D. Wearmouth: First Activation

“I want to talk to the pilot,” Bernie replied as he tried to edge past.

“You can’t do that, sir.”

The steward put his arm up and calmly blocked Bernie’s access. Bernie wasn’t giving up, he pushed forward, trying to force past the steward’s arm.

“Sir, please go back to your seat.”

The steward was now actively attempting to push Bernie back down the aisle.

I could see this situation escalating, and all of us being arrested at JFK for causing a disturbance.

“Come on. We’ll find out later,” I said, grabbing Bernie by the shoulder and pulling him back.

Bernie turned around, but grumbled as he moved back to his seat about us being treated like cattle.

“Don’t you mean mushrooms?” I said.

“Mushrooms?”

“We’re kept in the dark and fed on shit.”

Bernie burst out laughing and forcefully slapped my back.

“British humour, I love it.”

I returned to my seat and found Jack smiling up at me, “Are we going to spend our time in New York in an airport cell? I bet you managed to annoy at least one person.”

“You’re wrong, actually. I stopped Bernie from getting into trouble. You know how bad behaviour in the sky is viewed nowadays.”

I said the last part with a knowing wink. On our trip last year, Jack had been arrested when we landed in Majorca, for being drunk and taking photographs of random passengers.

“He sounds worse than me, Harry. That’s your good deed for the day then,” Jack laughed.

I sat down and we both looked out of the window. I could now see land in the distance and the flight screen indicated thirty minutes until arrival.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We are still experiencing communication problems with JFK, so we will remain in a holding pattern until contact is re-established.”

The last sentence drew a few nervous laughs. Hopefully, we wouldn’t have long to wait, although it was encouraging that the plane was circling over our destination.

My thoughts drifted to a conversation I had with Andy and Dave the previous day. They had chosen the earlier flight because it was cheaper, and I took great pleasure in teasing them about being thrifty. With the extra hotel cost and expenses, there would be no difference. However, as the delay started to eat into our trip, I imagined the smug grins plastered over their faces at the hotel if they read about our delay.

Jack was shuffling uncomfortably in his seat.

“We’ll be laughing at this tonight, you just wait and see,” I said.

He nodded and started to read the in-flight magazine. I stared out of the window for the next ten minutes, looking at the view below us. Andy and Dave were probably already in a bar, while we were wasting time in the air because of a technical fuck up.

“I wonder if we end up using the full two hours of fuel,” Jack said, as I viewed the still landscape below us.

To distract Jack and chew up a bit of time, I suggested we go through our favourite top ten movies.

“Cool,” said Jack, “I’ll start. Predator.”

“No way! That’s just Arnie running around in the jungle.”

“What about Gladiator, that’s…”

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We are now starting our final descent and will be arriving into New York at three-thirty local time.”

We both grinned at the news.

Ironic cheers rang around the cabin. We must have been allocated a slot. Order had been restored and I could almost taste the first beer of the day. The cabin crew came through the plane to check that we had our seatbelts on and tray tables up. Then, they strapped themselves in for landing. We eventually touched down on the runway and were pulled back into our seats, as we slowed down then turned towards the terminal.

There was no landing announcement, but I didn’t care. We had arrived and that was all that mattered.

“Thank God that’s over, and we’re finally here. I know the delay wasn’t too long, but that flight felt like an eternity,” Jack said.

“Let’s just get through customs and check-in at the hotel. I’ll call Dave and Andy while we wait for our bags and tell them we expect a drink waiting for us in the hotel bar.”

I changed my watch and had brushed off the previous events. An hour delay was nothing and our plane was luxurious, compared to travelling in a Hercules or Chinook.

While moving towards the terminal, the plane juddered to an abrupt halt. I looked through my window and the airport appeared quiet. I couldn’t see any small airport vehicles buzzing around, ground crew directing us in, or any signs of movement from the terminal. Something was not right, and I wasn’t the only person to notice.

“Oh my god!” A lady screamed from two rows behind us.

Other shouts began to fill the cabin.

“What the…?”

“Oh no. Oh Jesus Christ, look over there, at the gate on the corner!”

“Where?”

“The jet bridge.”

I squeezed against the window to get the right angle to see the gate.

Hanging by his neck from the open entrance of the jet bridge, was what seemed to be a member of the ground crew. There was little doubt that he was dead, his arms dangled limply by his sides and he was slowly spinning around in the breeze.

I elbowed Jack, “Swap seats and have a look at this.”

We switched positions and I noticed Bernie looking over from his seat.

“What did you see out there?”

“There’s a man hanging from the gate by his neck! I couldn’t see anyone else.”

“There’s somebody lying below the gate. Are they dead as well? I think I can make out a pool of blood around the body,” Jack said. “Look at the luggage truck next to the gate. There’s a man hanging out of the passenger seat with blood all over his face and someone else slumped over the wheel!”

An anxious steward’s announcement came over the loudspeaker telling all passengers to remain seated, moments later; Bernie arrived at our row and attempted to look over Jack’s shoulder.

“Let me see,” he said, waving for Jack to lean forward.

“Be my guest,” he replied and shifted to one side.

While most of the people around us remained gob-smacked and could only splutter out short sentences of astonishment, Bernie had already developed his own theory, “I think this looks like a terrorist attack. They’ve obviously taken over the whole of JFK airport and killed some of the ground crew.”

The steward’s announcement was repeated, but there was no calming the passengers who had seen the gruesome scene outside the windows.

“They would need a whole terrorist army to get through all of the security at the airport. If that’s what happened, where are they now?” Jack replied.

“The terrorists will be holed up inside with hostages. Homeland Security will be outside now, figuring out how to manage the situation.”

“I can’t see any vehicles around with flashing lights, no helicopters in the air, nothing,” I said.

“Right, that’s it. I am going to see the pilot and no steward is stopping me this time.”

Bernie stormed towards the cockpit, barging past other passengers who had stood to get a view from the window. I decided to follow. He wasn’t the first to have the idea and a small crowd, mostly from business class, had gathered at the front of the plane demanding answers.

The cockpit door slowly opened and the captain appeared, quieting the crowd. I stood on a seat close to the front of the cabin so I could get a good view of the captain. He was a tall, older looking man with grey hair, and looked visibly shaken.

“I can only tell you what I know, but it’s not much more than you’ve already seen. We’re going against procedure by even landing here, but I had to make a decision before we ran out of fuel,” he said.