CHAPTER 1 – FLIGHT DISTURBANCE ........................................... 4
CHAPTER 2 – WELCOME WAGON ............................................... 12
CHAPTER 3 – LOCKED UP ............................................................ 18
CHAPTER 4 – GOLDEN CAGE ...................................................... 28
CHAPTER 5 – FALLOUT ................................................................ 38
CHAPTER 6 – DIM PROSPECTS ................................................... 47
CHAPTER 7 – KIDNAPPING .......................................................... 52
CHAPTER 8 – NEW LIVES ............................................................. 72
BIBLIOGRAPHY ............................................................................. 79
4
CHAPTER 1 – FLIGHT DISTURBANCE
21:07 (New York Time)
Thursday, April 23, 1959
Pan American Boeing B707 ‘CLIPPER AMERICA’
38,000 feet above the North Atlantic, 560 miles east of New York
‘’So, Captain, happy to be home for Easter?’’
Wil iam ‘Bil ’ Cannon smiled at the question from his copilot, Denis Brayson, while keeping his eyes on the night sky outside of the cockpit’s windshield.
‘’Sure am! This job is okay but I certainly could use more time with my family.
Thankfully, George Kingsley accepted to switch with me for the Easter Monday flight to Paris, so I wil be able to enjoy a full four days with my wife and kids.’’
Denis Brayson, an experienced pilot in his own right, sighed at that answer.
‘’I wish that I could say that I have been as lucky as you, Bil . I wil be flying with Kingsley on that Monday flight. Stil , that wil give me three days with my own family.’
Denis then turned his head to look at their flight engineer, John White, whose station was just behind his seat.
‘’And you, John? Are you flying Monday?’’
‘’Yup! I tried to switch with Jack Kenney but the bugger refused. I even offered to arrange a date between him and Roberta to get him to switch but that didn’t work.’
‘’And what told you that Roberta would go along with whatever plans you would make, John?’ Replied Bil Cannon, amused. Roberta Holmes, one of the four stewardesses on their flight, was considered one of the hottest looking stewardesses at Pan Am, which had already a high standard in that department. She was however also very choosy about her men, knowing full well the power of her attractiveness. White answered with a guilty grin.
‘’Let’s say that Roberta owes me a favor.’
Both pilot and copilot howled in appreciation at that reply.
‘’I wish that Roberta owed ME a favor, you lucky bastard!’ Said Denis Brayson.
Before White could say something, an extremely bright flash of red light from the outside suddenly made the three men close their eyes, blinding them temporarily. For a 5
moment, Bil Cannon, who had turned his head away from the windshield, thought that he saw Denis Brayson’s skeleton, as if he was looking at him through an X-Ray machine. The red glare then faded and Brayson’s appearance returned to normal.
However, an external shock wave then hit their Boeing B707, throwing it sideways like a simple toy. Bil ’s old pilot reflexes then took over, chasing the start of a panic in him despite him being stil half blind. With most of his instruments apparently knocked out, he fought with his controls with all his strength, soon joined in this by Denis. After a few, very long seconds, they managed to stabilize their plane in a level, steady path.
‘’What the hel was that?’’ Nearly screamed Denis, stil pale. Bil shook his head, talking through his clenched teeth.
‘’Don’t know but it certainly wasn’t good for the plane. John, check the engines!’
The flight engineer did not respond at first, taking the time to survey his instruments panel.
‘’Everything seems okay here, Captain. Our four engines are running smoothly at normal temperatures and I don’t see any indications of lubricant loss.’
‘’It’s at least that.’ Said Bil before he realized something with a shock: the night sky they had been traveling in was now replaced by an early morning sky, with the Sun low and at their back. Denis, who had been checking his own instruments for malfunctions, also noticed it.
‘’Wait a sec! This can’t be!’’
A quick look at his wristwatch made him swear.
‘’Damn! My watch has stopped!’’
‘’Mine too!’ Said Bil after looking at his own watch. ‘’Our gyrocompass seems to have been knocked out by that red flash, along with our radios and radar. Try to regain contact with air traffic control while I run a check of all our systems.’
