Missing (2 page)

Suddenly, the door behind them opened. John turned as Mary McGill walked in. She was neatly dressed in her uniform of a white blouse, black skirt and a black vest. She was the flight attendant for the first class passengers and the crew.

“
All the passengers are buckled in and ready. Would either of you like something to drink?”

Mary was in her late twenties, slim and about five foot eight. Her shoulder length light brown hair was in a low ponytail. She had been with the company for five years. While he hadn’t flown with her very much, John knew she was competent and good with the passengers.

“
When we get to cruising altitude, I’d like a cup of coffee,” John said.

“
Yes, sir.”

Pete requested the same thing.

“
How many passengers do we have traveling with us today?” John asked.

“
Not many, sir. Just six. All in first class.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Only six? I don’t understand why they didn’t cancel the flight.”

“
Actually, there was supposed to have been a hundred more,” Mary said. “A tour group cancelled at the last minute.”

He shook his head again. “Still, they should have cancelled the flight.”

“
I’m glad they didn’t,” Pete said. “They have reduced enough of our flights as it is. I have got to make a living or my wife is going to have to get a job.”

John nodded and looked out the side window. He watched as two planes landed and another plane moved forward onto the tarmac. Six planes were behind him.

“
I know.” And, he did. He wasn’t sure why he had said that. He wanted to get home too.

Mary McGill silently left the cockpit, closing the door behind her.

Five minutes later, they were fourth in line to take off. Pete looked at John.

“
So, this is really your last transcontinental flight?”

He nodded “Yes. I’m officially retired the minute I walk off the plane.”

“
Got any plans?”

“
Not yet. Julie and I have talked about several things, but haven’t decided on anything definite. We’ll have plenty of time to decide.” At least he hoped they would. He still wasn’t sure what was going on with Julie. All he knew was that, medically, something was going on. Right now, all he wanted to do was to be with her.

“
Lucky you.” Pete paused a moment. “How long have you been with the company?”

“
Twenty five years,” John replied.

Pete shook his head. “That is a long time. Can’t blame you for retiring. I hope everything will be alright with Julie.”

John nodded. “Me too.”

Pete was quiet for a moment. John noticed he was looking out the front window. He looked in the same direction. There was a darkening on the horizon. He looked back at Pete, already knowing what was on his mind.

“
We will be fine. I think we can get up over it before it hits land. Doesn’t look it will be here in at least thirty minutes, so we can easily be up and over it before then.”

“
There are still two planes ahead of us.”

“
Still not a problem.”

John knew Pete wasn’t convinced. If they were taking off now, yes, there wouldn’t be a problem. The problem was that he didn’t have any idea how fast the storm was coming.

For the next few minutes, they were both quiet. John knew Pete was worried about the storm. Depending on how fast the two planes ahead of them took off, would depend on how fast they could get up in the air. There were at least six planes waiting to land, so he knew it would still be a few more minutes before they could take off.

Yes, it was dangerous to fly in a lightening storm. Planes have gone down before, but he was confident they would be able to get above the storm before things got dicey. Yes, it might be tight, but John still wasn’t worried. He had flown many times in storms and he had always gotten the plane to its destination safely. He had no doubt he would again today. Besides, Julie was waiting on him. Nine more hours and he would be home permanently.

Ten minutes later, John looked out the side window one last time. He took a deep breath. This would be the last time he would see Heathrow airport, unless they came over on a vacation trip. That was a good idea. He would like to show Julie all the things he had seen here on his time off, when he had hours and days to kill before he got a return flight. He had seen a lot in London, but there was still a lot more to see. He was sure Julie would love what he had come to love here. Yes, he would bring her here for a vacation. Hopefully, sometime soon.

As he faced forward again, it was now their turn. He taxied onto the tarmac, got the plane into position, and then began revving up the engines.

“
DAC 3351, you are now cleared for takeoff. Be cautious of incoming storm and turbulence on takeoff,” the control tower said.

“
DAC 3351, cleared for takeoff. Confirmed,” repeated Pete.

The air traffic controller watched as the plane began picking up speed as it moved down the runway. He watched as the plane slowly began to rise. It almost seemed as if it was going up at a 90-degree angle, although he knew it was just an optical illusion. Soon the plane was out of sight. Looking back down at the screen he watched as the plane continued west. Soon, it was far enough away and he turned his attention back to the flights ready to take off and those ready to land.

A few moments later, the traffic controller looked on the radar for DAC 3351. He was worried about the incoming storm. It was getting close. Several planes were now on hold to take off. Planes waiting to land were getting priority to be able to land before the storm hit. Still, he was sure DAC 3351 was gaining enough altitude. At the speed he was going, he was sure the pilot would get above the storm before it hit land. Smooth sailing, he whispered as he watched the plane get closer to the end of his radar.

In the cockpit, John Murphy was continuing to get the plane to a higher altitude. The storm was now just ahead of them. The clouds were dark and menacing. However, he wasn’t worried; he was almost above it now. He looked at the altitude meter and knew it wouldn’t be much longer.

Glancing out the side window, he saw they were now over the Channel. A few more minutes and they would be out of danger. He held his breath as the plane flew into the top of the dark clouds.

Ten minutes later, DAC flight 3351 disappeared from the radar screen.

CHAPTER THREE

EARLY FRIDAY MORNING

WASHINGTON, DC

James Fitzpatrick opened the door to his office. His secretary, Patty Howard, was already at her desk. Somehow, she always managed to beat him into the office. Today, she was here earlier than normal. So was he. He wondered how she knew he was coming in early. He said hello to her as he passed by her desk and walked into his office, closing the door behind him. He walked to his desk, laying his briefcase on top and then sat down in his high back leather chair. Then he glanced around his office.

