“I don’t know what that means,” Julian said. “Plane is falling! How do I get it level?”
“N303GA have you flown a plane before?”
“No,” Julian responded.
A brief silence, then a voice he’d recognize anywhere came on the line.
“Lucky you have friends in high places, N303GA,” a woman’s voice filled the air.
“Damn it, Sunny! Get me out of this fucking mess,” Julian said, relief coursing through his body.
“I’m in an ASF military jet with Reggie. We’ve been following your plane this whole time. No way I was letting you get kidnapped. Now pay close attention because this is going to sound like Greek. I will describe what stuff looks like and just do exactly what I say,” Sunny said.
“You’re going to enjoy bossing me around, aren’t you?” Julian quipped.
Julian tightened his seat belt, then followed the instructions from Sunny on the radio. Within minutes, he’d brought the plane to level and re-engaged the autopilot.
“We’ll have you landed in about ten minutes,” Sunny said.
A loud beep filled the air.
“What was that?” Mena asked, straining forward.
Julian scanned the instrument panel, his eyes drawn to the flashing alert.
“Got a problem,” Julian spoke into the headset.
“What’s wrong?” Sunny asked.
“Fuel level low error message,” Julian said. An eerie quiet settled in the cockpit as the engines stopped. Mena glanced at him, terror in her eyes.
“Damn. You’re not close enough. Power on the fuel pumps and go full throttle,” Sunny barked in his ear.
Julian followed her directions, but the engines wouldn’t start.
The plane was going down.
Fast.
“Julian, listen to me. You’re going to have to land the plane on the water. It’s the best chance you have,” Sunny said. “The angles will be important. Too steep and the force of the collision will kill you. Out of balance and the plane could cartwheel and tear the aircraft to pieces.”
“You’re scaring the shit out of me, right now,” Julian said.
“I know you. You operate better when you know all the risks,” Sunny responded. “Water is no different from land. Just pretend that’s glass down there and you have to land this baby soft and gentle.”
Julian ignored the ocean looming closer through the window, focusing on the details of Sunny’s instructions instead. Muscles aching with tension, he held onto the control wheel as the plane dove closer and closer to the water. An island loomed straight ahead as the plane rocked back and forth. Julian glanced at Mena, her eyes squeezed shut as she braced for impact.
“Pull back on the yoke. Slowly!” Sunny directed.
Seconds later the plane struck the surface of the Caribbean Sea. The impact was deafening, shuddering the aircraft as water sprayed across the windshield. Julian fought to retain control of the wheel. His body bounced and jerked back and forth until the plane slammed to a stop, hurling him into the tight harness of the seat belt. Pain detonated across his chest, aggravating his cracked ribs and knocking the wind out of him. He fought to inhale, but the pain was searing and he almost blacked out from the effort.
“Good job, Montgomery,” Sunny’s voice crackled in the headset. “We have a visual of your location. Palmchat Islands Coast Guard has been alerted. Help is on the way.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you. I owe you Sunny,” Julian said.
“Damn right, you do.”
Leaning backward, he fumbled for the release of the seatbelt, then turned toward Mena.
