“I’m only interested in the last three hours.”
“I understand,” Wong said. “But to recalibrate those three hours, we have to go back to where the bus blew, and work forward. We have to calibrate twenty-three hours of data. And it’s taking us about two minutes a frame to recalibrate.”
She frowned. “What are you telling me?” But she was already calculating it in her head.
‘Two minutes a frame means it’ll take us sixty-five weeks.”
“That’s more than a year!”
“Working twenty-four hours a day. Real world, it’d take us three years to generate the data.”
“Rob, we need this now.”
“It just can’t be done, Casey. You’re going to have to work this without the FDR. I’m sorry, Casey. That’s the way it is.”
She called Accounting. “Is Ellen Fong there?”
“She didn’t come in today. She said she was working at home.”
“Do you have her number?”
“Sure,” the woman said. “But she won’t be there. She had to go to a formal dinner. Some charity thing with her husband.”
‘Tell her I called,” Casey said.
She called Video Imaging in Glendale, the company that was working on the videotape for her. She asked for Scott Harmon. “Scott’s gone for the day. He’ll be in at nine tomorrow morning.”
She called Steve Nieto, the Fizer in Vancouver, and got his secretary. “Steve’s not here,” she said. “He had to leave early. But I know he wanted to talk to you. He said he had bad news.”
Casey sighed. That seemed to be the only kind of news she was getting. “Can you reach him?”
“Not until tomorrow.” “Tell him I called.”
Her cell phone rang.
“Jesus, that Benson is unpleasant,” Richman said. “What’s his problem? I thought he was going to hit me.”
“Where are your
“At the office. Want me to come to you?”
“No,” Casey said. “It’s after six. You’re done for today.”
“But—”
“See you tomorrow, Bob.”
She hung up.
On the way out of Hangar 5, she saw the electrical crews rigging TPA 545 for the CET that night. The entire aircraft had been raised ten feet into the air, and now rested on heavy blue metal fixtures beneath each wing, and fore and aft on the fuselage. The crews had then slung black safety webbing beneath the underside of the aircraft, some twenty feet above the ground. All along the fuselage, doors and accessory panels were open, and electricians standing on the webbing were running cables from the junction boxes back to the main CET test console, a six-foot square box that was placed in the center of the floor to one side of the aircraft.
The Cycle Electrical Test, as it was known, consisted of sending electrical impulses to all parts of the aircraft’s electrical system. In rapid succession, every component was tested—everything from cabin lights to reading lights, cockpit display panels, engine ignition, and landing-gear wheels. The full test cycle ran two hours. It would be repeated a dozen times, throughout the night
As she passed the console, she saw Teddy Rawley. He gave her a wave, but didn’t approach her. He was busy; undoubtedly he’d heard that Flight Test was scheduled three days from now, and he would want to be sure the electrical test was performed correctly.
She waved to Teddy, but he had already turned away. Casey headed back to her office.
Outside, it was growing dark, the sky a deep blue. She walked back toward Administration, hearing the distant rush of take-offs from Burbank airport. On the way, she saw Amos Peters, shuffling toward his car, carrying a stack of papers under his arm. He looked back and saw her.
“Hey, Casey.”
“Hi, Amos.”
He dropped his papers with a thud on the roof of his car, bent to unlock the door. “I hear they’re putting the screws to you.”
“Yeah.” She was not surprised he knew. The whole plant probably knew by now. It was one of the first things she had learned at Norton. Everyone knew everything, minutes after it happened.
“You going to do the interview?”
“I said I would.”
“You going to say what they want you to say?”
She shrugged.
“Don’t get high and mighty,” he said. “These are television people. They’re beneath pond scum on the evolutionary scale. Just lie. Hell with it”
“We’ll see.”
He sighed. “You’re old enough to know how it works,” he said. “You going home now?”
“Not for a while.”
“I wouldn’t be hanging around the plant at night Casey.”
“Why not?”
“People are upset” Amos said. “Next few days, it’d be better to go home early. You know what I mean?”
“I’ll bear it in mind.”
“Do that Casey. I mean it”
He got in his car, and drove off.
QA
7:20 p.m.
