Equal Time Point Page 22

  Collins asked, “Do you think he knows we’re on to him?”

  “Yeah, I think he figured it out somehow. I put out an all points bulletin on him and his truck, and the local police are sitting on his house. I also asked for a search warrant for his locker at work and his home. We’ve got plenty of probable cause now.”

  Jake asked, “What can we do to help, Ed?”

  “There is one thing. I’d like to borrow Phil James for a while. I’m going straight to Slackman’s house, and I don’t have a clue what I’m looking for. Phil might recognize something to do with airplanes that I would overlook.”

  “I’ll get him for you.”

  Thirty minutes later, Ed and Phil stopped in front of Ray’s house. It was an older, single level home on a quiet residential street near the airport. Ed identified himself to the police officers in the patrol car guarding the house, and a minute later, two more FBI agents arrived with the search warrant. They opened the trunk of one of the cars and removed an evidence kit. When they approached the front door, Ed had Phil wait to the side, and one of the agents walked to the rear of the house. Ed and the other agent went through the formality of knocking on the door and identifying themselves. Once they were sure nobody was there, the other agent asked, “You want me to kick it open?”

  Ed faked a shocked expression, “How primitive. There’s a policeman right out front. We could be arrested for vandalism.”

  The other agent laughed as Ed reached into his coat pocket and removed a small tool kit. Ten seconds later the cheap lock was open. Ed gave Phil a set of booties to put over his shoes and a pair of latex gloves to wear. He instructed Phil not to touch anything unless he asked him to.

  The three agents were thorough and meticulous. They had obviously had a lot of practice, and went through the house one room at a time, not missing anything along the way. They looked in places Phil would never have thought of and found very little of interest, other than a twenty-two caliber pistol in a dresser drawer and some irate letters from his ex-wife concerning alimony payments. The patrolman outside came to the front door and called Ed without coming inside. He passed the message that Ray’s truck had been found in the employee parking lot and apparently had not been moved since he arrived early for his day shift. Ed said, “There’s a good chance he’s still on the airport property somewhere. He’ll show up eventually.”

  By the time they began searching the kitchen, the only things they had bagged for evidence were the gun and a laptop computer, which would be examined at the lab. One of the agents went to the small trash can and started picking through the items one at a time. Phil noticed that he began carefully laying scraps of paper on the kitchen table. After a few minutes, the agent called to Ed.

  “We might have something here, boss.”

  Ed went to the table and started rearranging the scraps of paper.

  “I hate jigsaw puzzles.”

  The agent drew another scrap from the trash and said, “This looks like part of a Tri Con logo.”

  “Phil, you better look at this.”

  Phil looked at the scraps and immediately recognized the layout of a Tri Con maintenance manual page. He said, “I’ve seen a million of these, let me put it together.”

  Ed made sure Phil had the gloves on and said, “Knock yourself out.”

  Two minutes later the entire page was reassembled on the table. Phil said, “I don’t believe this.”

  “What is it?” Ed asked.

  “It’s the dump valve electrical schematic, but the interesting thing is the handwritten notes. He rigged the dump valves to open when the aft transfer pumps powered up. I would never have figured this out on my own. This is incredible. I need to analyze this against the flight profile of Flight Eleven, but I’m betting it’s going to fit perfectly with the timeline of the accident.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “I can set it up in the simulator, fly the profile, and see exactly how it would play out. Once we program it, I can fast forward to somewhere east of Gander and then watch in real time. We’ll know in a couple of hours.”

  “Beautiful. All we need now is Mr. Slackman. I’m going to call for a new warrant charging him with sabotage, terrorism, and possibly murder. We need to get more men around the airport and comb till we find him.”

  One of the other agents said, “Ed, he’s already inside the security perimeter. TSA won’t be any help at all.”

  “Maybe they can help keep him inside, but he could be anywhere on the property.”

  Phil said, “This might not be easy, Ed. There are lots of places to hide on a huge airport, especially with an employee badge.”

  “We’ll find him.”

