Perigee (35 page)

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Authors: Patrick Chiles

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Thrillers

BOOK: Perigee
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Hammond cocked an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked, his interest piqued. “Please go on.”

“That’s the problem…we can’t. Without the records, the work officially didn’t happen.”

“I get that part,” he said with exasperation. “What’s the
unofficial
line on this?”

“Walt Donner said he removed the module on the night of the incident. He took it down to Avionics, had it bench tested and reinstalled when the component checked out,” he said, looking at his notes. “We
really
need that part. It would be easy to see if anyone’s been fooling with it…we’d expect to find minor impedance deviations in the processor chips.”

“But there’s no record of anything?”

Posey cleared his throat, joining the discussion. “We spoke with the night supervisor in QC, and he says that Donner approached him in the office three nights ago. They were having a conversation, and he left Donner alone so he could take a smoke break.”

Hammond was going to question why when Davis broke in. “We don’t allow the master records office to stay unoccupied,” he explained. “And this was right after you first called me up here, so I left him there alone. After we started asking questions, he realized Donner had probably played him.”

“So who’s dirty here?” Hammond asked impatiently.

“Donner’s the obvious target,” Posey hesitated to say.

“But you’re not sure…”

“I still need to run down some other theories,” he explained, “before I get all hot and bothered over the obvious one.”

“Allow me to make it more obvious,” Hammond said. “There’s more. Our engineer on the Block II flight found some interesting glitches in the control software…” he continued, and explained Will Gardner’s discovery. “Somebody really knew what they were doing. We could be looking at industrial espionage on a scale I’ve never seen. That means the FBI gets involved, which turns this into a three-way pissing match between them, the NTSB, and the FAA. I do not want us to be caught up in that family feud, gentlemen.”

“This also means there’s another common thread,” Davis said. “Avionics.”

Hammond watched as Posey quickly made note of that, and lowered his voice as he looked at them both. “I don’t have to tell you both how sensitive this is. Something nasty is going on here, so keep your offices locked and your computers off the network. The only other people who know what you’re doing are Gardner, Stratton, and Grant. Keep it that way.”

70

 

Denver

 

Hammond relaxed behind his desk as the morning sun streamed in, and put the previous day’s drama out of his mind. It was a beautiful day, a hot cup of tea sat next to him, and he clasped his hands lazily over his stomach in appreciation of it all.

The man standing before him was not nearly as carefree.

“Walter J. Donner,” Hammond pronounced, casually flipping through his personnel file. “Been here for twenty years, long before I came along and screwed up the place, right?”

He remained silent.

“You’re not being very smart about this, Donner.”

“Smart about what?” he finally blurted out. “I didn’t do anything wrong, but here I am, about to get my ass handed to me.”

Hammond remained silent, and finally tossed a thick file in front of him.

“Funny. That’s not what these records tell us,” he challenged. “You were the last man to work on 501 before it ended up, well,
up there
. And now one of our best captains is dead. A man I considered a personal friend for a long time
before
either one of us ever set foot here. I take this very seriously, Donner. And so do the Feds.”

That last remark got to him. No one relished the idea of being the central focus of an accident investigation. The best he could hope for would be to have his license suspended.

Donner’s famous temper finally revealed itself. “We bench-tested that damned module
twice
before installing it!” he bellowed. “I don’t just re-rack parts and sign ‘em off!”

“That’s the reputation you have. Maximum hours, minimum effort…makes it hard for a guy like me to do business.”

Donner muttered, cursing to himself. “He was right.”

“Who?”

“Leo Taggart. He warned me this would turn into a witch hunt.”

“Taggart was talking to you?” Hammond asked, hiding his surprise.

“Damn straight he was. He knew you guys would be looking for a patsy, that’s why he had me get copies of all those records from QC. So when something came up missing, we’d be able to prove it.”

Bingo
, Hammond realized. “Just so I’m straight on this—humor me—you did have that FADEC module bench-tested?”

“You’d better believe it. Chen couldn’t duplicate the problem so I reinstalled it, ran an operational check with power on the plane, and signed it off. All per the maintenance manual,” he said proudly.

Yet there’s nothing about it in that pile of work logs,
Hammond thought. “Okay, Walter…I believe you. Somehow we’ll find the records to back you up,” he said sympathetically. “We’ll get to the bottom of this one way or the other.”

“I hope so, Mr. Hammond…especially since you didn’t see fit to call in a union rep for a disciplinary meeting. I could grieve this in a heartbeat.”

And you certainly would, you bum
, he realized. “Tell you what…this situation’s getting ugly and I need you to lay low for a while. You’re right about the union rep, so how about I give you a week off and we call it even?”

“It’s a deal,” Donner said triumphantly.

“Just hand your shop keys and ID badge to the security guard on your way out,” Hammond instructed while waving him to the door.

“What? You’re
suspending
me?”

Hammond stood and leaned over the desk. “You just admitted to screwing around with controlled documents, and now we have a gaping hole in official records for a spaceplane that’s the subject of a Federal investigation. If you wanted to avoid being fingered, that was one dumbass way to go about it.”

“So what am I supposed to do now?” Donner pleaded.

“Keep your mouth shut unless you want me to personally sic my lawyers on you,” Hammond said. “You can whine to the union when you get back, if we have a company left. Now get out of my office.”


 

Leo Taggart had been quietly waiting outside, and gave Donner a disinterested nod as he stormed out. He strode briskly into Hammond’s office and stood in front of his desk. He cleared his throat. “Arthur, I need a few minutes of your time. This is very unpleasant for me, so I’ll just get right to it.”

