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Date Posted: 08:35:35 03/26/03 Wed
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: Say the Words - ch.48
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: Say the Words - ch.47" on 08:33:07 03/26/03 Wed

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

"There!" Charity shouted, pointing to two tiny blips in the southern sky.

Frank squinted, and blocking the sun's rays from his eyes with his hand, he gazed upward. "I only see two…."

Curtis turned and looked as well. "Josh should jump while he has the chance," he cautioned, assuming the pilot was still at the controls of the burning jet. "He'll never be able to land it."

Desperately, Sophie's eyes darted back and forth, from the divers to the wounded plane, assessing the tactical situation just as her father would have. Although it was virtually impossible to see the faces of the parachutists, Sophie was almost certain of their identities.

Staring up at the aircraft, flames shooting from one of its two engines, Sophie whispered softly, "It's not Josh…. It's my Dad…"

"Alex?" Charity exclaimed, shocked by the thought.

"He'd never abandon his command…." Sophie stated matter-of-factly, though she felt as if her heart, literally, were being ripped in two - one half with each of the men she loved so dearly.

Curtis observed the two specks, falling faster with every second. "Then the two jumpers are Josh and…"

Nervously, Sophie, Charity and Frank all replied at once.

"Peter…."

^^^^^^^^^

"Oh, Man," Scott whistled in dismay as the Cliffhangers viewed the crippled jet.

"Think it'll blow?" Auggie feared.

"Poor Sophie…" Shelby's emotions were sincere. Even she couldn't feign disinterest in the face of such a tragedy.

"I can't watch…" Juliette closed her eyes tightly and tugged at Auggie's sleeve.

Frantically, Daisy and Ezra raced to join their cohorts.

"And where have you two been?" Shelby needled them.

Daisy spoke for them both as a breathless Ezra placed his hands on his knees and doubled over, steadying himself from their record-breaking sprint back to the fairgrounds.

"Who was on that plane?" Daisy demanded of the group, ignoring Shelby's question.

"Nobody's tellin' us nothin'," Auggie shrugged.

"Then let's find out…" Daisy's talent for suggesting the obvious was unsurpassed.

One by one, each Cliffhanger nodded their assent until, in unanimous agreement, they lifted a huffing and puffing Ezra back up to his feet, and set off together to uncover some answers.

^^^^^^^^^

"Everyone, please keep calm!" Curtis shouted through the microphone, sounding a little less than calm himself.

"Deputies are at every aisle and will assist you in an orderly evacuation of the grandstand area…" he continued, though panic was rife throughout the crowd.

Curtis really couldn't blame them. The fire on the plane appeared to be spreading and the jet was still directly overhead. Mothers clutched children close to their breasts and grown men were seen wiping beads of sweat from their brows as everyone hurried toward the exits.

"Sully, this is madness!" Michaela proclaimed, as the couple watched Stephanie Burke rustle her band of senior citizens protectively onto the van that had been waiting for their return at the end of the day - a day which should have been filled with relaxation and good cheer.

The virtual stampede toward the parking lot soon created one giant, immovable traffic jam - horns honking, tempers flaring. Frenzied, many chose to abandon their cars where they sat and evacuate the fairgrounds on foot.

"Reminds me of when folks thought the comet was gonna hit." Sully recalled the same pandemonium, the same blank stares of disbelief and horror on the faces of the townspeople as they raced to escape the inescapable.

"Yes, but this time, they're right," Michaela remarked ruefully.

Then, suddenly, they heard it: a sputter, then a groan, from the plane's one remaining engine caused renewed screams amidst the crowd.

"Look! It's turning away!" a man shouted excitedly as Curtis's deputies continued to clear the area, just to be safe.

"He's veering off," Frank noted solemnly, meeting Charity's worried gaze.

"He'll head for an uninhabited area…." Sophie choked back her tears as she watched her father, in a valiant effort to save the lives of hundreds of spectators, regain control of the aircraft long enough to direct it deep into the valley.

"He's heading for Silver Lake," Curtis reported, out of breath from the latest news off his radio.

"Where?"
"What?"
"Why?"

Beseiged by questions, Curtis blurted his news in one gulp, "Just got through to the airbase in Vancouver. They're in radio contact with him now…"

^^^^^^^^^^^

"This is Bravo 2-4-7, do you copy?" Alexander radioed one last time.

"Roger, we copy you 2-4-7," the tower at the military installation responded. "You should see Hope Falls coming up on your left about now."

Word of Alexander Becker's ongoing mid-air disaster had spread quickly throughout the airbase. Runways had been cleared and rescue personnel were fully in place; but, in emergencies such as these, landings were at the pilot's discretion.

Unsure of how long he'd be able to maintain control of the plane, Alexander concluded that there would be no time to reach Vancouver, or even ditch into the Pacific. Instead, he requested the location of the nearest body of water to his coordinates.

Silver Lake, just south of Hope Falls, fit the bill perfectly.

"Copy that…" Alex replied, coughing as smoke began to permeate the cockpit. "I see the Falls."

