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  “My name is Gene Clark. The Atlanta regional office has been given the responsibility to investigate the accident, and I am Tri Con’s principal safety inspector. Later today the FBI and the National Transportation and Safety Board will also join the investigation. So far, we have focused on the air traffic control aspects of the flight, and to this point, everything seems to be completely normal and routine. We will be looking into all facets of the operation and soliciting cooperation from each of your groups as we go forward.”

  Tom Hanes, the flight ops vice president, assigned meeting rooms for each of the various teams, and Phil went in search of the Tech Ops group. As he walked down the hall, he passed a large room with a group of civilian-looking people gathered in it. There was a handwritten sign on the door with the words, “Flight Eleven Crew Family Room.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Jenny Kramer suggested that they join the other families at Tri Con headquarters, Pattie had resisted. She did not want to see anyone. Jenny gently persisted by telling her that they should at least visit to see if more information was available. She pointed out that there would be food available also, and Pattie needed to keep her strength up. Secretly, Jenny thought it would be good for Pattie to be with other family members faced with the same uncertainty she was feeling. Pattie finally agreed to go, but only for a short visit.

  When they arrived, a representative escorted them to President Harold Collins’ office. Collins was the exception to the rule in Tri Con management. He had started with the airline as a young man and remained throughout his career, whereas almost all the others in the management team were imported from other companies or other industries. Collins was a tall, gray-haired gentleman in his mid-fifties who was generally considered credible by the Tri Con employees because he had worked his way up in the management chain. He assured Pattie that everything possible was being done and that Tri Con was available for all her needs. He walked with them to the room reserved for the families and then left she and Jenny in the hands of a hostess assigned to the group. The hostess was a flight attendant who had been called in from the reserve crew list and was doing the best she could in a situation she was totally unprepared for. She gave Pattie a stick-on name badge and invited she and Jenny to help themselves to the brunch that had been catered for them. Leather recliners were lined along the outside walls of the room, and a large screen TV was installed at one end. Pattie felt lost and out of place as she stood there. A pretty young woman approached with tears in her eyes and looked at Pattie’s name tag. “Mrs. Wells, I’m Robby Jenner’s wife. My husband is the first officer.”

  The dam finally broke, and Pattie began to sob. They fell into each other’s arms, and Jenny knew she had made the right decision to bring Pattie to be with the others. Eventually, she was introduced to Britt Fowler’s parents and the husbands, brothers, sisters, or children of other flight attendants. Tony Johnson was not married, but his parents were there.

  Two chaplains were available and being kept very busy praying privately and publicly with various individuals and groups. The hostess made an announcement that a member of management would be updating them every hour or as warranted. Pattie wondered what it must be like on the other side of the field, where the families of two hundred passengers were gathered. She knew if Charlie were here he would take charge and provide leadership and guidance. She just didn’t feel strong enough to do that, but she did somehow feel a sense of responsibility because her husband had been charged with the safety of all these people’s loved ones. She must stay and do whatever she could to comfort them. She sat in a recliner, placed her head in her hands, and prayed.

  The airplane lurched to the left, causing the raft to strain against the line attached to the door. Molly knew if the airplane sank it would drag them under with it. She screamed for Charlie and was answered by a chorus of screaming passengers from inside the fuselage. The airplane stabilized once again, and without thinking, she stood to enter the door. Alice grabbed the back of Molly’s shirt and calmly said, “No, Molly, we can’t jeopardize these people’s lives.”

  Alice reached for the tether line to release the raft from the airplane. Tears streamed down Molly’s face. “Wait! We have to give them a chance.”

  At the edge of consciousness, Charlie was aware of nothing but darkness. Vertigo…floating…can’t see. His disoriented mind reverted to long ingrained habit pattern. His hand reached to turn on the landing lights but felt only emptiness.

