Stained River Read Free Page A

fuel.

 
     
    CHAPTER THREE
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Flight deck- Global Air 302
     
    What he thought would be a ‘piece of cake’ flight had turned into a nightmare since departing Lima. First the diversion because of weather around Brasilia, followed by the worst in- flight event he had ever experienced. Sure, in twenty-three years as a commercial pilot there were things that stuck in his mind, but never the loss of an engine. What else could go wrong? He began his turn south toward an airport he was unfamiliar with. It took all he had to keep the aircraft steady on one engine. Just then, he noticed the first officer reaching overhead, turning one switch on, another off, looking closely at the instrument gages. The fatal words were conveyed in a matter of fact way.  “W e're losing oil pressure on No.2 or this gauge is screwy. ”
    The captain listened with disbelief. Loss of one engine was recoverable; loss of two, catastrophic.
    “Are you sure? Check again.”
    “I’m sure.”
    He reached for the satellite phone.
    “This is Global 302. Mayday! Mayday! Our situation is changing rapidly. Possibility of losing the second engine. Confirm coordinates…”
    As he spoke, the attendant summoned to the flight deck earlier heard the international distress call.
    “What's happening? It’s a mess back there. What’s going on?”
    “Listen carefully! There isn’t much time.”
    His instructions to her were minimal;
    “P repare the passengers for emergency landing. Make sure everyone braces for impact, especially you and the other attendants. You will need every bit of your training in crash procedures.”
    Shaken, she re-entered the cabin, trying to exhibit a calm smile, but her composure betrayed a tenseness read by nearly everyone.
    Their suspicions were confirmed when the plane began an unusually rapid descent. There was nothing to suggest a controlled glide path. The mechanical problem mentioned earlier, had apparently ignited something more severe. Below, they saw only varied shades of green broken by the glint of sun flashing off a winding river.
    T hen the chilling last words.
    “Attendants, prepare for emergency landing !”
    The hope there was anything that could come close to a landing was blatantly false, and he knew it. There was nothing but jungle below. Both pilots watched the pressure gauge decline toward zero. Then, with no oil supply, the right engine seized. Their most optimistic expectations were not to be realized. The unthinkable, the occurrence that never could happen, happened. Both engines had failed, disavowing all statistical analysis. The first officer flipped pages of a manual looking for information that could right the situation, or at least provide a little more time. He searched for a solution he doubted existed.
     
    Terrence Connery, the talk of Wall Street, owner of a top-flight hedge fund, rich beyond the dreams of most, followed instructions from outwardly calm attendants. He hadn’t experienced a rapid loss of altitude quite like it. So acute, vomit rose in his throat. This was far more than severe turbulence. The first incident had shaken him, but the captain followed it with reassurance that calmed many aboard. Clearly, the situation now was desperate and the final words, dire. A feeling of helplessness washed over him. They would crash. Nothing he or any of the others could do would change that. What worried him only a short while ago was no longer of significance. His mind focused instead on the last few minutes left in his life. The fast approaching terrain sealed the fate of Flight 302. Rivers and tributaries, threads of glistening sunlight at high altitude, changed to turbid brown as the ground came closer. Critical flight maneuvers slowed the plane's descent, only to delay the inevitable. Too low to be picked up by radar, they leveled out, but that was small consolation. The 200 ton jet would pancake into towering trees at over 200 miles an hour, far from the