Turbulent Intentions (Billionaire Aviators #1) - Melody Anne Page 0,83
instrument panel lit up with yellow caution lights. As the flight deck panels began to blink, an audible bing sounded a warning. The two seasoned pilots examined the instrument cluster for the source of the anomalous caution light.
“Looks like low hydraulic pressure, left side,” Cooper said. “Wolf, check your circuit breakers to see if that doesn’t solve—”
Before Cooper could finish his sentence, a violent explosion rocked the aircraft. The controls now flashed with red and yellow warning lights, the audible warnings from the computer urgent: bing-bing-bing.
“What the hell?” Wolf shouted as the master warning on the panel chimed wildly.
“It must’ve been an internal failure,” Cooper yelled. “Begin the restart procedure.”
As Cooper reached for the restart checklist, the flight computer and instrument panel again wildly warned of danger: bing-bing-bing. “Engine fire—One! Engine fire—One!” The audible male voice of the computer barked at the pilots, warning them of fire in the engines.
“Engine fire! Shut her down and discharge the extinguisher!” Cooper forcefully commanded as the noise of the audible warnings now chimed without end.
The passengers, many shaken from sleep, were startled and now fully awake at the sound of shattering metal and extreme vibrations. A soft orange glow began illuminating the dark cabin through the windows.
As the passengers peered out, they could see that the left-hand engine was mangled and glowing orange with fire, the wing around it torn to shreds. The sound of the remaining good engine spooled up to a high-pitched whine as the plane pitched violently downward, then left as it began to roll into a spiral.
“Everyone, stay calm,” the lead flight attendant tried to reassure and calm the anxious passengers, only to be interrupted by the emergency oxygen masks dropping from the ceiling.
The scene quickly became more desperate as fear overcame both crew and passengers alike. Men and women were shakily grabbing for the flimsy orange masks that would provide them with emergency oxygen.
On the flight deck, the captain and first officer struggled to control the passenger jet with its two hundred plus souls on board. The computer continued to bark at the two men: “Bank angle! Bank angle! Whoop, whoop. Pull up! Whoop, whoop. Pull up!”
“We’re losing altitude fast, Coop,” Wolf shouted as the gauges spiraled down, like a stopwatch ticking to its inevitable end. The plane was still locked in a spiraling dive.
“I know, I know,” Cooper responded with slight terror in his voice as he gripped the shaking yoke, trying to turn the plane back toward the airport.
“Seattle Center, this is Trans Pacific 422, declaring an emergency,” Cooper announced. The radio only responded with feedback. “Seattle Center, Seattle, Trans Pacific 422, we’re burning up, we’re not going to make it . . .” he said, now with an eerie calm in his voice.
Wolf, seeing there was no response from air traffic control, attempted the call with his radio. “Mayday, mayday, Seattle Center. Trans Pacific 422. Emergency, we are going down! Do you copy?”
“Trans Pacific 422, acknowledged. We have all runways open for you, fire crash rescue is standing by.”
“No. We’re not going to make it. We’re going down now!”
The cabin tumbled like a washing machine; luggage and other personal effects were thrashing about as the plane rotated out of control. The flight attendants were strapped into their seats, one holding the seat belt across her chest, sobbing with fear.
The reading mother now held her child tightly as the child’s once captive teddy bear floated weightlessly up and down as the aircraft rolled wing over wing, spiraling downward into the deep blue abyss.
The old couple a few rows back gently gripped each other’s hands and looked into one another’s eyes, figuring it was their last moment together and wanting to remember their years of happiness. The newlyweds sat in a tight embrace, bitter about the life they’d never get to experience.
“Wolf, let’s put her in the Pacific,” Cooper exclaimed as he muscled the yoke to pitch the plane’s nose up.
“I don’t think she’s giving us much of a choice!”
For Cooper the world went silent, as if time were standing still. He was responsible for so many lives that were about to end, and though he was doing everything he could to prevent that, a picture of Stormy flashed through his mind. He should have told her he loved her, should have fought to see her.
“I’ve still got things to say to people,” Cooper told Wolf. “We have to stop the aircraft from rolling over on itself if we’re to have any chance of making it out