  The burning pain in his ankle, and the cold water that he lay in, brought him back to reality. A sense of urgency and a rush of adrenalin helped him to refocus as he forced himself to sit up. Forget the pain…move.

  The three passengers were no longer screaming, having watched their last hope pass out in the floor. Now the man sitting in the seat beside Charlie looked at him with pleading eyes, “Help me,” he whispered.

  Charlie stood on one foot, “Grab the back of my belt and hold on.”

  Pulling himself from one seat to the next, he made his way slowly toward the door with the man sloshing behind him. Please God…let that raft be there.

  Molly saw the white shirt appear in the door, “Charlie!”

  “Help this man into the raft, I’ll be back.”

  “I’m going with you to help.”

  “No! If the airplane moves, release the raft.”

  He hobbled faster without the burden on his belt. The floor was tilted more now, but he maintained his balance by holding the seat backs. He reached the next passenger and began to release his seat belt. The old man appeared to be paralyzed physically and resigned emotionally. He nodded to the seat in front of him, “Take him, and save yourself.”

  There was a much younger man sitting in the next seat quietly praying. The old man stared into Charlie’s eyes and nodded once again, communicating more than words could ever convey.

  Charlie moved forward and had the passenger latch onto his belt. He mentally suppressed the pain in his ankle and moved aft. Pillows and blankets were floating in the aisle now, and he ignored them. When they reached the door, the raft was actually higher than the floor. Molly and Alice had to pull the man up to get him aboard. Without speaking, Charlie disappeared back inside. He realized the airplane was slowly tilting more to the left, and he fought to maintain his balance without putting weight on his busted ankle.

  He was only two seats away from the old man when the emergency lights dimmed and then cast total darkness in the cabin. Oh God…please no!

  He held onto a seat back and fought panic. He opened his eyes as wide as they would go and was suddenly blinded by a bright light. “Over here captain. I never leave home without a flashlight.”

  Just as Charlie reached the seat, the airplane trembled and lurched again. “You shouldn’t have come back, captain, I don’t have the strength in my hands to hold on to your belt.”

  “Can you maintain your grip on the flashlight?”

  “I think so.”

  Charlie removed his belt and looped it around the old man’s belt at the back of his waist. “Just relax, and don’t lose that light.”

  He had only dragged the man a few feet when the airplane began to roll slowly to the left. The wing tanks were filling and so was the cabin. Charlie gripped the belt and struggled on. The cold water, halfway to his knees, helped numb the pain but slowed his progress. He only had one thought other than reaching the door, Patti.

  Behind him, the old man said, “Take the light, captain, you can make it alone.”

  Charlie ignored him and grabbed the next seat to pull them closer to freedom. With the flashlight focused behind him, he reached forward again but found no seat to grip. He was standing in the door, but the raft was gone.

  When the airplane began its steady roll, Alice had taken the initiative and released the tether line. Molly could not fault her decision and sat staring at the door as they drifted into the dark. From forty feet away, she saw the light in the door. She watched as Charlie reached down an
d inflated the passenger’s life vest and then his own. When they were in the water, she saw that he had also pulled the tab to illuminate the little white lights on the vest.

  Alice looked up to see Molly grab the tether line and dive into the water. She heard the pop of the vest inflating as she swam away. Charlie gripped the belt in one hand and swam with the other. He ignored the pain and kicked with both feet. He knew that the airplane still weighed almost 400,000 pounds and would create a tremendous undertow when it sank. Molly swam to the end of the tether and waited for Charlie to kick the last ten feet to meet her.

  “Swap places with me, Molly.” She held on to the passenger with one hand and Charlie with the other as he used the tether line to pull them to the inflated boarding station at the side of the raft. Alice and the passengers pulled them aboard, and they lay on the floor shivering.

  Once Charlie got his breath, he found the survival pack and retrieved the paddle. They had to get away from the airplane. He began paddling and encouraged everyone seated at the sides to use their hands to help. They slowly moved away and watched as the airplane continued to list. With all the doors open, the fuselage filled quickly and moments later it rolled up on its side and began slipping away. The right wing was the last thing visible, and Charlie could see the section that housed the dump valves. Then it was gone.

