Free Fall

Seventy-Seven

White River National Forest, Colorado

Kate’s plane was somewhere over Colorado.

She had no internet access, of course, underscoring her apprehension that she was missing something. Once she got to New York, she’d track down Robert Cole. She’d already started outlining her story but Cole was the most critical aspect.

I wish this jet could go faster.

She looked from her notes to the window, still troubled by Varner’s cryptic response to her about Cole-that they were on the same track and things were unfolding.

What’s unfolding down there?

A chime sounded and the seat belt sign illuminated. The in-flight beverage-and-meals-for-purchase service was abruptly halted. Attendants returned service carts with a sense of urgency.

Another chime sounded, and the captain’s voice rang through the cabin. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Quinn.” A long silence passed before the captain cleared his throat. “We request everyone remain in their seats with their belts fastened and refrain from using the washrooms. We have a situation with national security implications…”

Murmurs rose throughout the cabin.

“…and as a precaution, you may see military aircraft beside us momentarily. I’m sorry, but we have no further details that we can pass to you at this point.”

An outcry of dismay, fear and anger erupted among the passengers.

“What the hell’s going on?” one man shouted as attendants, with worry etched in their faces, patrolled the aisles to confirm all seat belts were fastened. One woman seized an attendant by the arm. “We have a right to know what’s happening!”

“I’m sorry, but we only know what you know, ma’am.”

“There they are!” a boy shouted.

Necks craned as people turned to the windows to see F-16 fighters flying off the wings on either side of the plane. The sight of the military jets a few feet from the jetliner hammered home the gravity of the situation.

“Oh my God!” One woman made the sign of the cross.

Attendants pinballed between the emotional trouble spots, comforting passengers, and soon a heavy, silent dread settled over the cabin as families held hands. Some passengers wept softly and others prayed.

Kate felt all the saliva dry in her mouth as she dropped her head back on her headrest and blinked several times.

Oh dear God. She gripped her armrests. Is this tied to Zarathustra? Maybe they’ve taken control of the plane.

Her stomach twisted at the surreal truth of her situation and she acted on the one clear thought she had. She took out her notepad, uncapped her pen and began writing.

Dear Grace and Vanessa. Right now, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I want you to know you are both the lights of my life…