“Okay,” Hammond said suspiciously.

“You’ve been so absorbed with this rescue and the, well,
tragic
aftermath, that I doubt you’ve paid much attention to other business matters lately.”

“Our stock’s in the crapper, if that’s what you mean,” he replied. “Not a whole hell of a lot we can do about that right now. Deal with the immediate crisis, and the rest will have to work itself out. But it’s a good buying opportunity for somebody.”

“You’re correct, Arthur. It is. That’s what I needed to speak with you about.”

Hammond nodded. “Go on.”

“I only have the best interests of the company at heart,” Taggart said, “which is why I’ve been investing in our stock. Trust me, it would’ve gone much lower without my intervention. And the board knows it.”

“We never authorized a stock buyback,” Hammond said.

“You’re correct,” Taggart said calmly. “I’m talking about a personal investment.”

The hair on the back of his neck bristled, and he suspected what was coming next. “You bought controlling interest?”

“I did,” Taggart said. “And as of ten minutes ago, I’ve petitioned the board to remove you as President and CEO.”

Hammond glowered at him, saying nothing.

“Relax, Arthur,” he said soothingly. “It’s not immediate. They still have to vote on it. But they are very concerned about this NTSB investigation and the attendant bad press. You have to understand: no one else does what we do. If this ends badly, it’s not just one company that could collapse. It could kill an entire industry.”

An industry which Hammond was thoroughly invested in. It had been his life. He was barely able to hear the rest of Taggart’s speech.

“So you understand why I had to do this. I was in a position to keep us solvent and support the industry in the bargain.”

“I’m sure it
was
a bargain,” Hammond said. “I didn’t know you were worth that much, Leo.”

“You paid my family well when you bought this airline out of bankruptcy, much more than was probably deserved. And I have a few…
outside
ventures of my own.”

I’m sure you do, you little bastard
, Hammond thought. The pieces were rapidly falling into place.

“But until the board can vote,” he said, not having to point out that half of it was made up of his family members, “They’ve authorized me to assume CEO duties in the interim. I will handle all business decisions, and you will be on paid leave until the accident board has issued a final ruling. We are also ceasing our own investigative activities and deferring fully to the NTSB.”

“You mean hang around long enough to be a scapegoat,” Hammond growled. “I’m an engineer, Leo, not a money man. I don’t think like you, but I’m sure as hell no fool. Your pal Colin Magrath is certain to sue the daylights out of us once he recovers. Someone’s got to take the fall for that, right?”

“Please, Arthur,” he said. “Paranoia doesn’t suit you.”

“It’s not paranoia when everyone really
is
out to get you.”

“You always said no one man can put himself before the good of the company. I have to do this, for everyone’s sake.”

“For your
own
sake,” Hammond scoffed.

“Now that’s just mean, Arthur. But I understand how this is difficult for you.”

“I’ll give you this, Leo...you always were a good BS artist. I just never knew how good.”


 

Hammond quickly made his way down to the control center. He breezed by the Clipper desks and waved for Penny and Charlie to follow him into an empty meeting room.

“Any news for us?” Charlie asked quietly as Penny shut the door behind them.

He tried not to laugh. Explanations could wait. “Let’s just say I need you both working full-time on this re-entry plan,” he said hurriedly. “You
do
have one, right?”

They exchanged concerned glances before Penny spoke up. “We do, but it’s not completely fleshed out yet. Structures and performance are both looking at the details.”

“Brief me later,” he replied. “Our little ad-hoc detective team may have found the proverbial smoking gun…not that we can do anything about it,” he said, and explained Taggart’s power play.

Grant whistled, but remained focused on what they could do now. “Art, the people involved don’t strike me as being the type. Donner’s a crusty SOB, but he’s no saboteur.”

“Taggart always was a damned snake in the grass. I wouldn’t rule out anyone, Art,” Penny said. “Remember that FedEx pilot who wigged out back in the ‘90’s, tried to hijack one of their own airplanes and crash it into the Memphis hub?”

“I don’t disagree with you. Neither does Posey,” Hammond said. “I don’t think our primary suspect is smart enough to have inserted some bogus commands into anything. But there are no records to trace, and no physical evidence to test.”

“And that would be the only way to prove anything,” Penny said.

“So we have half of the puzzle here...” Grant said.

“And the other half’s up there,” Hammond said, finishing the thought. “Without it, everything else is just supposition. We have to get 501 back down here. And I’m willing to bet whoever did this is counting on that not happening, either,” Hammond said as he got up to leave. “Watch yourselves. I’m also willing to bet that person is working inside this building, and he’s got help.” And that help probably had a direct line to Leo Taggart’s office.


 

On his way out, Hammond took his personal phone and dashed out a quick text message to Posey:

YOU WERE RIGHT…DONNER’S A STOOGE…WORKING W/ TAGGART.

 

As he walked past the hangar, he tried to absorb the activity buzzing around the precious spaceplanes that had inspired him for so many decades. Almost since graduate school, he had mulled over the designs and refined the concept of operations in a notebook that never left his side. Now worn from use, he gently opened the thin leather cover and gazed pensively at the notes he’d left himself over the years. So much of it in a younger man’s handwriting, so many mental rabbit trails scratched over but never entirely scrapped. One never knew when they might turn out to be useful.

Suddenly, an almost-forgotten quote elbowed its way into his thoughts. It was one he’d heard from Taggart: “Passionate men are easy to manipulate. You only need to play to their desired outcome.”

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