The Last Hostage Read Online Free PDF Page B

panic, the young pilot's breath coming in short bursts as he ran through an explanation of his fruitless trip to the south end of the field and the utter shock of finding the airplane poised for takeoff when he'd returned.
     
    "Wait a minute. There was no mechanic?"
     
    "There was a mechanic; I mean, there is a maintenance facility there, but this Gus I was supposed to find died several years ago, so I wasn't able to get anyone to come look at the engine, and when I got back, Ken had left me and a passenger and was at the end of the runway." "You said a passenger was left behind, too?"
     
    "Yes, ma'am. I'll put him on in a minute. His wife's still on the aircraft and he's very upset."
     
    "How long ago did the airplane leave?"
     
    "Five minutes max."
     
    "Hold on!" Judy turned to Verne Garcia. "Get Albuquerque Center on the horn. Find out if they're working Ninety, and where he's going.
     
    Get me the controller."
     
    "Got it." Verne Garcia turned away and began punching numbers into his phone as Judy turned back to the conversation with a shaken David Gates.
     
    "David, is it?"
     
    "Yes. David Gates."
     
    "Okay, David. Did you see any indication that someone might have slipped on board?"
     
    "No. The plane was beginning its takeoff roll when I spotted it. But there was no security on the ramp. Anyone could have boarded. There were line boys around, but I haven't asked them."
     
    "David, this is very important. What, exactly, makes you think he was hijacked?"
     
    "There's no other logical explanation. No one in his right mind would fly a two person airliner without a copilot unless he was forced to do so, or it was a war and someone was shooting at him."
     
    Judy felt her mind race through a variety of possibilities. The copilot was right. No other rational explanation existed. If the flight was airborne without a copilot, then it had to have been hijacked, and they had a major problem.
     
    "What do you want me to do?" Gates was asking.
     
    "Give me the number where you are, stay right there by that phone, and.., ah... don't talk to anyone about this yet."
     
    "Don't worry, I won't! You want me to put on the passenger who was left?"
     
    "Tell him I'll call back. Not now."
     
    "Okay, but he's really, really worried. His wife's on that aircraft."
     
    Judy replaced the phone and glanced over at Verne Garcia, who was talking urgently into his handset. Several off-duty dispatchers had begun to congregate in the area, each of them straining to hear what was happening. She turned and surveyed who was available, and pointed to the nearest one.
     
    "Jim, get the FBI on the phone and stand by for me to come on the line. Jerry, will you go to my desk and get the emergency procedures manual and start going through the hijacking procedures? Rashid, are you working any flights?"
     
    "No. What do you need?"
     
    "Call the chief pilot, the VP of operations, and corporate communications.
     
    Fill them in."
     
    "On what, Judy? I don't know what's happening."
     
    "Oh, sorry. Okay, everyone, gather around. Here's what we've got so far."
     
    Albuquerque Air Route Traffic Control Center. 10:50 A.M.
     
    Air traffic controller DAvis Hair took another sip of coffee and double- checked the altitude block on AirBridge 90. As cleared, the pilot had leveled at flight level two-one-zero, twenty-one thousand feet above the four corners area of northwestern New Mexico and northeastern Arizona and checked in with the usual expressionless, deep male voice. It was curious, she thought, that his emergency diversion to Durango had ended so quickly. At least 90 was taken care of now and on his way, leaving her free to deal with a developing conflict between an American jet and a United jet, with one overtaking the other at the same altitude, both bound for Los Angeles. The guy in the lead was being a genuine slug and flying much too slowly.
     
    Avis had poised her finger over the transmit button when an alarm suddenly sounded in her