Free Fall

Eighty

Colorado

Tears stained the pages as Kate wrote her farewell note to Grace and Vanessa.

Amid the anxiety that filled the cabin and her own anguish, she found the strength to convey what was in her heart.

…I’ve been blessed to have you in my life because you are and always will be my world. I love you more than you will ever know…

Kate looked up to see that the woman in the seat next to her was offering her a tissue. The woman smiled weakly, and Kate saw that she’d been looking at family pictures on her phone.

“My name is Willa Neal, from Santa Ana.”

“Thanks for the tissue, Willa. My name’s Kate Page, from New York.”

“You’re about the same age as my daughter,” Willa said. “May I hold your hand, Kate? Please?”

Kate took Willa’s hand in hers and at that moment saw that the jet fighters were pulling back.

“They’re moving away!” a man several rows ahead shouted. “What’s that mean?”

“Maybe whatever’s happening is over?” another passenger said.

Leaning forward and looking back, Kate watched the fighter vanish from view.

Maybe it’s really over. God, please let it be over!

US Air Force Major Tom Garland shut his eyes for a second to block out the pleas from Captain Quinn of the doomed New York-bound jetliner.

“Trans Peak Twenty-two Thirty. Why’re you pulling back, Major?”

Garland didn’t respond. Captain Quinn repeated his query.

“Twenty-two Thirty. Why’re you abandoning our escort? Please acknowledge, Major Garland!”

He couldn’t lie and couldn’t bear to tell the commercial captain the truth.

“For purposes of national security, I cannot reveal my orders, sir.”

“Major, we have five hundred and nine souls aboard. We deserve an answer!”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Major!”

Garland had been assigned command of the engagement operation on Flight 2230. He instructed his partner, Captain Ryan Taft, in the fighter on the jetliner’s right side, to throttle back. The fighters were now a quarter-mile behind the jetliner. The pilots switched to a frequency that allowed them to speak freely.

“Our assignment’s clear, Ryan.”

“Yes, sir. I’m ready to carry it out.”

Each fighter was armed with four heat-seeking air-to-air missiles and a 20 mm cannon. Garland eyed the controls used to fire a missile. Technologically speaking, taking down the jetliner would be as easy as pressing a button.

But morally…

Garland was hit suddenly with a crisis of conscience. He’d gone to work that morning like any other morning. He’d left his suburban Denver home, had kissed Angie, his wife, before she’d gone to her manager’s job at the bank. Tonight they were supposed to be taking Troy, their son, out for burgers for his eleventh birthday. Garland grew furious that some deranged individuals had created a situation that would force him to kill five hundred and nine innocent people.

How will I face Angie and Troy after this?

“Ready to launch, sir,” Taft said.

It was now fourteen minutes to impact.

Is this the only option?