  “Listen to me. Everyone is safe. You’re going to be all right. I want each of you to inflate one tube of your vest if you haven’t done so already. Do not inflate both tubes. If you do, you will be very uncomfortable, and we’re only inflating one for insurance in case you get clumsy and fall overboard.”

  He could hear the little CO2 cartridges popping in the dark as vests inflated. A few people pulled the wrong tab and illuminated the little battery-powered white light on the vest. Eventually everyone sorted things out and the vests were properly inflated. “Now I want to balance our raft. We have too much weight on one side. If you are handicapped, do not move. We will move other people first.”

  He began to choose people and move them until the raft evened out.

  “Now, I want to know how many of you people are doctors, and don’t all try to speak at once.”

  Someone actually laughed, which was a sign of courage or ignorance, but no one spoke up right away. A few seconds later a female voice said, “I’m an emergency room nurse, I’ll do what I can.”

  “Very good, start a triage, and we’ll go from there.”

  Charlie felt like he had succeeded in getting everyone focused on the proper priorities and a common purpose, which was the best he could hope for in the short term. He looked around and began to evaluate the situation. He thought he saw the lights of another raft for a moment, but he wasn’t sure. The little battery-operated lights on his raft were growing very dim. Molly and Alice were using the flashlights to help the nurse look at injuries. He tried to remember what time the sun came up on his last trip, but knew it would be much later at sea level than at thirty-five thousand feet and later yet under the thick cloud cover.

  The nurse reported that she had not discovered serious injuries among the raft’s occupants, only bruises, and minor lacerations. Charlie used one of the flashlights and dug the first aid kit out of the survival pack, and she went to work. When everyone else was cared for, she wrapped Charlie’s ankle and offered him Tylenol. The pain had subsided somewhat, and he refused the pills, thinking someone else might need them more. He had Molly do a head count and discovered that there were forty-two people in the raft, and twelve of them were handicapped. He and Molly discussed the situation with Alice and decided that there was little they could do until daylight other than to encourage the people to talk and stay alert. They agreed that as crewmembers, they should exhibit as much confidence as possible.

  Colt sat impatiently through the preflight and boarding process. When the agent closed the door, he taxied out to the runway as quickly as possible and then sat impatiently waiting in line for takeoff. It was driving him crazy to do nothing. He was determined to find a way to help. They finally received takeoff clearance and departed to the north. When departure control gave them a left turn, he rolled the airplane up into a tight turn to the west, asked for high speed approval, and lowered the nose to put the airspeed on the red line. He ignored climb performance and kept the speed up as they crossed Spain and headed for Portugal and the Atlantic.

  He had plotted Charlie’s last position on their chart and requested a westbound track that would over fly that position. When they were in range of Santa Maria, he got on the radio and asked for the latest information. There was none, so he asked who was leading the search. They told him Navy Rota was coordinating the operation. He asked who the on-scene commander was, and they gave him the call sign, “Navy Search Eight.”

  Colt kept the speed up, and approaching thirty west, he closely monitored the guard frequency and heard no activity at all. He decided to create some.

  “Navy Eight, Tri Con Fourteen, on guard.”

  “Tri Con Fourteen, Navy Eight go ahead.”

  “Navy Eight, can you come up on air-to-air.”

  “Okay, we’ll switch over.”

  “Tri Con Fourteen, Navy Eight on air-to-air. Go ahead, sir.”

  “Navy, we wanted to tell you guys how much we appreciate your help. Any luck yet?”

  “No sir, the visibility is really bad, it’s gonna be a slow go. We’ve got four Orions in grid but no joy so far.”

  “Who took the mayday?”

  “That was USS Karuk, an oceangoing tug. He’s down to the southwest steaming at flank speed to get here.”