  Ed made several digital photographs of the page on the table, and then they bagged the scraps for evidence.

  “I’ll print you a copy of this, Phil, for your analysis. Let’s go for a simulator ride.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Charlie watched the Orion climb to a higher altitude. It began lazy circles above the raft. Now that they had been located, he wondered how the rescue would take place. He assumed a surface ship would eventually show up; he scanned the horizon, hoping it would come soon. Now that the crisis was over, the people in the two rafts cheered him as their hero and lifted his spirits. They waited for over an hour, then spotted the black smoke on the southeast horizon signifying the arrival of the Karuk. The little ship maneuvered to within a few hundred feet and then turned broadside to the rafts. Charlie was elated to see the deck railings lined with civilians and realized that many others had also survived.

  Alice Elon had tears in her eyes.

  “There’s Britt and Mary Dobson.”

  Charlie spotted Robby and Tony, and they waved and saluted. Molly continued to banter with the people in the rafts, and she and Charlie declared that since the handicapped were the last off the airplane, they would be first to leave the rafts. The long ordeal was over, and the looks of relief on passengers’ faces were a beautiful thing to see.

  The rafts were towed alongside the dive platform, and the handicapped were taken aboard. The process was time-consuming, as they were assisted from the rafts and then physically carried onto the ship once the platform was raised to the main deck. Charlie insisted on being the last to leave the raft, and Molly insisted on waiting with him. When the two of them were finally lifted to the deck, a loud cheer went up from the passengers and crew. Charlie waved as he limped aboard on his sprained ankle, and Molly took a slow bow as her red hair cascaded across her face. Captain Maxwell greeted Charlie with a salute and a handshake.

  The Tri Con crew, along with Molly Jackson, was once again assembled in the wardroom to debrief. Charlie refused medical attention until after the meeting. Captain Maxwell announced that the number of survivors on board now totaled two hundred and five. Charlie said, “I can confirm one fatality. I left one deceased male passenger in the mid cabin with a broken neck. I planned to go back and recover his body, but there just wasn’t time. I had hoped he was the only fatality.”

  Britt said, “Charlie, the other two missing people are Bertie Martin and the unaccompanied minor. They were sitting at the two right door, and one of the passengers reported that the exit was completely blocked with heavy debris that couldn’t be moved. The same passenger saved Pam, who was unconscious, and launched her raft at two left with his family and a couple of other people.”

  Charlie looked down and paused a moment, then raised his eyes once again.

  “I saw the debris at two right, and it did appear to be impassable, but when I noticed the raft at two left was gone, I assumed everyone left in it. I should have taken time to check closer.”

  Captain Maxwell said, “It sounds to me like you did the right thing, Captain Wells. You have to base decisions on the greater good, and you obviously did that. You saved the greatest number of people in the shortest amount of time. Taking the delay of trying to move the wreckage at the door might have doomed all the people you evacu
ated after that. You barely got them out as it was.”

  Pam said, “You can talk to the passenger who tried to move it, Charlie. He had two teenage sons with him and they couldn’t budge it. There is no way you could have done more by yourself.”

  Captain Maxwell said, “I think you all performed heroically. I’m sure you will be commended and your deeds celebrated. Let me fill you in on the situation as it stands now. There are numerous ships in the area, with more on the way. We have been relieved of our search duties. The mission will continue for quite some time, and of course, as much wreckage and flotsam as possible will be recovered. As for us, we will be underway shortly and proceed to the Azores. I expect to make port late tomorrow. We will dock at the island of Terceira. The port is located at Praia da Vitoria and is only a few miles from the air base at Lajes. Meanwhile, we will make you as comfortable as possible while you are with us. I’m afraid we don’t have enough berths for everyone, but the accommodations will be better than another night in a life raft. Fortunately, we have plenty of food and beverages, and I’ve instructed the cook to have open mess from now until midnight. My officers and I are available at all times for any request or concerns that you may have.”

  Charlie said, “Captain, we would all like to let our families know that we are safe. Is that possible?”

