Read Online Final Approach by John J. Nance - Free Book Online Page B

sheepish and apologetic Wally came on the line.
    â€œJoe, I’m terribly sorry, but Caldwell said you can’t use either airplane. He wouldn’t tell me why.”
    â€œThanks a hell of a lot for letting me know.”
    Joe half slammed the receiver back in its cradle as Andy Wallace, one of his investigators and a human-factors expert, approached the booth.
    â€œWhat’s wrong, Joe?”
    â€œWe’re orphaned, that’s what. Damned duty officer assured me we’d get the Gulfstream for a three A.M. departure, and Bill Caldwell has refused the request. We’ve gotta go commercial.”
    â€œOh, no.”
    â€œYeah. Wonderful start.” Joe shook his head in disgust, his mind already racing over plan B. “Let’s round up everyone. I’ll run over to the terminal and get us booked and ticketed on whatever’s first out to Kansas City. You get the bags all loaded into one vehicle, if someone has a pickup or camper?”
    â€œOne of us does.”
    â€œGood. After I get the tickets, I’ll come back here and get you and we’ll go get the bags checked. Maybe you should send everyone to a restaurant to wait it out while you wait for me here. We can’t get out of here till six A.M. at the earliest.”
    â€œThey’re gonna be thrilled.”
    â€œAren’t we all.”
    Joe drove the half mile to the main terminal, working to control his temper. Caldwell had been uncooperative before, but this was too much. Yet Bill Caldwell was a powerful man. Any protesting Joe could do would have to be done carefully through NTSB Chairman Dean Farris, who was friendly with Caldwell. Not only would they be at least three hours late getting to Kansas City now, but the trip would also cost the NTSB budget several thousand dollars. The public just assumed the NTSB’s job was important enough to justify adequate funds and interagency governmental cooperation. The public would be shocked to know the truth, he muttered to himself.
    Joe flipped his NTSB badge at an airport police officer to explain the presence of his car at the curb and dashed inside, startled by the relative silence of the deserted terminal in the wee hours of morning—National by day was a familiar swarm of human activity and noise. The earliest flight to Kansas City was on North America at 6 A.M. , and Joe booked the nine seats he needed in coach with the lone ticket agent on duty, using his own American Express card. By 5:30 A.M. the team had assembled in the departure lounge, boarding the empty Boeing 727 early with the help of a solicitous gate agent, the pilots coming back before departure to share worried assessments of the holocaust in Kansas City. The captain, a younger pilot in his late thirties, lingered until the last minute, pumping Joe for information he didn’t have, until his flight engineer found them. “Captain, is this gentleman the NTSB team leader?”
    â€œYeah, he is.” The captain, looking puzzled, introduced Joe to his second officer.
    â€œI just got a call from our operations, and they wanted me to relay a message from the FAA command center to the Go Team leader. Uh …” The pilot consulted a hastily scribbled note in his hand. “Two items: a Rich Carloni will meet you on arrival in Kansas City, and six passengers have been found alive but trapped in the wreckage of the 737, and rescue efforts are underway. The message also said to relay to Joe … is that you?” Joe nodded. “Relay to Joe that Wally apologizes again.”
    â€œThanks,” Joe said simply, offering no further explanation to the curious second officer, who obviously would have liked to hear one.
    â€œMr. Wallingford, as an NTSB man, you’re welcome to ride on the flight deck in my jump seat if you’d like.”
    â€œThanks, but not this morning. Too much to do.”
    â€œLet me know if you change your mind.” The captain turned to go, then