He was promoted to this job a year ago. He had first come to FEMA almost seven years ago and had worked his way up in the organization. With the new job came the office. It is a spacious twenty-foot square office. Dark oak paneling covered the walls. Three matching four-drawer cabinets were against the wall to the right of his desk. Ahead of him, was a 46-inch flat panel television. He kept it tuned to CNN, who always managed to be the first on the scene to any disaster. For now, the TV was off. Nothing major was going on.

Fitzpatrick looked down at his desk. It was six feet long and dark oak. The only thing on top was his computer. Everything else he kept locked inside, away from inquiring eyes. Mainly from his boss.

To his right is a wall of ceiling-to-floor windows, which look out over the Washington skyline. He could see the Capitol building and a variety of other Federal office buildings from here, but not the White House. Still, it was an impressive sight.

When he first got the job, he loved it. He still does, but he had begun to hate it here. Not the job, just one person in particular. Three months ago, in early May, Glen Harper became the Administrator of FEMA. From then on, Fitzpatrick’s life here went downhill. No matter what he did, either Harper took credit for it or he chastised him for doing things behind his back. To make matters worse, it had been a busy summer.

It is now late August and the weather occurrences are beginning to wind down. That is if another hurricane doesn’t kick up in the Atlantic. They were still reeling from Hurricane Marco that had hit Texas a month ago. He had spent two weeks down there. It had been hard work, but he was satisfied they had served the people and the state and now lives were getting back to normal.

After the debacle of Katrina a few years ago, the situation of the trailers was the problem. When he first got the job, he made this his prime focus. A safe home was the most important way of making people feel things would get better; that all was not lost. They no longer used the simple temporary trailers they had used before. Now, they were using commercial grade, long-term mobile homes. It had become obvious that many people did not have the financial means to rebuild. The only solution was the permanent trailers.

It had taken him a while to work out the logistics, so when Hurricane Marco hit Texas a month ago, this was the trailers first trial. Because many of the local residents were poor, he came up with the idea to place the trailers on the lots where the destroyed homes used to be. The city and county councils approved of the idea, and State and local officials in Texas approved of the trailers too. Now, there were no more trailer parks, unless it was necessary. No more formaldehyde problems. Of course, the lots had to be prepared. They had to be able to tie down the trailer, and have water and utility connections hooked up. But, they had worked out all the problems.

Fortunately, hundreds of volunteers had come in to lend a hand. Once the hurricane was over, they came in droves to help with the clean up and settling people back in their homes or the mobile homes. Reports told him over half of the displaced people were now living in the mobile homes. He was sure the mobile homes were better than the houses some of the people had lived in before; based on the debris he had seen.

Fitzpatrick sighed and leaned back in his chair. Yes, it was a good idea. He was glad people appreciated his idea of the trailers.

The downside was that Harper had been claiming it was his idea for the past three weeks. When Harper came into FEMA, Fitzpatrick had conferred with him on what he was working on. Even showed him the plans he had developed. Harper agreed it was a good idea and that it would open up jobs for people to work on manufacturing the trailers. But, when Hurricane Marco hit, Harper began claiming this was what he had personally been working on. And, he claimed it all the way up the ladder, all the way up to the President.

Then there was the press conference. Fitzpatrick clenched his teeth as he remembered what Harper had said. He was in Texas at the time, dealing with the after-effects of Marco, when he found out about the press conference. Later that same day, he saw a taped copy of the speech. At the time, he was glad he was in Texas. Harper should have been glad too. He would have come close to killing him if he had been in Washington. Now, the public thought it was Harper’s idea. He never forgave Harper for what he had done.

Fitzpatrick was glad it was Friday. His wife wasn’t going to be happy though. He was going out of town again. He was going back to Texas to make sure everything was going well. He had gotten reports from his field supervisor’s and had watched CNN. If anyone was going to report the truth, CNN would. From the reports, things were going well. But he wanted to see for himself and to see if there was anything more he could do. And to get out of Washington.

Just then, Patty came in with a cup of coffee for him. She sat the cup down on his desk.

“
Thanks Patty,” he said. “What’s on the schedule today?”

“
I’ve got it all on the calendar on your computer. Mr. Harper called this morning. He wants to talk to you. I tried to tell him you had a busy schedule, but he was insistent.”

“
So, when did you schedule him for?” Fitzpatrick was already thinking of ways to get out of the meeting.

“
Two o’clock this afternoon. I tried to get it as late in the day as possible.”

He was sure Patty knew the problem he was having with Harper. He nodded.

“
Thanks. When is my first appointment?”

“
In half an hour. Ron Wilson wants to see you.”

Ron Wilson was the Assistant Administrator of Response and Recovery. Fitzpatrick had worked closely with Ron during hurricane Marco.

“
Okay, that will give me time to get ready for him. Thanks again for the coffee.” It was a subtle hint, but one that told her he needed peace and quiet right now. She nodded and walked back out of the office, closing the door behind her.

Fitzpatrick turned to his computer and turned it on. While he waited, he took a sip of coffee. It was hot and the best coffee he ever had. He made a mental note to have his wife call Patty for the recipe. His wife cannot make coffee to save her soul.

Then he leaned back in his chair, remembering his career. He was now the Assistant Administrator of Disaster Operations. He had held a similar job with the state government in Colorado. His goal was to be appointed to the Administrator of FEMA. He had held a similar position in Colorado in 1995. But, when the FEMA job opened in May, he was passed over.