John Nance: Headwind

“Very well, My Lord, although I was afraid I had no further credibility before you.”

O’Connell looked at Garrity as if he were seeing him for the first time.

“Mr. Garrity… I have reflected on my previous comments, and they were, perhaps, a bit hasty. I shall not cite you for contempt for your… your show earlier.”

“Thank you, My Lord.”

“State your new evidence.”

“As your Lordship knows, the Treaty Against Torture, otherwise known as the United Nations Convention Against Torture, under Article Three specifically prohibits any member state from sending, by extradition or otherwise, any person to a country in which there is a reasonable possibility that prohibited acts of torture or infliction of pain without coloration of law may be inflicted. Mr. Reinhart has just received confirmation from the Secretary of State of the United States, and from Washington, that the United States Government has new evidence that the government of Peru is about to be cited by a section of the United Nations for human rights abuses, specifically for the systematic torture of political prisoners, including the infliction of torture and unusually harsh punishment against two former Peruvian legislators. Placing Peru on such a list formally declares that until removed by the U.N., Peru is to be considered as a matter of law to have a demonstrated propensity for torturing any prisoner of former political standing. This information meets the applicable definitions of the Treaty Against Torture wherein it prohibits extradition of any person to a state that may reasonably be expected to use prohibited methods of torture or unusual punishment against such a person. Clearly, a former President of the United States fits this category, and since Peru may be said to have a clear intention to inflict torture and unlawful pain on the person of John Harris, any request for his extradition to Peru must be summarily denied.”

“Mr. Garrity,” the judge replied, “have you anything but verbal statements to make to support this charge?”

“Yes, My Lord, but it will take several days to physically receive the certification from the United Nations Directorate involved.”

“Then your motion to vacate the application for extradition is denied.”

“My Lord, I then move to adjourn this matter for ten days, or in the alternative, if the court proposes to issue orders, I move to stay execution of any such arrest or extradition order, for ten days. We must have time to produce those instruments.”

“I imagine,” the judge said, “that Mr. Campbell will have a rather impassioned response to that motion, Mr. Garrity.”

Stuart Campbell remained seated, his face impassive as O’Connell looked at him with increasing puzzlement. “What say you, Mr. Campbell?”

“My Lord?”

“I assume you have an objection to Mr. Garrity’s motion?”

“No, My Lord. I do not.”

“No?” O’Connell asked, his face betraying complete confusion.

“No.”

“Mr. Campbell, Mr. Garrity is asking to adjourn these proceedings for ten days, and you are not objecting?”

“No, My Lord.”

The judge sat in confused silence for a few seconds before sighing and shaking his head.

“Very well, then. I am going to consider granting the motion. We’ll take a momentary recess.”

“How far out?” Craig asked, his voice crisp but more strained than Alastair had ever heard it.

“One hundred forty miles from the airport. About ninety from land.”

Craig studied the fuel gauges over his head, his lips almost white.

“How much left?” Alastair asked.

“Not enough. We’re under six hundred, if I can believe the gauges.”

“Six hundred per side?”

“No. Total.”

“Oh, Lord,” Alastair said.

“I don’t want to descend down at the normal point,” Craig said. “Let’s wait until we’re within fifty miles of the field, just in case.”

“Agreed.”

Craig punched the interphone button and waited for Jillian to come on the line.

“Jillian, I want you to get Elle and Ursula briefed and strapped in with life jackets on. Get Sherry, the Secret Service guy, and the President in life jackets as well as yourself, and get everyone seated about midway back in aisle seats. Review where the life rafts are. And hurry. I don’t think we’re going in the water, but I want to take no chances.”

“Okay,” she said and was gone.

“EuroAir Ten-Twenty, contact Galway Approach now, one twenty two point four. He understands your fuel emergency.”

“Roger Shanwick Control. Thank you.”

“Good luck, sir.”

Alastair switched the frequency and punched the transmit rocker switch.

“Galway Approach, EuroAir Ten-Twenty, level flight level three one zero. We have ATIS information Bravo.”

“Roger, Ten-Twenty, radar contact one hundred twenty-six miles from Galway Airport. I’ll provide you with radar vectors to the ILS approach runway zero nine at Galway.”

“Roger.”

Craig was looking up at the fuel gauges again.

“What?” Alastair said.

Craig diverted his gaze back to the forward instrument panel. “You don’t want to know. Just do a little praying, please.”

“Roger.”

Alastair passed the request to remain at altitude until fifty miles out to the controller.

“How far?” Craig asked.

“One hundred and five miles,” Alastair said, at the exact moment the gauges for engine number two on the right wing began winding back toward zero thrust and temperature.

“All right, we’ve lost number two,” Alastair said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“And there goes one,” Craig replied.

“Try a restart?” Alastair asked.

“With what? We’re out of gas.”

“I’ll get the APU… damn, no gas for the aux power unit either.”

“We’ll keep the speed up enough for windmilling hydraulics but…”

The electrical power died at the same moment.

“Damn!” Craig threw the appropriate switches on the overhead panel. “Okay, I’ve got my side powered from the battery.”

“I’ve got emergency lights and my battery GPS over here. No instruments,” Alastair said.

“We’ll have to make a no-flap approach,” Craig added. “Hydraulics should last, and we should have standby rudder. VHF radio number one and VHF navigation radio number one and the transponder should work, but the computer’s gone.”

Alastair was already reaching for the transmit switch. “Galway Approach, EuroAir Ten Twenty has a dual engine flameout. No possibility of restart. We’ll need sharp vectoring right onto the localizer.”

The controller’s voice came back on a wave of audible alarm. “Ah… roger, ah, Ten Twenty… you’re one hundred nautical miles from the end of the runway. Can… you make it?”

Craig was running a high-speed calculation in his head, factoring in the winds as he slowed the jet to its most efficient no-flap airspeed.

Alastair watched his lips move, and his head begin to move side to side.

“No.”

“No?” Alastair asked.

“Ask him if there’s a closer field. We can’t make Galway.”

Mr. Justice O’Connell sat in thought for several minutes before looking up suddenly. “Very well. We’re back on the record, and I am ready to rule on Mr. Garrity’s motion.”

“Justice O’Connell?”

The judge sighed loudly but without sarcasm as he picked up his gavel. “Are you attempting to address this court again, Mr. Reinhart? Are you unaware that I’m provisionally ruling in your client’s favor?”

“Yes, sir, but in one respect your ruling will still deny him justice.”