‘’Got it!’
A buzz then made Bil pick up the telephone that linked the cockpit with the stewardesses’ station. The voice of Sandra Crystal, the purser, came on the set.
‘’Captain, this is Sandra. The passengers are nearly panicking about what shook our plane. What was it?’’
‘’I don’t know yet, Sandra. Tell them that we are in full control of the plane and that they have no need to worry. I wil address them in a few minutes.’
‘’Uh, understood, Captain.’’ Said the stewardess in a voice that showed she was not exactly convinced. She however cut her call without asking more questions, letting 6
Bil free to evaluate the state of his plane. Apart of the fact that his radar set seemed to be fried and that his compass was gyrating crazily, everything else seemed to be working.
‘’Denis, do you have the air traffic control on the radio?’
‘’No, I get no radio traffic at all on their frequency, nor on the frequency of the controller in Paris.’’
Cold sweat then broke on Bil ’s forehead as he remembered his vision of his copilot’s skeleton during the flash of red light. He now had nightmarish thoughts about all this meaning that they were now in the middle of a nuclear war. Maybe a stray nuclear missile had exploded prematurely near their aircraft. Urgent knocks on the door of the cockpit made his head snap around, just before Sandra Crystal stormed inside, agitated.
‘’Captain, it’s daylight outside! Also, everybody’s watches have stopped.’’
Bil made a grim smile to the pretty brunette.
‘’I certainly noticed, Sandra. Unfortunately, I have no explanation yet to offer for that. It must have been an effect of that red flash.’
‘’But…nothing could possibly cause that, no?’’
The pilot had to give her good marks for common sense.
‘’I know, Sandra. However, I am as clueless as you right now. The good thing is that the plane seems to have suffered no real damage. You may tell that to the passengers: it may calm them down.’’
‘’Yes, Captain.’’
A minute went by after the departure of Sandra. By that time, Denis had not yet been able to raise anyone on the working frequencies of the day. In frustration, he switched their secondary radio to the international distress frequency, the only frequency that never changed.
‘’To any station that can hear me, this is flight Pan Am 164, out of Paris and heading towards New York. Our navigation equipment is malfunctioning and we can’t raise any air control center on other frequencies. If someone can hear us, please respond!’’
To his relief, a voice answered him after his second call.
‘’Pan Am 164, this is US Coast Guard cutter SENECA. Can you hear us, over?’’
‘’Affirmative, SENECA! We hear you loud and clear, over.’
‘’Pan Am 164, what was your last known position, heading and speed, over?’’
7
‘’SENECA, from Pan Am 164, our last known position dates from four minutes ago and was 565 miles east of New York Idlewild International Airport. Our heading was 242 degrees and our speed was 540 miles per hour at an altitude of 38,000 feet, over.’
This time there was a distinct delay before Denis got a response from the cutter, with the tone of voice of the operator having also changed.
‘’Pan Am 164, say again your last known position?’’
‘’I say again, 565 miles east of New York Idlewild International Airport, over.’
‘’SENECA to whoever is there, you better quit your attempt at joking.’ Said a new voice on the radio. ‘’There is no Idlewild Airport in New York and Pan Am went bankrupt decades ago. You better identify yourself correctly before I alert the Air force.’
Denis exchanged a bemused look with Bill, who had listened on the conversation with his own headset.
‘’What the fuck are they talking about?’’
‘’Don’t know but I wil certainly rattle their cage: I am talking over this conversation. Coast Guard cutter SENECA, this is the captain of flight Pan Am 164. We are presently in distress, with all navigation instruments out and 108 passengers aboard.
If you can confirm our present position, say it or pass us on to someone who wil . I am certainly in no mood to joke, over.’
There was another long delay before the latest voice answered, with no trace of apology in his tone.
‘’Unknown contact, you may want to try the frequency of the New York air traffic control center, on 388.5 megahertz. Good luck with them, out!’
The last sentence had been said with sarcasm, something that both confused and enraged Bil Cannon.
‘’The prick! I’m going to report him as soon as we land. Let’s try that new frequency: hopefully, he didn’t give us a bogus one.’’