Moments later, Alexander reported the sighting he'd been waiting for. A large open expanse of blue water…calm, serene, and, most importantly, no inhabitants for miles. Such a crime to intrude on its tranquility, Alex mused.

As the temperature in the cockpit began to rise, a few melancholy reflections on his own mortality, not unexpectedly, began to infiltrate Alexander's thoughts. Still, the bucolic scene outside his window brought him a surprising sense of peace. Strangely, Alexander could not have imagined a lovelier or more majestic spot for his final resting place.

"But not just yet…" Alex reprimanded himself, dispelling such notions with a forceful shake of his head. He had absolutely no intention of dying today. There was still too much to live for.
^^^^^^^^^^^

With the plane safely out of sight, those spectators who hadn't bolted from the fairgrounds now directed their attention toward the two skydivers, compelled to witness the conclusion of this amazing and frightful day.

Sophie stood rooted to the same spot, afraid to move an inch. She felt Charity's arm come round her shoulder and she heard the Cliffhangers rush up behind her, but she couldn't take her eyes off the sky, off the two jumpers falling to earth with incredible speed.

"Which one's which?" Scott asked for all of them.

"The one on the left is Josh," Sophie answered, almost in a trance, still clutching the statue of Athena in her hand.

"How can you tell?" Ezra asked curiously.

Frank took one look at Sophie's face and shussed the Cliffhangers sternly.

Patiently, Charity searched Sophie's eyes and waited, hoping she would share her thoughts.

"He's backsliding, Charity…" Sophie whispered as she pointed to the jumper on the right.

"Backsliding?" Charity was almost afraid to ask.

Somberly, Frank and the Cliffhangers stood by, listening quietly to the unfolding conversation.

"See how his angle is wrong," Sophie noted, discouraged.

Charity took a careful look and nodded. Even though they were still too far away for Charity to see their faces, the jumper on the right definitely appeared to be struggling.

"It's his body position," Sophie shook her head, dismayed by Peter's poor performance.

"He's leaning too far backwards…overcompensating for the wind shear…" Sophie's heart pounded, absorbing the extent of Peter's distress.

"They're coming down so fast…" Juliette blurted, forgetting Frank's warning. Sheepishly, she covered her mouth with her hand, hoping for leniency.

Anxiously, Sophie agreed with Juliette's innocent observation. "His fall rate's all wrong!"

"Weren't you listening to anything I taught you, Peter?" she shouted uselessly skyward.

Helpless, Frank and the Cliffhangers looked on as Sophie voiced her pain. The agony of witnessing Peter grapple for control was killing them all; witnessing Sophie's despair was no less agonizing.

For, like Charity, and many of the Cliffhangers, Sophie was a woman who preferred to keep a firm rein on her tears. Unwilling to allow herself any other cathartic release, it came as little surprise to Charity - or anyone - that Sophie's first instinct was to channel her fears into anger.

Sympathetically, Charity withstood Sophie's outburst and simply tightened her embrace further.

"I'm sure he's trying…" Charity sighed nervously.

Sophie's voice softened into a subdued plea.

"Try harder, Peter," she begged desperately as, together, they all watched their worst nightmare unfold.

^^^^^^^

"Try harder, Peter…"

Peter could almost hear Sophie's reprimand in his head.

Frantically, he battled to realign his form. "I know, Soph," his mind screamed back in reply, "but this is NOT like jumping off a cliff!"

The first few seconds of his maiden jump had been nothing but a total blur. All Peter could really remember was how strange it felt not to see the ground. Even when he jumped from the top of the cliff, he'd been able to make out the green grass and the dotted landscape below. But here… Here there was nothing but sky - above, below, surrounding him. He felt as if he'd been suspended in mid-air, as if he weren't even falling, as if someone had plopped him on a cloud and said, "Here, Pete…Have a look around."

By the time it really dawned on him what was happening, it was too late. Half of Sophie's lessons one through three were history and Peter could only scramble to catch up. The awful smell of smoke still lingered in his nose and mouth and Peter wondered fleetingly of Alexander's fate, though his own situation was no less grim. Peter knew enough to know that, at least.

Instinctively, he clutched tightly at his harness straps - unaware that the slight fraying Sophie had noticed during her initial inspection was worsening from his desperate grasp. With each twist of Peter's body, the defective stitching began to unravel bit by bit.

Unaware of the additional danger he was in, Peter set about regaining his wits as he recalled everything Sophie had taught him. Leaning forward, Peter extended his arms fully at his sides, proudly achieving the correct diving stance.

"Okay, this is better…" he reassured himself, as he felt his descent speed steady along with his blood pressure.

Peter's newfound confidence was rattled once again, however, when a giant whoosh of air suddenly caught him by surprise. Remembering to keep his concentration, Peter sought out the cause of the abrupt pressure change.

Immediately, he noticed a large white cloud beneath him…Or was it?

"Josh…" Peter realized in a flash, as it dawned on him what was happening. That billowly white cloud below him was Josh's parachute!