  “Is he on guard?”

  “Always, sir.”

  “Thanks guys, we’re going to try to raise them if you want to listen in.”

  Colt switched back to the emergency frequency. Brian Davis had grabbed a nap after his mid-watch and was back on duty for the regular workday.

  “Karuk, Tri Con Fourteen on guard, over.”

  “Tri Con Fourteen, this is Karuk, go ahead.”

  “Karuk, do you have 123.45 capability?”

  “Yes sir, standby one.”

  “Tri Con Fourteen, Karuk on air-to-air.”

  “Thanks, Karuk, I didn’t want to tie up the emergency frequency. Thanks for helping out with the search. Do you have a word for word copy of the mayday?”

  “Yes sir, I copied it myself. Standby one.”

  “Fourteen, are you ready to copy.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Okay, we played the tape back several times, and this is it: ‘Karuk, Tri Con One-One, we have a fuel exhaustion emergency, present position, North 4443.7, West 03429.8, one-zero thousand feet, two hundred and eight souls on board, over.’ He came back again after the read back, and he was weak and broken. ‘Karuk, Tri…on…One headi…ro four…seven miles …ect…’ that’s it word for word sir.”

  “Thanks, Karuk. Navy Eight, are you still with us?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Listen, it sounds like he gave the mayday descending through ten thousand feet. Even with no engines, he would have a glide ratio of three to one, which means his splash would be thirty miles downrange. It sounds like the second transmission was trying to give a heading and distance to somewhere. I’m betting he was trying to make Lajes and splash would be about thirty miles on a direct line between the position he gave and Lajes. Does that make sense?”

  “It sounds logical. We might need to rethink our premise. I’ll run it by Rota and get them to plot it out to expand the grid.”

  “Thanks again guys, we’re gonna lose you shortly. Good job Karuk. You too, Eight.”

  Colt knew that the investigation in Atlanta was underway, and he intended to be a part of it. He adjusted the cruise speed to maximum and ignored all fuel conservation measures. He stared at the clouds below and envisioned the waves beneath. At least the temperature on the surface was in the seventies and survivable.

  Britt leaned against the side of the raft and wondered what the temp
erature must be. It wasn’t cold, but the moisture in the air was thick, and everyone’s clothes were damp and uncomfortable. The day was dawning gray and dark, but she was glad to have any light at all. The raft lights had long since gone out, and she was trying to conserve the flashlight batteries. Nancy had regained consciousness, and her ankle was swollen and discolored. The pain was bearable, but her source of distress, when she came to, was the sight of Allen Smallwood lying in the floor of the raft, soaked and shivering.

  When she realized that he was looking at her, she said, “Hello, Mr. Smallman.”

  He shivered, stuttered, and blustered. “Smallwood.”

  After all that had happened, Britt was amazed that the skinny little grandmother’s first priority was to antagonize Allen.

  Nancy asked, “What happened, Britt?”

  “We’re safe. When we ditched, the galley collapsed on you. You took a blow on the forehead, but I think you’ll be fine. Don’t try to move around. Your ankle is sprained or broken also. Charlie and Robby put you into the raft.”

  “Where is everyone else?”

  “I don’t know how many others got out. The airplane sank after we drifted away from it. We have forty people in the raft, and you have the most serious injuries. Allen Smallwood is suffering from exposure, but he’ll be all right. We fished him out of the water about ten minutes after we launched.”

  “Did you throw him in the water?”

  “No, he panicked and jumped on the slide before I could disconnect it. He bounced and disappeared until we found him later.”

  Nancy glared at him lying on the floor, pouting.

  “Britt, did you see Pam?”

  “No, but I’m sure she’s fine. You two are a tough old pair of grannies.”

  “What happens now?”

  “I’ve been waiting for daylight to see what we can do. Surely the rescue teams are on the way. We just have to survive until they find us.”