Changing himself the frequency on their main radio, Bill double-checked his list of official frequencies before talking, to make sure that this new frequency was not on it. It wasn’t.
‘’New York air traffic control, this is flight Pan Am 164, over.’
The answer came a few seconds later, as he was about to call again.
‘ This is New York air traffic control. Say again your call sign?’
‘’Are they all dumb today, damn it!’ Swore Denis to himself before Bil spoke again on the radio.
8
‘’New York control, I say again: this flight Pan Am 164, coming from Paris and heading towards Idlewild International. Our navigation instruments are malfunctioning and we are unsure of both our current position and of our heading. Our last known position was five minutes ago, at 565 miles east of Idlewild International, and our heading was 242 degrees at 540 miles per hour. We are stil heading roughly east, judging from the Sun, and should be about 500 miles from the coast, over.’
‘’Pan Am 164, please turn left ninety degrees so that we can identify you on our radar screens.’
‘’Finally, something that makes sense!’ Said Bill to himself. ‘’Turning left now, New York control.’
‘’Pan Am 164, this is New York control. We now have you marked on our radar screens. You are 510 miles due east of New York. Be advised that your IFF
transponders are apparently not working. What is your aircraft type and how many people do you have on board, over?’’
‘’From Pan Am 164, we have 108 passengers and seven crewmembers on board of our Boeing B707-121, over.’
This time, the delay before he got a response was significant, prompting Bil to talk again.
‘’New York control, did you copy my last, over?’’
‘’Affirmative, Pan Am 164.’’ Finally said the man in New York. ‘’Continue to fly east for the moment. The Air Force wil send planes to escort and guide you, over.’
‘’Thank you, New York control. In truth, we don’t have large reserves of fuel left.
I calculate that, at the present rate, I have enough left to fly for about seventy minutes more.’
‘’I copy that, Pan Am 164. Keep a lookout for your escort planes, out.’
‘’Captain, I have a bad feeling about this.’ Said John White as soon as Bil cut the link. ‘’Why would they not recognize our call sign? And what was this thing about Pan Am having gone bankrupt?’’
‘’John, I have absolutely no clue.’’ Said sheepishly Bill while returning on an eastern heading.
Inside the passenger cabin, uneasy whispers went around the passengers as their plane made two turns in quick succession. The voice of the pilot then came on the speakers.
9
‘’Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We stil don’t know what caused that late disturbance in our flight but I can assure you that our plane is in good condition and that we will land safely in New York in less than an hour. I hope that you wil continue to enjoy your flight in the meantime.’
Colonel Steve Ritchie, Chief of Air Transport Services at the Supreme Al ied Powers in Europe Headquarters, or SHAPE HQ in short, who was on his way to a strategic conference at the Pentagon, raised an eyebrow and looked at his seat neighbor, Brigadier General Al an Foster, who was going to the same conference as him.
‘’I think that we got served some good baloney, General.’ He said in a low voice, making Foster frown.
‘’What do you mean, Steve?’’
‘’Well, I am myself an experienced transport pilot, General, and I can tell when a pilot is trying to paint things over a bad situation. The plane seems to be flying correctly for the moment, but god knows what that red explosion could have damaged. It is bad enough that the night turned literally into day in seconds. That by itself is enough to freak out.’
‘’Yeah, I agree. I just hope that this explosion was not what I am afraid it was.’’
Ritchie understood at once what Foster was thinking and nodded.
‘’Me too. I think that I will go pay a quick visit to the flight crew.’
‘’Good idea! Keep me posted!’
Getting up from his seat, Ritchie then walked calmly towards the cockpit, only a few paces away from his first class seat. One of the stewardesses, a tall and athletic blonde, however interposed herself politely just before the door to the cockpit.
‘’I am sorry, sir, but the cockpit is a restricted area for the passengers.’
‘’I understand that, miss, but can you tell the Captain that Colonel Ritchie, of the Air Force, would like to talk to him?’’
