Panic in Pittsburgh Read Online Free PDF Page B

gave them a short talk on what had happened. Shortly after takeoff on a flight to San Francisco, the plane had been hijacked by four al-Qaeda terrorists using razor-sharp box cutters as weapons. Some of the passengers had cell phones and were using them to call home. That’s how they learned they were not alone in whatever was happening. Two other hijacked planes had already slammed into the World Trade Center in New York City. A third plane hit the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. From the route taken by the hijackers of Flight 93, the authorities could tell that this plane was targeting either the White House or the United States Capitol.
    The terrorists’ plan was astonishing, both in its simplicity and in its intended goal. Using simple weapons, the men had easily taken over four regular flights. Each group of terrorists had one or two trained pilots among them who would take over the controls. Two planes would destroy the twin towers of the World Trade Center, symbol of the financial power of the United States of America. One plane would hit the military center of America,the Pentagon. And the fourth plane, Flight 93, was to strike at the very heart of the American political system and might have killed the president of the United States.
    There were forty passengers and crew on Flight 93. When they realized what was happening in New York City and Washington, they knew that the hijackers were on a suicide mission and vowed that their plane would not be used the same way. They voted among themselves and decided to rush the cockpit, regardless of the consequences. They would bring the plane down themselves if need be.
    This moment, the guide said, marked a turning point in the war against terrorism. It was the moment when ordinary people – people who could be your own neighbors, or your teachers, or your relatives – decided to fight back.
    Todd Beamer, one of the passengers who decided to storm the cockpit, had been on the phone to a dispatcher on the ground. The last thing the dispatcher heard him say was addressed to the others around him: “Are you guys ready? Okay, let’s roll.”
    “Let’s roll,”
the guide repeated, pausing.
    He did not repeat it again. He did not need to.
    Sarah felt Sam’s hand groping for hers. She took Sam’s hand and held it tight, but no matter how hard she tried to stop it from happening, tears squeezed through her eyelids.

11
    Travis thought he was losing his memory. Or perhaps he just had nothing to remember. It was starting to confuse him, scare him.
    How many days had he been lying here? How many meals had he eaten? What had he eaten last? Was it lunch next? Or dinner?
    He had tried watching television and could get through an hour or so before the pain started up again. He had brought one of the Harry Potter books with him and was able to read nearly achapter before the headaches made him want to shut his eyes and lie in the dark. He’d got up several times and was now able to move about the room and washroom, slowly, without feeling nauseous. He was getting better – but was it ever going slow.
    Was it afternoon? Or night? He couldn’t tell with the heavy curtains drawn. And he didn’t want to chance looking out and discover it was midday, with the sun at its brightest. He knew only too well how painful that could be. He’d already tried it a couple of times and quickly whisked the curtains back so they darkened the room once more.
    Mainly, he lay in bed, eyes closed, mind wandering. He wondered how the tournament was going for the Owls. He wondered how little Simon Milliken was doing playing in his spot. He wanted Simon to play well, for the team’s sake, for the sake of Sarah and Dmitri, his linemates, and also for Simon’s sake, as he liked the guy a lot. But if he was being totally honest with himself, he sort of wanted the line to be struggling. He wanted the Owls to miss him as much as he missed them. He was, after all, their captain.
    Where had they gone? he