  “Already underway, sir. My yeoman is compiling the information as we speak, and it will be transmitted shortly. In fact, if you’d care to join me on the bridge, Captain Wells, we’ll make sure that happens right away.”

  Charlie followed Maxwell, hobbling up the stairs to the bridge, and looked out over the vast ocean as they waited for the yeoman. Captain Maxwell was giving him the tour when the speakers came alive. “Karuk, Navy Eight is going home. Well done, gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure working with you.”

  Maxwell said, “Standby, Radio.”

  He turned to Charlie, “Would you like to respond to that, Captain Wells?”

  Charlie took the mike from Brian Davis.

  “Navy Eight, my name is Charlie Wells. I’m the captain from Tri Con Eleven. On behalf of my crew and passengers, sir, thank you for saving our lives. There are two hundred and five men, women, and children here who would like to shake your hands. That Orion was a beautiful sight when we thought we might die.”

  Lieutenant Todd Gray replied, “You’re very welcome, captain. Congratulations on a job well done, yourself. There would have been no one to save if you had not made a great landing. Did you dead stick it?”

  “No, we had one engine operating to help control the approach, and we got very lucky. We owe you our lives.”

  “Give the credit to Karuk, captain. All we do is sit on our butt and look out the window.”

  “Your modesty is wasted on me, sir. You and your crew are heroes, like it or not.”

  “I’ll pass that on to them, captain, but I like to keep them humble as much as possible. Enjoy your cruise on Karuk, sir. So long.”

  “Roger that Navy Eight, so long.”

  He handed the mike back to Brian and turned to see the yeoman arrive with the latest list of survivors. Brian loaded the information and data linked it via satellite to fleet. Charlie looked out the bridge windows to the east and watched as dusk approached over the sea. Suddenly he was starving.

  Pattie Wells heard her stomach growl and looked around to see if anyone else heard it. Fortunately, everyone was talking, and she did not have to be embarrassed. It was appalling that she could be hungry at a time like this. What would the others think if they saw her stuffing groceries down her throat when her husband’s fate was unknown? She looked at the food on the table and fought back the urge, but there was no doubt that her appetite had returned with a vengeance. She thought the pressure must be getting to her, because it was as if Charlie was laughing at her in her confusion. She sat alone and tried to sort out her emotions, but was interrupted by her cell phone ringing. She opened it and said, “Hello.”

  “Pattie, it’s Colt. I’m still in Harold Collins’ office, and you’ve got to keep a secret for a few minutes.”

  “What are you talking about, Colt?”

  “A new message just came in, and Harold is on his way down to announce it, but I wanted you to know right away. Don’t say anything to the others, because I don’t have all the details, but Charlie has been rescued, and he’s in good shape.”

  Pattie couldn’t speak.

  “Pattie, are you there?”

  “Yes, thank you Colt. Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  Pattie closed the little phone, got up from her seat, and walked to the buffet table. She heaped food onto a plate and didn’t care what anyone thought.

  As she sat down to eat, Harold Collins called the room to attention.

  “Folks, we have more good news. Seventy-eight more people have been rescued, and three of them are crewmembers. Charlie Wells, Shelia Graham, and Alice Elon have been picked up and are in good health. Mrs. Jackson, I’m happy to say that Molly is also aboard the ship and in good shape.”

  The room erupted once again and hugs were shared. When it quieted down he said, “We only have one more crew member to find, and that’s Bertie Martin. I understand that Bertie’s husband has left for a doctor’s appointment, but I hope you will all continue to support him when he returns. I plan to speak with him personally and pledge that our efforts will continue unabated. In fact, we can now concentrate all our resources on this one task. Unfortunately, we have two other passengers unaccounted for, and I ask that each of you continue your prayers.