‘’I can certainly do that, Colonel.’ Said the stewardess, eyeing briefly the medal ribbons on his dress uniform before grabbing a telephone handset inside the kitchenette.
‘’Captain, this is Jennifer speaking. One of our passengers, Colonel Ritchie of the Air Force, wishes to speak with you… yes, right away, Captain.’’
The stewardess then smiled to Ritchie.
‘’You may enter the cockpit now, Colonel.’
‘’Thank you, miss.’
10
Ritchie then stepped to the door and entered the cramped cockpit space. The pilot was already turned in his seat to greet him, extending a hand that Ritchie shook.
‘’Wil iam Cannon, at your service, Colonel. I flew B-17 bombers over Europe during the war there.’’
‘’You did?’ Said Ritchie, smiling at once. ‘’Then we should exchange our war stories later. Talking of stories, I don’t want to be rude, but you kind of failed to convince me that all was well. Have you suffered some damage?’
‘’Unfortunately, yes. Apart of night turning suddenly into day, our gyrocompass, chronometer and magnetic compass have gone wild. We had trouble contacting air traffic control at first. When we did, they gave us a hard time, as if they doubted our identity. I was told last that the Air Force was sending planes to guide and escort us in.
Unfortunately, that sounded as if they were being sent to shoot us down.’’
‘’Oh?’ Said Ritchie, surprised. ‘’But, you certainly filed a flight plan before leaving Paris, did you?’’
‘’Of course I did! Furthermore, this flight is a regular one, leaving every Thursday evening from Paris. Yet, those idiots in New York didn’t seem to believe us when I told them who we were.’
‘’Strange, indeed! So, escort planes are on the way: that will at least help us get to New York. Do you mind if I stay here until those fighter jets show up? Maybe I will be able to soothe them down, so that they don’t get trigger happy.’
‘’A good idea, Colonel. Take the jump seat behind my seat and grab that spare headset hooked above it.’
‘’Thank you, Captain.’’
Twenty minutes later, a radio call came in as two small dots appeared in the sky to their left, growing fast.
‘’Pan Am 164, this is Air Force call sign Blue Six. We have you on visual and are approaching from your port side, over.’
‘’Blue Six, we are happy to see you.’ Said Bil Cannon truthfully as Ritchie looked through a small window to have a look at the approaching fighters. ‘’Our navigation instruments are stil out and we certainly could use your help to guide us in, over.’
11
‘’Wilco, Pan Am 164. I wil take the lead to guide you towards JFK Airport, while my wingman will stay behind you. Be advised not to deviate from the heading I will be on, or you wil be fired on.’
‘’You will guide us towards which airport, Blue Six?’’
‘’Pan Am 164, I said JFK Airport, as in John F. Kennedy International Airport.
Don’t tell me that you don’t know it!’
‘’Well, as a matter of fact, we don’t, Blue Six.’
‘’Then, to which airport were you headed, Pan Am 164?’
‘’To Idlewild International Airport, Blue Six. Hell, don’t tell me that YOU don’t know it!’
‘’Alright, buster, play sil y with me if you want, but follow me once I take the lead, or you will be shot down.’’
‘’Let me talk to this young jerk for a moment!’ Then growled Ritchie before keying his microphone. ‘’Blue Six, this is Air Force Colonel Steve Ritchie, traveling as a passenger on flight Pan Am 164. You are dealing with a commercial aircraft fil ed with over a hundred passengers and crew, so go easy on the trigger finger, or I wil make sure that you end up flying broomsticks. I…’’
The sudden appearance of a fantastic jet aircraft just passing the B707 by the left side then cut him off in mid-sentence. Ritchie knew wel al the planes in service with the Air Force but, while the newcomer whore the distinct markings of the US Air Force, nothing he knew even approached what he was looking at now. For one thing, while the so-called fighter was clearly a single-seat plane, it was about as big as a bomber and had two huge jet engines in the back. The voice of the lead fighter pilot then came back, harsh.
‘’Colonel, or whoever you are, I don’t take orders from you and your plane better do as I say, or you WILL be shot down. From now on, your plane wil stay off the radio unless called by us. Is that understood, Pan Am 164?’
