remaining airport employees crowded round the bank of air-traffic control screens. Half an hour ago these screens had been illuminated with the flight information of the many aircraft in the area. Now those aircraft had been redirected north, away from the freak hurricane that was about to make landfall, and the screens were blank.
Blank, that is, except for a single plane.
They had lost radio contact some minutes ago and though they kept trying to re-establish it, it was quite clear that they weren't going to succeed. The sensible thing for them to do now was to leave the exposed environment of the control tower and find some sort of shelter from the hurricane. But while none of them said it out loud, they all felt that to do so would somehow be to abandon that doomed flight and its passengers. It was the least they could do to see it through to the end.
Jack Simpson simply couldn't take his eyes off the screen. Like all of them, he had heard the terrified voice of the kid who had taken control of the aircraft. Terrified but somehow brave – Jack wondered if he would have had the same kind of guts in that situation. He suspected not. Now, however, all they could do was watch and wait. If the plane continued on its current course, it would crash-land somewhere in the Everglades National Park, an unpopulated area that was no doubt deserted by now because of the evacuation.
But the Everglades was also where the hurricane was heading. They might be feeling the edges of it here in Miami – and heaven knows that was bad enough – but the plane was much nearer the centre. Those passengers were going to be lucky to be alive even if they survived the impact.
Under ordinary circumstances, a whole fleet of rescue aircraft would be on standby to rush to the crash site. But these circumstances were far from ordinary. There was no way any aircraft – choppers or planes – would be able to risk flying in those circumstances. If they did, they would surely end up in the same state as the passengers on flight GXR1689.
They would end up dead.
And so there was nothing to do but leave the aircraft to its fate. Jack wanted to howl in frustration at his powerlessness. He wanted to shake his bosses and the military commanders who had decided not to engage their troops in a dangerous search and rescue mission. It was the twenty-first century, he wanted to shout. Surely something could be done.
Deep down, however, he knew that nothing could be. He knew that sometimes men simply couldn't battle against the extremes of nature. In a fight like that, there would only be one winner.
No. They would all have to wait until the hurricane passed. The storm that had just hit land was worse than anything anybody had seen in their lifetime. There would be casualties and devastation all around the southern tip of Florida. It would be shown on TV for weeks, even months afterwards. But none of it, Jack knew, would touch him as deeply as the scene that he knew was going to happen. None of it would be as bad as the pictures of a shattered plane and the burned, dismembered corpses among its wreckage. Because somewhere deep within him, Jack felt that he should have been able to do something. He should have been more in control. He should have been able to help.
Everyone in the control room gasped, Jack included. He felt his skin tingle and go cold as he blinked at the screen. The plane had disappeared, and they all knew what that meant.
Impact.
There was an instant of stunned silence. And then Jack's boss shattered the nightmare moment. 'OK, guys,' he shouted. 'Show's over. There was nothing more any of you could have done. Your priority's to get out of here and to a place of shelter. There's a bus waiting to take you off the airport grounds. Get a move on! Go! '
Everyone scrambled for the door. Everyone, that is, except Jack. He found himself rooted to the spot, staring at the blank screen.
His boss came up
Blank, that is, except for a single plane.
They had lost radio contact some minutes ago and though they kept trying to re-establish it, it was quite clear that they weren't going to succeed. The sensible thing for them to do now was to leave the exposed environment of the control tower and find some sort of shelter from the hurricane. But while none of them said it out loud, they all felt that to do so would somehow be to abandon that doomed flight and its passengers. It was the least they could do to see it through to the end.
Jack Simpson simply couldn't take his eyes off the screen. Like all of them, he had heard the terrified voice of the kid who had taken control of the aircraft. Terrified but somehow brave – Jack wondered if he would have had the same kind of guts in that situation. He suspected not. Now, however, all they could do was watch and wait. If the plane continued on its current course, it would crash-land somewhere in the Everglades National Park, an unpopulated area that was no doubt deserted by now because of the evacuation.
But the Everglades was also where the hurricane was heading. They might be feeling the edges of it here in Miami – and heaven knows that was bad enough – but the plane was much nearer the centre. Those passengers were going to be lucky to be alive even if they survived the impact.
Under ordinary circumstances, a whole fleet of rescue aircraft would be on standby to rush to the crash site. But these circumstances were far from ordinary. There was no way any aircraft – choppers or planes – would be able to risk flying in those circumstances. If they did, they would surely end up in the same state as the passengers on flight GXR1689.
They would end up dead.
And so there was nothing to do but leave the aircraft to its fate. Jack wanted to howl in frustration at his powerlessness. He wanted to shake his bosses and the military commanders who had decided not to engage their troops in a dangerous search and rescue mission. It was the twenty-first century, he wanted to shout. Surely something could be done.
Deep down, however, he knew that nothing could be. He knew that sometimes men simply couldn't battle against the extremes of nature. In a fight like that, there would only be one winner.
No. They would all have to wait until the hurricane passed. The storm that had just hit land was worse than anything anybody had seen in their lifetime. There would be casualties and devastation all around the southern tip of Florida. It would be shown on TV for weeks, even months afterwards. But none of it, Jack knew, would touch him as deeply as the scene that he knew was going to happen. None of it would be as bad as the pictures of a shattered plane and the burned, dismembered corpses among its wreckage. Because somewhere deep within him, Jack felt that he should have been able to do something. He should have been more in control. He should have been able to help.
Everyone in the control room gasped, Jack included. He felt his skin tingle and go cold as he blinked at the screen. The plane had disappeared, and they all knew what that meant.
Impact.
There was an instant of stunned silence. And then Jack's boss shattered the nightmare moment. 'OK, guys,' he shouted. 'Show's over. There was nothing more any of you could have done. Your priority's to get out of here and to a place of shelter. There's a bus waiting to take you off the airport grounds. Get a move on! Go! '
Everyone scrambled for the door. Everyone, that is, except Jack. He found himself rooted to the spot, staring at the blank screen.
His boss came up
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