Rick Mofina - Free Fall

“I can’t find my husband!” One woman cried. “Help me find my husband!”

As people began disentangling themselves and helping others, a ball of fire shot down the cabin, blasting it with heat and a kerosene smell. In the choking smoke, people fought to help each other, struggling to the daylight and away from the wreckage amid the wail of approaching sirens.

The crash track was clawed into the earth. It was strewn with passengers, some unconscious, some dazed, in a trail that led to the severed tail section. The people in that section who were able to helped others free themselves, then stumbled aimlessly, staring at the foul cloud of black smoke rising from the main fuselage.

The cockpit had separated and had come to rest some seventy yards down the runway.

Amid the dust and swirling smoke, rescuers pulled bleeding crew members from the wreckage. Captain Al-Anjari passed in and out of consciousness as he glimpsed the scene: his plane in smoldering pieces, passengers staggering through the carnage.

Amid the cries of victims and sirens, he turned his head to the sky, as if the answer to the horror was written there.

Manhattan, New York

Half a world away from the crash, Kate handed Grace her backpack and unlocked their apartment door. They started to leave for Grace’s school when Vanessa called from the living room.

“Kate! You should see this!”

Vanessa was working on her laptop while watching a breakfast program. The TV showed burning pieces of a jetliner and the graphic at the bottom read, “Breaking News: Plane Crash.”

“Turn it up, Vanessa,” Kate said.

“…happening now in the UK. We’re seeing live pictures of a Starglide Blue Wing 250, Shikra Airlines Flight 418, from Kuwait City to London. The plane crashed just short of the southern runway at London’s Heathrow Airport. The airline has confirmed there were two hundred passengers and eight crew aboard and while we don’t have verified figures, officials are confirming there are fatalities…”

A thousand thoughts blazed through Kate’s mind.

Her heart went out to the crash victims and their families, and she thought of the message she’d received, warning of another incident.

Oh my God, is this it? Is there a connection?

More questions swirled, but Kate had little time. She had to take care of her priorities.

“Let’s go, honey.” She turned to Grace. “Let’s get you to school.”

During the nine-block walk to the school, Kate made several calls and sent several texts, trying to get a handle on the new tragedy.

“Mom, you’re walking too fast!”

“Sorry, sweetie.”

“Does the plane crash mean you’re going to work more?”

“Maybe. Maybe Nancy or Vanessa will have to pick you up today.”

“We’re still going to the zoo and the bubble show in the park this weekend, right?”

“That’s the plan. But we’ll have to see.”

“Could we shop for my new shoes, too?”

“We talked about the shoes, honey. Did you get your report done?”

“Yes.”

After hugs and kisses at the school, Kate called the newsroom. As she hurried to the subway, phone pressed to her ear, the news assistant put her through to an editor.

“Reeka Beck.”

“Reeka, it’s Kate. I’m trying to reach Chuck. He’s not responding to my messages.”

“He’s in a meeting. Is this about the Heathrow crash?”

“Yes. I’m on my way in and I think we need to-”

“We’re on the story. Our London bureau’s dispatched people to Heathrow and I’ve got Sloane looking into any connections here.”

“Sloane? Does he know about the warning message I got? At the meeting, Graham ordered the message be kept confidential.”

“I know, but word gets around in a newsroom and I had to let Sloane know so he could work on the story. You two are teamed on it, or did you forget?”

Kate rolled her eyes. Where was Chuck when she needed him?

“I’m making calls, too, Reeka.”

“You do that, but I think we’re covered.”

Anger boiled in Kate’s gut as she reached the stairs leading down to the 125th Street station. She wanted to scream at Reeka.

“Kate? Kate, I think we need to-”

Kate ended the call.

Thirty-five minutes later Kate was at her desk, where she continued making calls, including a number to the offices of Shikra Airlines in Kuwait, London and New York. She also sent messages to a number of sources and kept up with the latest coverage on Heathrow.

The newsroom’s large flat-screen monitors were tuned to 24/7 news channels, all of which were reporting on the crash.

Most networks had reached witnesses and experts to comment and speculate, while images of emergency vehicles and first responders working in the smoldering aftermath played live.

“We can now confirm at least nine fatalities,” the anchor on Britain’s Sky News reported. “That’s nine dead in the crash of Shikra Airlines Flight 418 at Heathrow and that number is expected to rise.”

The man at the desk for the BBC cupped a hand to his ear and said, “Our Miranda Foster reports that Scotland Yard is stating that so far nothing suggests this tragedy is terror related.”

Kate kept track of the wire stories flowing in from AP and Reuters then went to the raw copy from Newslead’s London bureau.

LONDON-A Shikra Airlines jet from Kuwait City carrying 208 people crashed while attempting to land, killing at least nine people and injuring dozens of others at one of the world’s busiest airports.

National investigators will speak to surviving crew members and study the plane’s flight data recorder and maintenance records to determine what caused the deadly crash landing at Heathrow Airport.

Nothing so far has surfaced to identify terrorism as the cause, a source at Scotland Yard said.

Nigel Ashworth, an aviation specialist, said the characteristics of impact would point to a total and sudden loss of engine power as a possible cause.

Upon impact the plane, a Starglide Blue Wing 250, broke into three pieces, with the tail, main fuselage and front cockpit sections strewn over several hundred yards. Some passengers spilled from the aircraft still strapped in their seats, while others remained in the wreckage.

Fire trucks responded by spraying fire-retardant foam around the wreckage before paramedics could load the injured onto the thirty ambulances dispatched to the scene.

Kate thought the story was strong.

It went on with witness accounts from survivors Newslead staff had reached at Hillingdon Hospital, where most of the injured had been taken.

As Kate read to the bottom, something twigged in the back of her mind and she reread two paragraphs:

Harold Harker, editor of the Air Industry Network, an online specialty site, said the problem seemed to take place in the flight’s final seconds.

“It’s as if they encountered a sudden and major malfunction, as if a switch had been thrown to slam them into the earth,” he said. “It is very odd.”

Harker’s comments made the tiny hairs at the back of Kate’s neck stand up because they echoed what the captain of EastCloud Flight 4990 had told her.

Her phone rang.

“Paul Murther at the NTSB returning your call.”

“Thanks for getting back to me, Paul. Is the NTSB going to take part in the investigation of today’s Heathrow crash?”

“I can confirm that we’re sending a team of investigators at the request of the UK’s Air Accidents Investigation Branch because the aircraft involved was built in the US.”

“Will you be looking for similarities with EastCloud Flight Forty-nine Ninety?”

“We can’t speculate on the focus of the investigation but we won’t rule anything out. That’s all I can tell you at this point.”