‘’We understand and wil comply, Blue Six.’’ Answered Bil Cannon, discouraged, before looking at Ritchie. ‘’I guess that we don’t have much of a choice now, Colonel.’
‘’Effectively, Captain.’’ Said Ritchie, frustrated and angry.
12
CHAPTER 2 – WELCOME WAGON
09:44 (New York Time)
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Gate A-6, Terminal number 4, John F. Kennedy International Airport New York, United States
Lieutenant Daniel Munsen, of the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE in short, already had over eight customs officers and ten Port Authority police officers waiting near Gate A-6 when he saw the chief of the Port Authority detachment at JFK Airport, Lieutenant Tom Rawlings, arrive at a run with six more police officers, a young woman with a gun and a badge visible at her belt and at least twenty heavily armed men in black assault vests, Kevlar helmets and black SWAT-like uniforms.
Munsen eyed with curiosity Rawlings as the policeman stopped to a halt near him, slightly out of breath. The woman accompanying him seemed however just fine, showing that she was very fit.
‘’Why bring so much forces to board this unidentified flight? I understand that it gave only a long outdated call sign, but a group of terrorists would have tried to sneak past our air defenses instead of radioing for help, no?’’
‘’Maybe,’ said the woman besides Rawlings, ‘’but we cannot take any chances with this plane. Remember our present situation with Pakistan, Lieutenant.’
‘’And you are?’’
The woman unhooked her badge from her belt and raised it so that he could detail it.
‘’Department of Homeland Security Senior Agent Jane Hatfield. Once the occupants of that incoming plane are frisked and taken out of their plane, they wil be bused under escort to the Brooklyn Metropolitan Detention Center, for triage and questioning. They will not be allowed contact of any sort with other people until further notice and no public announcement wil be made about that plane or its occupants. That comes direct from the Director of DHS in Washington.’
‘’Uh, what about the few thousand persons already present in this terminal, Agent Hatfield. Or are you planning to shut down and empty gates used right now by twelve 13
passenger aircraft from various foreign lines? Do you have any idea of what kind of chaos this would bring to the operations of this airport?’’
The DHS female agent, an athletic woman in her mid thirties, hesitated and eyed sharply Munsen, a visibly experienced customs officer with gray hair.
‘’How many people can we expect aboard that plane, at a maximum?’’
‘’Well, the two F-22 escort fighters positively identified it as an early type Boeing B707, which had a maximum seating capacity of 110 passengers, plus three flight crews and up to six flight attendants. The suspect plane actually bore the markings of a Pan Am aircraft and the tail registry number was that of the ‘CLIPPER AMERICA’, the first Pan Am jet aircraft to start the route Paris-New York in 1958. The crew of that plane even named their destination as ‘Idlewild Airport’, which was the name of this airport before it was renamed JFK International Airport in 1963.’
Jane Hatfield rolled her eyes at those words.
‘’Great! Now, terrorists are spoofing a defunct television show.’
‘’Well, if this is indeed a plane full of terrorists, maybe we should not let it approach this terminal.’ Suggested Lieutenant Rawlings. ‘’If it has any sizeable bomb in its baggage compartment, it could cause a bloodbath in this terminal.’
‘’Then we will have it parked in the open, away from this terminal, and board it via mobile stairs.’ Said resolutely Hatfield, getting a dirty look from Rawlings.
‘’Agent Hatfield, I understand that DHS is responsible for the security of American territory, but I am in charge of the police force at this airport, which is directly under the responsibility of the Port Authorities.’’
It was Munsen’s turn to roll his eyes as Hatfield and Rawlings bickered about who would lead the operation to board the suspect plane: they certainly did not need another inter-departmental fight right now. Four more men, dressed in civilian clothes, then arrived at a run, attracting a sarcastic question from the customs officer.
‘’And you guys are from the FBI, right?’’
‘’How did you know?’ Replied one of the men, flabbergasted. Jane Hatfield gave the newcomer a dirty look.
‘’Who called the FBI on this? This is clearly a DHS case.’
‘’Not if there are Americans on board