Free Fall

Sixty

Washington, DC

The memo from the NTSB chairman was urgent and terse.

All staff listed were to cooperate immediately and fully with the FBI in its criminal investigation into the emails linked to events concerning Shikra Airlines Flight 418 and EastCloud Flight 4990.

Jake Hooper’s name was on the list.

He read it a third time, shuddering in disbelief. The memo validated the rumors going around the floor about incredible developments in the cases.

The FBI had found the source of the emails; the FBI had evidence pointing to interference with the flights; the FBI had suspects with a connection to the NTSB; there was a puzzling video posted by Robert Cole; the White House was involved. Finally, the rumors had turned to fact. FBI agents were here now, questioning people in Major Investigations Division.

“Jake?”

Hooper saw Anson Fox, his supervisor, at his door.

“The FBI’s waiting to talk to you in Six Hundred D. Take nothing.”

“Do I need a lawyer?”

“No, they need information, and they need it fast. Let’s go.”

In the room down the hall, agents Len Brock and Deacon Palmer waited on one side of the table for Hooper. They began by taking Hooper’s information from his driver’s license, then they showed him a photograph of Robert Cole and the short video he’d posted.

“Can you identify this man?” Brock asked.

Hooper said nothing.

“Mr. Hooper, can you identify this man?”

“Sorry, this is all- It’s disturbing. Yes, that’s Robert Cole. I’ve worked with him on several investigations.”

Then they showed him photos of Veyda and Seth Hagen.

“I don’t know them,” he said.

“Can you tell us where Robert Cole is?”

“He lives in North Dakota.”

“Do you know his location at this moment?”

“No.”

“You say you worked with him. When did you last see him?”

“At his wife’s funeral. That was a long while ago.”

“When did you last speak to him?”

“About four or five months ago.”

“By phone or email?”

“Over the phone.”

“What was the nature of the conversation?”

“How he was doing. He also offered his insights into investigations. After that, he called and offered his views on every ongoing aircraft investigation we had going. He was drinking heavily and not coping well. It got so I didn’t respond. I felt bad. He left me messages in the wake of the incidents with the EastCloud and Shikra flights.”

“What did they concern?”

“I don’t know. His last one was a voice message. He was drunk, incoherent. I deleted it. It was tragic because he was a brilliant engineer and he ended up a broken man. I think he called to offer help because he wants to redeem himself for the guilt he carries for his wife’s death.”

“Do you think he’s capable of remotely interfering with commercial aircraft, like the flights in this case?”

“Yes and no.”

“Explain that.”

“He helped design Richlon-Titan’s fly-by-wire system and he worked on Project Overlord, the technology promised by the president after 9/11. You know about Overlord, right?”

The agents nodded.

“Well, if anyone would know how to attack a jetliner’s controls remotely, Robert Cole would. So yes, he has the expertise. But I don’t believe he has it in his heart to commit such an act, even with his personal problems. The man I knew was dedicated to safety.”

The FBI agents exchanged a look then tapped Veyda’s photo.

“What about his daughter? MIT told us she has one of the highest IQs in the country. She was studying flight systems engineering. Is she capable? What’s the meaning of Robert Cole’s video plea to her?”

Hooper looked at Veyda’s embittered expression. Her eyes were pools of sadness and rage.

“I don’t know.”

“Mr. Hooper, we want you to alert us should Robert Cole, or Veyda, or Seth Hagen, contact you.”

“I will.”

“As a precaution, we’re going to execute warrants on your phone and all devices to monitor them.”

After his interview, Hooper left the room and passed Bill Cashill’s office. The door was open and the man invited him in.

Cashill stared at his computer monitor, his face ashen.

“You just spoke to the FBI?” Cashill asked, keeping his eyes on his screen.

“Yes. Did you talk to them?”

Cashill nodded without looking at Hooper: “So you’re vindicated, Jake.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was looking at conventional causes in both flights. I focused on them because of my years in the business. I’m a linear thinker. I wasn’t open-minded enough to even consider the possibility of a remote cyber breach of both planes. You were. For me it was out of the realm of possibility.”

Hooper stepped in and closed the door.

“Bill, no one in the world could’ve suspected Cole, his daughter and this other suspect, whoever he is-”

“Boyfriend, according to the FBI agents who questioned me. Seth Hagen’s her boyfriend, and some sort of computer wizard, too. The three of them are good if they’re able to override the system. I mean, they just left us in the dust, except for you.”

“Bill, we should urge Richlon-Titan to ground everything with an RT system now. We should issue an alert, get the FAA to put out an airworthiness directive.”

Cashill dragged his hands over his face.

“I’ve been yanked off the EastCloud and Shikra investigations.”

“What?”

“People are protecting themselves. This is moving fast up the chain. Reed Devlin’s taking over as the IIC. He’s with the chairman and the board right now. The chairman will take part in a national security meeting with the White House, the Joint Chiefs and the whole gang later today to assess the situation and give direction on the response to it.”

Hooper leaned back and his shoulders thudded against the door. His mind raced with regret at not responding to Robert Cole’s messages.

Could all of this, the deaths, the danger and the fear, have been prevented if I’d talked to Cole when he called me?