Nightwatch

Chapter 61

Owen Lassiter was the first to notice that Coach had nodded off behind the controls. The backup pilot tapped Lucky on the left shoulder and beckoned toward the sleeping officer.

“Hey, Coach,” said Lucky firmly.

Foard’s eyes snapped open, and Lucky discreetly added, “Why don’t you let Major Lassiter spell you and take five?”

“I’m doing just fine. Lucky,” protested Coach with a partial yawn.

Lucky couldn’t fail to spot the uncharacteristic dark pouches beneath the senior pilot’s eyes, and he remarked in his most diplomatic manner, “We’re gonna need you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for that approach into Canaveral, sir.”

“Quit being so stubborn, and listen to Captain Davis, Major,” Lassiter interjected.

“You’re way overdue for a break, and I can handle things here while you freshen up for the landing.”

Coach stifled yet another yawn, and realized they were right. He unbuckled his harness, scooted out of his command chair, and stood behind the flight engineer console as Lassiter took his place.

“How’s it look, Jake?” he asked their engineer while stretching his cramped limbs.

Jake pointed to the gauge of hydraulic pressure system number two.

“So far, so good, sir. Pressure’s holding just above the critical range. Ever land an E-4B without a primary or secondary braking system?”

“Who has?” returned Coach, then scanned the console’s various displays and grunted.

“I’ll make you a deal. Lieutenant. You give me one good hydraulic system all the way to Florida, and I’ll buy the tickets to Disneyworld.”

“You’re on’ responded Jake before sealing the bargain with a handshake.

Coach left the cockpit, and as he entered the upper-deck rest area, he spotted Brittany in the galley, making a fresh pot of coffee.

“That’s just what the doctor ordered,” he greeted her with a tired smile.

“Be forewarned that it’s brewed Navy style,” returned Brittany.

“With two parts coffee to every one of water.”

“Pour on,” Coach instructed.

He initiated a series of stretching exercises while the coffee brewed. He then accepted a mug from Brittany, and joined her in the adjoining booth.

“How are you holding up. Commander?” he asked after taking a tentative sip of the piping-hot brew.

The cabin roughly vibrated, and Brittany held back her reply until the shaking ceased.

“To tell you the truth, I’m scared, confused, and stressed out to the max.”

“Don’t feel alone,” said Coach sincerely.

Again the cabin rattled, this time so violently that the pilot’s coffee spilled over his mug’s ceramic rim.

“How much longer can this plane hold together?” asked Brittany, her voice strained on the edge of full panic.

Coach reached out and supportively grasped her hand.

“Hang in there, my friend. The Boeing 747 is the greatest aircraft ever built, and this one’s no different. They’re designed to take a remarkable amount of punishment, with the human component more prone to failure than the mechanical systems.”

Brittany managed a brave smile, and she squeezed his palm, then pulled her hand free and picked up her coffee mug.

“Speaking of the human component,” she said between sips, “what do you think the Chairman’s up to, and why hasn’t he tried to retake the flight deck?”

“Right now, I’d say he’s busy getting the comm systems back on line, and consolidating his forces. It’s not in his best interest to interfere with our operations up here. Admiral Warner might be a political deviant, but he’s no fool. He knows that this airplane has taken a beating, and my best guess is that he won’t try to pay us another visit until we’re on the ground.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, not again!” protested Red from the aft portion of the compartment.

Both Coach and Brittany turned around to see what was bothering her, and they watched as Red tore off her headset and stood.

“What’s the matter. Sergeant? Having more transmission problems?” Coach questioned.

Red walked over to their booth to explain the reason for her frustration.

“I’m getting a clear line out, all right, sir. But the problem lies with the party I’m trying to reach. After querying Lord only knows how many directory assistance operators, I finally got the number to the Shuttle Landing Facility. And would you believe, all I get is an answering machine saying that when there are no shuttle flights in progress, the tower closes at ten p.m. and won’t reopen until eight in the morning.”

“Can we land without those runway lights?” Brittany asked.

Coach momentarily ignored this question and addressed Red instead.

“Sergeant, try getting hold of the Air Force range control center at the Cape. They’re surely manned around the clock, and we’ll rely on our boys in blue to get those NASA folks out of bed and have that shuttle runway lit up for us.

“Cause we’re gonna need all the help we can get, and then some.”