visit a real cockpit. Perhaps you might care to follow me?’ ‘I thought that visits to the cockpit by passengers have been strictly prohibited since nine-eleven,’ Eric replied nonchalantly. He realised that there was more to the invitation than she had let on, but he could not resist making it a little difficult for her. ‘The Captain retains a final discretion about entry to the cockpit,’ Michelle explained softly. All the while she glared at him expectantly. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, with a face as mesmerising as her slim figure was seductive. He estimated her to be about thirty-three years old, which meant he had a dozen years on her. Although he considered himself to be more average than attractive in appearance, he was in reasonable shape for a man of his age. Yet he could not help feeling particularly ordinary next to her. Although tempted to decline the invitation simply to watch her squirm a little, he decided against doing so. Something was evidently amiss and it seemed increasingly likely that his assistance was required. Whatever it was, it had to be serious. ‘Look here my dear,’ Norman interjected softly. ‘We’re not fools. Perhaps you would do us all the courtesy of telling us what in god’s name is going on. Is the Captain still in charge of the plane?’ ‘Sir, I must ask you to stay calm.’ Michelle whispered. ‘Everything is in order and I can assure you that the Captain is flying the plane. The announcements were purely precautionary.’ ‘What about the reserve crew?’ Norman asked. Eric studied Michelle’s body language carefully as she replied. ‘I’m afraid that we don’t have a reserve crew on this flight due to a scheduling error by head office. Our allocated reserve crew exceeded their maximum flying hours.’ Michelle’s eyes darted to the right for an instant. You’re lying through your teeth, Eric thought. But he did not interject. ‘Surely you’re not supposed to leave without a reserve crew?’ Norman asked. ‘Regulations only require two pilots. Four is purely an additional precaution.’ Norman appeared less than convinced, but he left it at that. ‘I assure you sir, that if the co-pilot does not recover by the time we need to land, the Captain will be perfectly capable of landing this aircraft on his own.’ ‘Well, as reassuring as it is coming from you, why has the Captain himself not said as much?’ Norman asked. ‘Precisely because there’s nothing to be concerned about. I assure you that, if there was any cause for concern you’d have heard from the Captain by now.’ # To the cockpit Eric followed Michelle down the aisle. He drew close enough to speak without being overheard. ‘You may have convinced my fellow passenger, but you haven’t convinced me.’ ‘What do you mean?’ she asked coolly. ‘I am a trial attorney. You lied back there. I could tell.’ Michelle’s deadpan expression gave way to one of resignation. ‘Everything will be explained shortly,’ she whispered. As they progressed down the aisle, Eric became acutely aware of the gentle rumble of the four enormous Rolls Royce jet engines as they combined to propel the Boeing 747-400 airliner through the night sky at high velocity. Ordinarily, it was a sound which he found to be strangely comforting and almost musical. Tonight, however, he felt acutely aware of, and strangely overawed by the sound of the raw power of those engines. ‘Is he a pilot?’ a young stewardess asked expectantly as she approached from the opposite direction. ‘Only a computer pilot,’ Michelle replied softly. ‘Has anyone else come forward?’ ‘Nobody at all.’ The young stewardesss shrugged and released an almost inaudible sigh as she did so. Eric felt a surge of adrenaline coursing threw his veins. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to deny the fate which seemed to lie immediately in store for him. He was being summoned by destiny and it filled him with a sense of dread. Michelle’s pace increased appreciably. They lost no time in alighting the stairs to the upper deck. They reached a door marked PRIVATE. CREW ONLY. She used a key to open it and gestured that Eric should enter. Once in the crew quarters, they moved through a narrow galley towards the cockpit door. To the right was another door, marked “Cabin” This was obviously were the reserve crew usually slept. A flushing sound emanated from one of the two crew toilets to the left. The door opened and a short haired, fit looking young man in his late twenties emerged. ‘This is our air marshal, Harry Sykes,’ Michelle said. As she turned towards Eric, she blushed. ‘I’m sorry, but I forgot to ask your name.’ ‘Eric Gates,’ he replied as he extended his hand. Harry Syke’s grip was firm. ‘Thank you for agreeing to join us, Mr Gates. We don’t have much time so I’m going to give you the edited version.’ He paused as if unsure where to begin. ‘About an hour ago, our co-pilot vacated the cockpit on the pretext of spending a penny. In fact, he entered the crew cabin and apparently managed to kill both reserve pilots in their sleep. Their necks are broken. No one heard anything. A very professional job, the likes of which I’ve never seen before.’ ‘You’ve got to be joking,’ Eric declared before he could stop himself. Harry ignored Eric’s remark and continued. ‘Afterwards, he returned to the cockpit, and proceeded to attack the Captain using a screwdriver. As luck would have it, our Captain is a former special forces officer. He is well capable of holding his own. The co-pilot was killed after an almighty scuffle in the cockpit. But the Captain suffered two puncture wounds in his abdomen. He is in the cockpit, in a serious condition, and is being attended to by a doctor who was fortunately on board and was known to Michelle here. The cockpit is a bit of a mess. We’ve managed to clean up a bit, but there was a lot of blood. The worst of it all is that the cockpit has suffered significant damage.The autopilot is not working.’ He paused. ‘The Captain is flying manually, but we don’t think he will stay conscious for very much longer. The doctor has managed to stop the blood flow from the two entry wounds, but he suspects that the Captain is bleeding internally, which of course requires surgery.’ ‘Hell’s teeth,’ was all Eric could manage. ‘The Doctor wants the Captain out of the cockpit before he loses consciousness. With some medical attention, a little rest and a whole lot of luck, we might be able to have him back in the cockpit later so that he can land the plane. We need someone who can handle a 747 in manual flight from now until we need to descend. That’s the plan anyway,’ Harry paused. ’But to be frank with you, Mr Gates, I very much doubt that the Captain will be conscious for the landing, to say nothing of doing the actual landing. We’ve asked if there are any pilots aboard. Simply put, you’re all we have. A computer game pilot I understand.’ ‘A flight simulator, rather than a game,’ Eric explained. ‘Well, Mr Gates. I’ve been in there and all those buttons lights, levers and displays scare the living shit out of me. If you know what some of them do and if you have some idea about how to fly and how to land, then it seems to me that we should consider ourselves lucky that at least we have a fighting chance of surviving this. Whilst that may not be much, these are better odds than we thought we had ten minutes ago. Now, let’s get you into the cockpit and have you introduced to the Captain.’ ‘Just a minute, Mr Sykes…’ ‘I insist that you call me Harry.’ ‘Only if you call me Eric. Harry, I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job, but it is more than a little concerning that you seem to have overlooked the possibility that the co-pilot may not have acted alone. Who is to say that I’m not with him and that once I get the chance, I won’t simply continue executing the, evil plan, for want of a better expression… to crash the plane or something.’ ‘We’re pretty certain that the co-pilot was acting alone. I doubt that he would have risked taking on the Captain alone if he could have summoned a team member to help guarantee a successful take-over of the cockpit?’ Harry opened his jacket and revealed a firearm he carried in a concealed holster. ‘But you are correct, of course, it does remain an outside possibility that he was not alone. Rest assured I am ready for any attack from anyone else. They will need to be very lucky to get past me.’ ‘That doesn’t explain why you seem to have excluded the possibility of my being involved.’ ‘Common sense, really. You said you were a flight simulator pilot. If you were involved, you’d pose either as a passenger or a pilot. If the plan was for you to pose as a pilot for any reason, it would make no sense for you to pose as a flight simulator pilot, since we’d only use someone like you as a last resort... if no other pilot came forward.’ Harry smiled apologetically. ‘No offence intended.’ ‘None taken,’ Eric replied. ‘There is of course one other thing.’ ‘And what might that be?’ ‘As I have already explained, we’re not really in any position to turn away anyone who may be able to fly this plane.’ Eric had often dreamed of flying a Boeing 747-400. Ever since he was a young boy, he had watched these massive, yet elegant aircraft landing and taking off from the viewing decks at Cape Town international. On these occasions he had often felt overcome by an irrational, aching desire to be at one with one of the most beautiful creations he had ever seen. But now, as he stood in front of the cockpit door of a real Boeing 747-400 airliner, he realised that this situation was far removed from that dream. This was a veritable nightmare. He instantly found himself wishing for a button on his computer keyboard - the escape button. By pressing this button only once, a problematic simulator flight could be interrupted and reset at will. Of course, he knew all too well that no such button lurked anywhere on the other side of this door. # Enter the cockpit As the cockpit door opened, a small bespectacled man in his early fifties emerged. ‘Dr Barker, this is Eric Gates.’ ‘I hope you have some idea about what to do in there,’ the Doctor said to Eric in a tone which was neither friendly nor confrontational. ‘How is the Captain?’ Eric enquired, changing the subject. He had no appetite for adding the misgivings of others to the weight of his own doubts. ‘Not at all good, I’m afraid. It’s internal bleeding, I suspect. He’s not going to stay conscious for long so you’d better get in there.’ Eric permitted the doctor to pass and he entered the cockpit thereafter. ‘Good morning, Captain, I’m Eric Gates.’ The Captain, who appeared to be in his early fifties, was seated in the left seat. He had one hand on the steering column and he was flying manually. His shirt was covered in blood splatters and the lower right side of it was completely blood-stained. Blood smears and spatters all over the cockpit bore testament to a struggle and a cursory attempt to wipe away the worst of the bleeding. ‘Hello Eric,’ the Captain turned to face Eric for a second before returning his attention to the displays in front of him. ‘I’m Mike Langford. Call me Mike.’ The Captain’s eyes’s were sunken and his face appeared pale and strained. ‘Permission to take the right seat, Captain.’ ‘Carry on,’ the Captain replied. Eric complied. He spent a few moments examining the readings cockpit’s display panels. He was relieved to see that everything looked decidedly familiar. He felt that the Captain’s attention was divided between observing him and the task of flying the aircraft. He could hear the latter breathing slowly, heavily. Eric switched from scanning the instrument panels to inspecting the damage. He ran his right hand through his short dark hair as he did so. ‘Is there any other damage apart from that to the autopilot console, the flight management computer, and the co-pilot’s radio stack?’ ’That’s about the sum of it. It occurred during my altercation with the co-pilot. You’ve been briefed by Harry or Michelle I assume.’ ‘I have,’ Eric replied as he inspected the autopilot console more closely. The entire panel had been smashed inwards. He rubbed his chin as he considered the damage. ‘If you ask me, it rather appears that the damage to the auto pilot is deliberate rather than fortuitous,’ Eric said eventually. He turned to examine the Captain studiously. ‘He tried to execute a backhand jab at me with the screwdriver. He missed. Hit the autopilot. As for the flight management computer, I think my knee did that.’ Eric considered the explanation. The location of the autopilot on the dashboard, and flight management computer’s location on the centre console between the two seats did not exclude the possibility of Captain’s version being true. ‘If you’re asking yourself whether he intended to damage the autopilot, the answer is I don’t know. The fact is that the automated flight systems we had have been destroyed. And in case you’re wondering whether I am behind any of this, your assistance would be superfluous to requirements if I was involved.’ ‘True,’ Eric responded. ‘Now I’ve managed to disconnect the auto-pilot master but I cannot exclude the possibility of an electrical short in the mess behind that panel. It could cause one of the autopilot systems to re-engage.’ He paused to catch his breath. ‘It occurs to me that your familiarity with the location of the autopilot and the flight management computer may be due to your being accustomed to flying airliners on your computer using only those systems. I hope that is not the case.’ ‘Of course, I do use the autopilot, especially on long haul flights, as in the real world,’ Eric conceded. ‘But I’ve also flown the aircraft without it.’ ‘How do you control the aircraft’s ailerons and its elevator on your computer?’ ‘I have a force feedback joystick which is supposed to mimics real world handling and response. The joystick also features a number of additional controls on it, flaps, throttle, trim, landing gear, rudder. The remaining controls are regular keyboard keys which can program to do any number of tasks.’ ‘And how much do you know about flying a 747?’ ‘Well, I started with built in lessons for light aircraft and worked my way up to the 747. I had to purchase books written by real world pilots on flying big jets because there were no built in lessons for airliners in the earlier version of the simulator.’ ‘Books have their place but they are of limited value without hands-on instruction from experienced people,’ the Captain replied. ‘All I can say, is that despite being able to fly small commercial turboprop planes like the KIngair quite competently, the airliners were a problem at first. I often landed short of the runway, overshot and even stalled. This was despite using the programme’s checklists. Then I purchased the books on flying the big jets.’ I studied the principles and applied them. I quickly discovered what I’d been doing wrong. My flying improved and eventually I figured out how to fly and to land big jets.’ ‘What were you doing wrong?’ ‘Well, the secret to flying a big jet is to stay ahead of the jet. Anticipate things before they happen, and react to deviations from your intended flight path immediately as they happen. If you don’t you’ll lose control.’ ‘Why?’ ‘I learnt that on account of their size, big jets will initially resist inputs from flight controls to correct a deviated flight path in favour of continuing along the deviated flight path. This deviation is aggravated by the higher speed of a big jet and the time delay jet engines take in spooling up or down from one power setting to another. I had to learn to react to the smallest deviations in the approach flight path as they happened and to make small subtle corrections continuously to avoid coming in to low or to high and to avoid stalling.’ He noticed the Captain wince as he mentioned stalling. The Captain continued to split his attention between scanning the instruments and watching him intently. ‘It was difficult at first, but the books also explained ideal power settings, pitch, and airspeed for different landing weights and flap settings. Using what I’d learnt, I soon found myself landing the 747’s effortlessly.’ He paused. The Captain focused on the flight displays during an ensuing silence. ‘I realise that its only on a computer, but the books are written by real world big jets pilots and they worked for me.’ ‘I’m not knocking what you’ve learnt. This aircraft handles magnificently in trained hands. However, if you don’t know precisely what you are doing, its easy to lose control and this can end in disaster.’ The Captain breathed deeply and paused. He winced. ‘But If you’ve learnt how to stay ahead of a big jet, that at least is a good thing. As you will have realised, that is not a concept you can easily explain to light aircraft pilot expect him to grasp it immediately.’ He paused to cough. ’I dread asking, but how do you configure the 747 for final approach?’ ‘If the fuel weight is under 40 000 pounds, as I expect it to be, I use 140 to 150 knots, flaps 25 and pitch at around 0 to 3 degrees. Given adequate runway length at Cape Town, I set the auto break to position one and the spoiler is armed. Thrust is usually around 40-45% N1, depending on landing weight and wind.’ ‘Descent rate on final?’ ‘Around 600-700 ft a minute, slowing to 500 feet a minute or thereabouts for touchdown. Never exceeding 6 degrees nose up. Fly the plane onto the runway, don’t hold it off.’ The Captain’s eye’s closed for a seconds. ‘Hmmm,’ the Captain responded thoughtfully. Eric was unable to determine whether this constituted approval. ‘Are the airports in your simulator like the real ones to any extent?’ ‘The same. The frequencies of the navigational beacons are also the same.’ ‘How do you know?’ ‘I have books and maps and approach charts for Cape Town international and South African Air Traffic Control. It’s all the same.’ ‘And you’ve landed the 747 at Cape Town before on your simulator?’ ‘Often. It’s my home airport. So I used it often.’ ‘How does simulator deal with weather. Cross winds on landing, for example?’ ‘You can set the weather as you like or you download real world weather. I’ve often landed in real world weather conditions in Cape Town.’ ‘How would you deal with a North Wester on runway zero one, gusting from 15 to 25 knots?’ ‘Runway 01’s heading is 009 degrees. I’d use Left wing low technique with a little opposite rudder, swiching to the crabbing technique shortly prior to touchdown, perhaps with a modicum of increased thrust on the right. I’d also increase landing speed by 5 knots being half the difference between the high point and low point of the gust.’ ‘Do you know your way around the dash-400’s glass cockpit displays?’ One again, the Captain had changed the subject without commenting on Eric’s response to the previous question. ‘Yes, these displays are much the same as on the simulator,’ Eric replied. To reassure, the Captain, Eric pointed towards one of the panels. ‘This is the primary flight display. We are at flight level 370, our speed is 0.84 Mach, and our heading is 178 degrees. We have 3.25 degrees nose up pitch.’ He paused. The Captain did not say anything. ’Do you wish me to take control?’ Eric inquired. He could see that the Captain was tiring. ‘Very well, you have control,’ the Captain declared. ‘I have control’ Eric replied. The Captain’s declaration and Eric’s response was standard practice when one pilot handed over control to another in a cockpit. This ensured that both pilots understood that control had been relinquished by one and assumed by the other. Eric placed his hands on the right hand control column. As he did so, the aircraft hit turbulence and it lurched forward. Eric gently pulled the column towards him to prevent the plane from descending. His input was not subtle enough though, and the aircraft commenced a gentle ascent. The Captain hands drew closer to the left hand column without actually intervening. He watched intently as Eric moved the control forwards and backwards in ever decreasing increments until the aircraft stabilised. ‘I can’t make out the horizon and I can’t see the stars. High altitude cloud?’ ‘Yes,’ said the Captain. A smile creased his face. ‘You first managed to stabilise her to straight and level flight and only then did you look outside. So you’re accustomed to flying on instruments then?’ ‘Yes,’ Eric responded. ‘That’s fortunate, because you may need to fly on instruments for a while until visibility improves. You may also need to fly an ILS approach. The forecast for Cape Town when we left London was for instrument conditions.’ The captain was referring to the instrument landing system, a system of radio signals transmitted the from threshold of a runway. When an aircraft’s navigation radio was tuned into the frequency of the Instrument Landing system, the aircraft’s instruments would reveal whether a plane was flying above or below the required approach path to land on the runway. The system would also show whether an aircraft was flying to the left or the right of the required path to the runway. This enabled an aircraft to approach a runway in weather conditions where poor visibility prevented a standard visual approach. ‘Yes. I’m familiar with instrument approaches. I practise them often,’ Eric responded. They were interrupted by a sound similar to that of a short wave morse code transmission. It repeated after a few seconds. Eric looked on the Horizontal Situation Display and recognised that the NAV 2 radio needle was pointing towards a new beacon called VMO. It was reflected at 193 nautical miles away at 174 degrees. ‘Are we navigating by VOR radio?’ VOR radio was a FM type directional transmitter with a range of between 188 to 200 nautical miles and which, prior to GPS, was one of the main navigational tools used by pilots. ‘Yes, we have to since the GPS system is out with the Flight management system.’ ‘Shall I make a slight course correction to Victor Mike Oscar then?’ ‘Go ahead.’ ‘Changing course to 174. Would you kindly switch that Nav 2 identifier off.’ ‘Very well,’ said the Captain. He pressed a button on the centre console and the morse code alarm sound ceased. ‘Where is VMO?’ ‘South Angola.’ ‘Routing WB VOR, which is Walvis Bay, Alexander Bay, VOR, and Charlie Tango Victor, which is Cape Town?’ ’Yes, that was my initial intention. ‘Have we declared an emergency?’ ‘No, there’s no Air Traffic Control on our route until we reach Namibia. Luanda Area has been non-operational between 23H00 Z and 05H30 Z for some time now.’ Eric knew that Zulu Time referred to GMT. ‘I have tuned the Comm 1 radio to Namib Control, and the Comm 2 radio to Cape Town Area.’ ‘Given your condition, would it not be wiser to divert to Windhoek? It will save one and a half hours.’ The Captain was having difficulty breathing. ‘To be honest I don’t think I’m likely to make it either way.’ He allowed his words to sink in before he continued. ‘And as man who is possibly dying and who is still the Captain of this aircraft .....I insist on being permitted ... a final wish.’ ‘What is it?’ ‘Promise!’ Eric did. ‘When you take over you must put the welfare of this aircraft ahead of mine. Your choice of airport must be based solely upon which airport you feel you will best be able to perform a solo landing on. Nothing else matters. If it comes to it that your choice should cost me my life, know that nothing matters more to me than this plane, the passengers, and the crew. My condition is an irrelevancy! Do I make myself perfectly clear.’ ‘Perfectly,’ Eric replied. ‘Cape Town has the longer runway and you may need all of it. Also, and without wishing to cast any aspersions on your abilities, we need to consider the possibility that the landing may be less than successful, and yet surviveable. We have three hundred and ninety seven passengers and fifteen crew on board. I doubt that Windhoek has the capacity to deal with a high number of casualties all arriving at once. These are things you will have to weigh up. If I do recover sufficiently to land or to assist, I will accept whatever decision you consider to have been best for us all..’ He paused as his face contorted. ‘There are approach charts for Cape Town in that pocket.’ ‘I won’t require them. Unless something has changed in the last fourteen months,’ Eric adjusted the aircraft’s heading a couple of degrees to the right to correct for drift caused by high altitude wind. ‘Nothing has. But that is what I mean. If you have the airports data, frequencies and approaches committed to memory, it will be of enormous assistance to you, especially since you will probably be flying solo.’ More coughing. ‘Familiarity with the airport means increased confidence and this will free you up to pay attention to flying the plane. ’ ‘What do you think Captain? Do you think he knows what he is doing?’ It was Harry’s voice from the rear of the cockpit. Since Eric had been focused on keeping flying the plane, he had no idea whether Harry had been there all along. ‘To be honest, I’d need at least another twenty minutes to establish that.’ The Captain paused as he started coughing profusely. It was evident that this added to his discomfort. ‘At the same time, it has to be said that we are very very fortunate to have Mr Gates with us. The knowledge he has managed to accumulate on this game of his, and the dedication with which he has done so...’ The Captains voice, which had become weaker, faded away. He coughed again, and then slumped forward in his seat. His safety harness prevented him from falling against his steering column. ‘Doctor, please come in here quickly.’ Harry’s voice seemed to be directed to towards the crew quarters immediately outside the cockpit. Dr Barker slipped into the cockpit and examined the Captain. ‘He is still breathing, thank the Lord. But we will need to get him out of his seat and onto a flat surface so that he can rest up.’ The Doctor turned towards Eric. ‘I assume we don’t need to try to revive him. I assume you have all the information you need from him for now.’ ‘Don’t worry about me,’ Eric responded. ‘Just do what you can to save him.’ Harry assisted the Doctor to move the Captain. The latter was a stocky, tall man and it took some effort on the part of the two of them to extract his unconscious body from the Captain’s seat and to carry him out of the cockpit.
Posted on: Fri, 27 Sep 2013 05:33:22 +0000
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