  “I also have another announcement. We have been informed that all the survivors are en route to the Azores aboard the USS Karuk. They expect to arrive in port late tomorrow. I would like for all of you to be on the pier when they dock, and I have set up an airplane to make that possible. You and any family members you choose are welcome to make the trip. We will provide hotel rooms and whatever else is required. We have a tentative departure time of eight o’clock this evening, and Captain Colt Adams has graciously volunteered to be your chauffeur. I hope that will give you time to go home and pack. I suggest we meet back here at seven and go to the airplane together. If that’s a problem for anyone, please let me know as soon as possible. I also suggest that you pack a change of clothes for the crew. I doubt if they saved their luggage.”

  Jenny Kramer was still babysitting Pattie and Melissa and offered to drive them home to pack. She had security check to make sure the media hounds were not still camped in front of their houses, and then they left with Pattie munching a roast beef sandwich and a pack of chips. Jenny informed them that she too had volunteered to fly the trip as lead flight attendant, and the family room hostess would be a part of the crew also.

  When they arrived at Pattie’s house, Jenny and Melissa watched TV as Pattie packed. The news bulletins had been coming fast and furious all afternoon, and the public had been served a steady diet of trial attorney advertisements following each one. The latest bulletin was introduced with a graphic of a Tri Con jet and the superimposed words “Tragic investigation.” Of course, this was accompanied by dramatic music symbolizing a funeral procession.

  “We continue to gather facts and information on the Tri Con tragedy. It now appears as though the death toll may be just three people. We have learned that one flight attendant and two passengers are still missing and presumed dead. The passenger list has not been released, but we can report that the crewmember listed as a fatality is sixty-two-year-old Bertha Martin. Ms. Martin is a local resident and is survived by her husband, two children, and four grandchildren, who all live in the Atlanta area.

  “We reported earlier that all three pilots survived the crash and will be facing investigation as to why they failed to complete the flight safely. Captain Charles Wells was in command, and repeated attempts to interview his wife, Mrs. Patricia Wells, have resulted in ‘No comment.’ Stay tuned as we continue to monitor developments.”


  Now that the death toll had been drastically reduced, the bulletin was followed by an Amtrak commercial. The three women were incensed that the pilots were being defamed and that Pattie had been quoted as “No comment,” although it was technically correct, since she had not spoken at all. They hoped that Mr. Martin had not seen the bulletin and learned of Bertha’s demise in such a callous manner. How could you explain that news report to a grandchild? They should be required to precede the news with an adults-only disclaimer.

  Ray Slackman was in a full-blown panic. He had watched from a distance when the airport police had converged on the maintenance shack, and he had no doubt who they were looking for. He hated Billy Lediuex, and he hated the FBI agent who had skillfully manipulated him. Billy would pay for this. His only choice now was to run. He thought of jumping on the employee bus and making his way to the parking lot, but he knew they would be watching his truck and guarding his house. He thought of going to the main terminal and catching the Marta train to downtown, but surely they would be watching that too. Besides that, he only had thirty dollars and a maxed-out Visa card in his wallet. Somehow he had to buy himself some time and think of a plan. He decided he couldn’t stay in the ramp area without being seen and recognized. By remaining underneath the concourse and following the twists and turns of the conveyor belts and trains of baggage carts, he was able to eventually make his way to the north end of the complex. He found what he was looking for in a storage bin in the baggage service area. The airline kept RON kits available for passengers who missed a flight and had to unexpectedly remain over night. Among the items in the amenity kit was a razor and shave cream. If he could get rid of the beard and mustache, maybe he would not be recognized as easily.

  Now he had to get away from the concourse and move to a more remote part of the airport, away from the co-workers who knew him. Through the open end of the complex, he could see a row of baggage tugs that would not be used until the evening push of international flights. He walked out to the tugs as if he was supposed to be there and climbed on the first one in line. There were no keys for the tugs—they all had a simple start button—and it fired right up. Ray drove away from the concourse and joined a line of other tugs waiting for a jet to exit the ramp. When the airplane was clear, the line moved to the next concourse. Ray followed the traffic until he reached the service road that circled the airport perimeter. He went north on the road and drove past the fuel farm and a maintenance hangar, onto the remote pad where spare jets were parked until they were needed. Today there were five airplanes on the pad.