Feeling his first real rush of excitement, Peter watched as Josh floated safely into the drop zone. Even with the wind whistling in his ears, Peter could hear the crowd's rousing applause and enormous cheers of relief at Josh's triumphant landing.

Now it was his turn…

^^^^^^^^

"Lake's coming into view…" Alexander reported briefly.

The remaining engine buckled and faltered a bit as Alex used all his strength to hold the plane level for the approaching landing.

The tower heard Alexander's transmission crackle and then break over its airwaves. His messages were becoming faint as the fire began to worm its way malevolently into the inner wirings of the control panel.

"We're sending a rescue team out to Silver Lake now, 2-4-7," the traffic controller informed him nervously, sensing they were running out of time.

"Consider it your free shuttle service back to the base," the officer joked, hoping to cheer Alex's spirits.

"Just don't bill me for the plane," Alex wisecracked, choking on the fumes.

Oh yes, Alex could just picture the look on dear old Charlie's face now when he received the news that one of his precious new Aeromax fighter jets was residing permanently at the bottom of Silver Lake. The thought gave Alex a wicked sense of satisfaction, especially since he had no intention of resting at the bottom of the lake along with it!

"Don't you worry about that, Sir…" the young Lieutenant replied soothingly. "We've got plenty of 'em…"

"Not at the rate I'm going…" Alexander mumbled to himself, recalling the plane he'd lost in the Adriatic and the one he'd crashed into the Persian Gulf…

Certainly Charles must have the entire list itemized on his computer somewhere, Alex supposed grimly. But, just hazarding a guess, he would have to estimate that this was probably the fourth plane that he would not be returning on schedule. Nevertheless, over a forty-year career, that simply was not a bad average, Alex decided unilaterally as he strapped on his parachute and prepared for his final jump.

"Anything else I can do for you, Commander?" the controller asked, awed by the realization that he might be the last person on earth to speak with the famed aviator.

Carefully, Alexander prepared the plane for its nosedive into the lake, setting the trigger for its descent. Frankly, he was amazed the ravaged jet had held together this long. However, with the flip of that single switch, the plane should plummet straight down - straight to the bottom of Silver Lake - that is, if the navigational system didn't short-circuit…and if the fuselage remained intact…

So many possibilities for disaster, still Alex continued his checklist with as much stoicism and professional detachment as he could muster.

All that remained was to shut down the last few intake valves and exhaust as much fuel as possible, minimizing the chance for any further combustion on impact. But, the second Alex reached for the control panel, three large, fiery sparks flew and he shouted out, in anguish and in anger.

Swearing in seven languages, Alex jammed his fingers into his mouth, hoping to ease the excruciating pain. When he could bear to remove them, Alex forced himself to examine the damage. The accident had severely burned his right hand, resulting in several large red welts on his newly blistering fingers. The entire control panel was now searing hot.

No doubt about it…the flames were making their way toward the interior of the cockpit.

"Commander Becker! Are you there, Sir?" the tower officer panicked at Alex's yell.

"Still here…" Alexander reassured him, though his hand was throbbing from the pain.

"Can I help you, Sir?" the Lieutenant asked again, his voice rising steadily.

"No, I'll take it from here…" It was all up to Alex now.

"Good luck, Sir," the officer chimed hopefully.

Wanting to say a proper thank you for the invaluable assistance, Alex paused, realizing he'd never learned the young man's name. Now, as he prepared to take one last leap into the great unknown, it became important to Alex to reach out personally, to maintain the dignity of human respect with his fellow officer.

"What's your name?" Quickly, Alex asked his final question for the day.

"Peter, Sir…" the voice cracked slightly with emotion. "Lieutenant Peter Richardson…"

Peter… Alex shook his head with a wry smile. Now, wasn't that just another of life's delightful little ironies…

"Well then," Alex took a deep breath, "thank you, Peter…" he clarified gratefully. "You've been terrific…This is 2-4-7, over and out…"

Deliberately, Alexander set his sequence in motion. Careful to avoid igniting any further sparks or flames, Alex took a pencil - the only non-metal item he could find - into his good hand, and flipped the trigger switch. For a split second the engine was quiet and Alexander wondered if maybe this was the one time he wouldn't walk away. Then, all at once, the plane began to quake violently, hurtling Alexander to the floor. When Alex lifted his head, he could see the horizon had shifted dramatically - downward!

Stumbling from the smoke and pain, Alex made his way to the sliding door and used a spare flight jacket to shield his skin from the hot metal as he pushed. Limited to just his left hand, it took all his weight for Alex to finally shove the door ajar.

The rush of cool, fresh air nearly knocked him over, but Alex managed to inhale one deep, cleansing breath before the cockpit's dark black smoke billowed past him, contaminating his view - and his air - as it escaped.

But, it didn't matter… The moment that door flew open, Alex was home. That old, familiar surge of adrenaline began coursing through his body, invigorating him just as it had a thousand times before.

Like Peter, Alex's last thoughts were of Sophie.

And, like Peter...

He jumped.

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