Flying Too Close to the Sun George Jehn (best non fiction books of all time .txt) 📖

intention of placing them in the grass alongside the taxiway, but stopped. In case the cops were dispatched, he’d remain with the boat to make a quick getaway. Plus, forensic tests would no doubt link the bags to the mud. So, he left them on the boat and sat on the bow waiting for the now familiar high-pitched jet engine whine and hopefully not a police siren.

.     .     .

Bill Francis glanced at the Runway Visual Range monitor in the tower and was surprised to see the airport visibility had increased to slightly more than a half-mile, with the RVR at three-thousand feet. He immediately went to the portly Heinz and asked, “The RVR on runway 22 indicates three-thousand feet. You want me to turn the motion sensors back on?”

Heinz looked incredulous. “What’re you fucking nuts? We’ll be lucky if it stays at three-thousand feet for even another five seconds, never mind five minutes, the time it takes to get them up and running. Leave ‘em off.”

“Whatever you say, but the regulations call for—”

“Goddamn it, Bill. I know what the regs state. Just do what I say.”

“Okay, it’s your call.”

Approximately a minute later the visibility dipped back to a quarter-mile. Pointing to the meter, Heinz said, “See. What’d I tell you?”

.     .     .

The huge tractor pushed the tri-jet back onto the ramp as easily as a child would roll a toy plane. Christina ordered the number one and three engines started and instructed Erik to leave the Auxiliary Power Unit, the APU, running to provide needed compressed air to start the remaining one. Woody called for taxi clearance and they were cleared to runway 22 Right via Alpha and November taxiways. The poor visibility required a reduced taxi speed.

“You guys were lucky to have arrived earlier,” Francis commented, “when the visibility was better. Right now we’re running delays up to thirty minutes inbound and we’ve already had a couple of missed approaches.”

“Are there any departure delays?” Woody anxiously inquired.

“No. All I need is a release from the En Route Center, which should take only a few minutes.”

They crossed over runway 15 Right and Francis instructed them to change to the tower frequency of 119.1. The big jet entered November taxiway, which ran parallel to 22 Right. The partially fog-obscured bright yellow sign indicating taxiway N2 soon came into view. They stopped at N2 and Christina positioned the 727 to block it so no other departing aircraft would be able to observe their forward cargo compartment door. As she set the parking brake the lever almost slipped from her sweaty fingertips.

“How long will it be until our clearance comes through?” Woody asked the tower.

“I called the High Altitude Center and it should only be a few more minutes.”

“Let’s crank up number two,” Christina commanded.

Erik reached up with trembling hands and shut off the air conditioning units to get the compressed air needed for start and turned on the four center tank fuel boost pump switches. Extending his arm, he could feel the damp perspiration under his armpit and the fine hairs on the nape of his neck quivering.

“We’ve got enough air pressure,” he announced.

.     .     .

Juni heard the sounds of an approaching jet and a moment later brilliant smudges emerged from the cloaked mist, as though a shroud had been lifted. Once it passed by, he ran to the edge of the taxiway and confirmed it was a Shuttle Air 727. But he still couldn’t make out the registration number on the tail. The noise was deafening and as he observed the plane came to a smooth halt. He ran toward the tail section until he could make out the number, N838SA. He dashed back to the boat and grabbed two duffel bags. Hugging the fuselage as he ran to the area near the forward cargo bin, he dropped them to the pavement, returned and got the other two. The roar of the engines increased and he figured they must be starting the final engine.

.     .     .

“Shuttle Air 1540 your clearance came in. You ready to copy?”

“Affirmative. Go ahead,” Woody replied as he copied and then read back the ATC clearance.

“You’re cleared into position and hold on Runway 22 Right.”

“Roger. It’ll be a moment ‘til we’re ready,” Woody replied, as the N2 gauge on the now-running number two engine reached thirty-five percent and Christina released the start switch.

“Let’s perform the remaining items on the After Start checklist,” she directed.

Erik interrupted. “Number two engine generator won’t come on line. I can’t get the breaker to close.”

She swiveled in her seat to get a better look at the engineer’s panel. “Try again,” she ordered. But the second attempt also failed. “What do the generator frequency and voltage show?”

“Both indicate zero.”

Woody turned around, attempting to get a look at the indications, but Christina stopped him. “Erik and I’ll handle this. Please notify the tower we’re holding on the taxiway with a mechanical problem and keep an eye out for conflicting traffic.”

Woody did as instructed. The tower operator wanted to know if the trouble required any type of assistance and asked for their exact location.

“Negative on the help. Hopefully, we can rectify it. We’re stopped on November taxiway at the intersection of N2.”

“Have you blocked access to the runway?”

“Affirmative. If anyone needs to get to 22 Right they can enter the runway at the taxiway behind us and back-taxi on the runway to the end.”

“Roger. Keep us informed of your status.”

“Take out your manual and check the possible causes,” Christina told Erik. “I don’t want to depart in this crummy weather with only two generators.”

“A circuit breaker might have popped.” Woody chimed in.

“Woody, please keep your eyes and ears outside. If you feel like you’ve got to do something else, pick up the PA and tell the passengers there will be a short delay while we try to resolve this.”

.     .     .

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and welcome aboard. This is First Officer Montgomery speaking. We