Norma was gone. The QA office was deserted. The cleaning crews had already started in the back offices; she heard a tinny portable radio playing “Run Baby Run.”
Casey went to the coffeemaker, poured a cup of cold coffee, and took it into her own office. She flicked on the lights, stared at the stack of papers waiting on her desk.
She sat down and tried not to be discouraged by the way things were going. She had twenty hours until the interview, and her leads were falling apart
Just lie. Hell with it.
She sighed. Maybe Amos was right
She stared at the papers, pushing aside the picture of John Chang and his smiling family. She didn’t know what to do, except go through the papers. And check.
She again came to the charts of the flight plan. Again, they teased her. She remembered she had had an idea, just before Marder called her the night before. She had a feeling … but what was it?
Whatever it was, it was gone now. She set the flight plan aside, including the General Declaration (Outward/Inward) that had been filed with it which listed the crew:
John Zhen Chang, Captain 5/7/51 M
Leu Zan Ping, First Officer 3/11/59 M
Richard Yong, First Officer 9/9/61 M
Gerhard Reimann, First Officer 7/23/49 M
Thomas Chang, First Officer 6/29/70 M
Henri Marchand, Engineer 4/25/69 M
Robert Sheng, Engineer 6/13/62 M
Harriet Chang, Flight Attendant 5/12/77 F
Linda Ching, Flight Attendant 5/18/76 F
Nancy Morley, Flight Attendant 7/19/75 F
Kay Liang, Flight Attendant 6/4/67 F
John White, Flight Attendant 1/30/70 M
M. V. Chang, Flight Attendant 4/1/77 F
Sha Van Hao, Flight Attendant 3/13/73 F
Y. Jiao, Flight Attendant 11/18/76 F
Harriet King, Flight Attendant 10/10/75 F
B. Choi, Flight Attendant 11/18/76 F
Yee Chang, Flight Attendant 1/8/74 F
She paused, sipped the cold coffee. There was something odd about this list she thought. But she couldn’t put her finger on it
She set the list aside.
Next a transcript of communications from Southern California Air Traffic Approach Control. As usual it was printed without punctuation, the transmission to 545 intermixed with transmissions to several other aircraft:
0543:12 UAH198 three six five ground thirty five thousand
0543:17 USA2585 on frequency again changed radios sorry about that
0543:15 ATAC one nine eight copy
0543:19 AAL001 fuel remaining four two zero one
0543:22 ATAC copy that two five eight five no problem we have you now
0543:23 TPA545 this is transpacific five four five we have an emergency
0543:26 ATAC affirmative zero zero one
0543:29 ATAC go ahead five four five
0543:31 TPA545 request priority clearance for emergency landing in los angeles
0543:32 AAL001 down to twenty nine thousand
0543:35 ATAC okay five four five understand you request priority clearance to land
0543:40 TPA545 affirmative
0543:41 ATAC say the nature of your emergency
0543:42 UAH 198 three two one ground thirty two thousand
0543:55 AALOOl holding two six nine
0544:05 TPA545 we have a passenger emergency we need ambulances on the ground i would say thirty or forty ambulances maybe more
0544:10 ATAC tpa five four five say again are you asking for forty ambulances
0544:27 UAH 198 turn one two four point niner
0544:35 TPA545 affirmative we encountered severe turbulence during flight we have injuries of passengers and flight crew
0544:48 ATAC copy one nine eight good day
0544:50 ATAC transpacific i copy your ground request for forty ambulances
0544:52 UAH198 thank you
Casey puzzled over the exchanges. Because they suggested very erratic behavior by the pilot.
For example, the Transpacific incident had occurred shortly after five in the morning. At that time, the plane was still in radio contact with Honolulu ARINC. With so many injuries, the captain could have reported an emergency to Honolulu.
But he hadn’t done that.
Why not?
Instead, the pilot continued to Los Angeles. And he had waited until he was about to land before reporting an emergency.
Why had he waited so long?
And why would he say the incident had been caused by turbulence? He knew that wasn’t true. The captain had told the stewardess the slats deployed. And she knew, from Ziegler’s audio, that the slats had deployed. So why hadn’t the pilot announced it? Why lie to approach control?