Flight 216

Dave Roberts turned into the car park at Air Traffic Control West Drayton, with a screech of tortured tyres and parked his red MGF sports car in the space marked 'VISITOR'. Dave was no visitor having worked in Air Traffic Control for almost fifteen years, the last six at West Drayton, but he always parked in the one spot he knew was covered by all three security cameras. His boss had long given up chiding him over his choice of parking spaces. As usual Dave was fifteen minutes early for his shift, allowing time for a quick coffee and to be briefed on the situation that he would shortly be in charge of.

" Hi Dave ! How are you today ? " greeted Tim Wallace, the shift leader that Dave was about to relieve.
" Oh hello Tim. Fine thanks. So how are things ? Still busy I see, so no change there " Dave replied with a glance at the radar displays.
" I thought you had changed your shift Dave, today being, well er..." Tim let the sentence trail, unfinished, embarrassed a little by his lack of subtlety.
" You mean it being a year to the day Tim ?" said Dave sharply, " A year since I lost it ?" he added a little tersely.
" Well Dave, yes, I mean No. Of course it had crossed my mind. But hey, you didn't lose anything. I mean, it was just your tough luck to be on duty that day. So, you sure you're okay mate ?"
" Yes, and don't go on. No problem. Really" finished Dave.

A year to the day. That day was never far from Dave's mind and had been at the very front of it during the short drive in from Windsor today. Peak weekend for travel. It had been Saturday 24th August, bank holiday weekend last year. A very busy shift, the operators with their eyes locked onto the radar screens, ears alert to the radio traffic, listening, watching. And then it had happened. The morning flight in from Boston. It was just crossing Ireland when the RT speaker boomed, "Mayday! Mayday!" For a tiny split second they all froze then Dave shouted, " Get me a fix on that flight !" He watched the Radar screen. " Okay Flight 216 I have you on screen. What is your problem ? Come in flight 216..." Even as they watched the blip on the screen began to descend.
They never heard another word from the pilot of the big Jumbo jet, fully loaded and bringing some people home, others just to holiday and yet others for business. The trace on the radar just blinked twice and then went out. Dave just stood there. Frozen. Looking dumbly at the screen. " All those people" he whispered, " My dear god, all those people...."

The position of the stricken aircraft was well recorded. Other Airports had picked up its Mayday signal. Dublin thought they had a visual on the aircraft as it came down to the sea. The rescue services and the Royal Navy combed the area for six weeks. Not one trace was found. No life jackets, no baggage, no aircraft parts, no bodies. Nothing. It was as if flight 216 had never existed.
"Hey Dave, you okay ?" asked Georgie, the slim raven haired girl that Dave had been trying so hard to bed since she joined the team that summer.
" Whhhaat? Oh yeah, fine thanks" stammered Dave as he snapped out of his reverie. He had to have his wits about him now. No time to dwell on the past. Get your act together. NOW!
" Georgie ?" he smiled looking at her," How about a drink afterwards. We could nip up to the Silver Wing club ? "
" Yeah okay, fine. Love to."
That was the problem. He could never get her further than the odd drink or sometimes a meal, but there was hope. There was always hope. Just then a telephone rang. Georgie answered it.
" This'll make your day Dave" she said as breezily as she could, " Flight 216 from Boston ?" She saw his face fall, " No, no problem she added hastily. Seems they had a drunk on board who got a bit out of hand so in the end they turned back to Logan. The flight has been scrapped altogether now and they are sending the passengers on later flights."
" What ? A busy time like this and they have pulled the flight?"
" Yep. That's what they said."
" Okay then. Mark it. Good start !"
" Done" concluded Georgie.

The shift carried on. Aircraft in, Aircraft out, Aircraft in holding patterns over London. Heathrow at the max. The clock ticked by, slowly reaching 1045 hours. From out of nowhere a blip appeared on the radar screen in that Dave was looking at, watching a charter flight to Majorca take its corridor up into the blue.
" What the hell is that ?" he exclaimed, " Bearing 187, anybody got something on that ? Anybody ?"
" What have you got Dave?" asked Georgie
" Look, come and look " he answered her and then speaking to the Aircraft, " Hello Aircraft on Bearing 187, please identify yourself. This is West Drayton control."
There was an immediate response. " Hello West Drayton. This is 216 out of Boston. Request approach path."
Dave sat back in his chair, stunned, unable to think. It was Georgie who picked up his headset and resumed the link with the incoming Aircraft. She quickly rescheduled some of the other traffic, really annoying a Lufthansa flight that was put back into a holding pattern after twenty minutes delay already.
"Okay 216, this is West Drayton. Continue in your heading."
"Roger London, will do".
"216 ? " she called hesitantly, " What happened to you. We thought you had turned back. Something about a drunk on board ?"
" A drunk ? No, we have no problems. In fact, I think we may land about ten minutes early."
"Yes, yes you will. You have clearance" said Georgie, and then speaking to Dave " Come on fellah ! Its only the flight we thought was cancelled."

Dave looked at her, his face colourless."Somebody is going to answer for this!" he said angrily," My god. That plane came out of nowhere. I mean one second nothing, next, there it is. Pretty as you like. Get me Logan on the blower Georgie can you love" he asked her, the colour gradually returning to his tanned skin.
Georgie had resumed speaking to the aircraft, " I have you on visual now " she said, " You are clear for landing."
Meanwhile, Dave had been talking rapidly with Air Traffic Control, Logan International, Boston. He turned back to Georgie. His face was a sickly looking colour, ashen, as he spoke.
" Georgie my love. That...that plane. Flight 216" he looked out of the tower window nervously as he continued," the police at Logan have just removed the drunk from 216 and the passengers....the passengers are disembarking. Now. At this very minute. In Boston." He looked out of the window again and then saw the big Jumbo coming into land. He pointed a shaking finger at it, his voice breaking up now, " So what the hell is that ?"
She grabbed a telephone and dialled an extension. " Hello ? Yes, this is Air Traffic. Look, flight 216 just landing. Get everybody off that plane, the crew, everyone and hold them. Do not let them through passport control. Have the baggage unloaded and sent to carousel 1. It will wait. Okay ?"
Somebody at the other end questioned her. " On whose authority ? " she echoed ," Just do as I say. NOW DAMMIT! I will be calling the Airport Police next and everybody else under the sun too, I imagine."
The voice in her ear asked another question. " Where ? WHERE ?" shouted Georgie, angry now. " Clear the Executive arrival Lounges. Hold then there. Yes, yes, down to me. Just do it !" She hung up her telephone. Dave looked at her weakly.
"Its okay" she said to him, calm once more. " Come on, let's get over there and see what the hell is going on. I've already called for a standby shift to take over so I think we will all be stood down until we know what is happening here."

Just then the emergency shift arrived. Dave and Georgie got into the BAA car that had brought the shift over and the car headed off for the Arrival Lounges. Dave's eyes were fixed on the Aircraft at gate 23 from the moment it first came into view until the moment they left the car to enter the terminal complex. They were met by a police constable, carrying a machine gun.
"Sorry Ma'm, Sir. The lounges are closed for the time being I am afraid" he said to them.
"It's okay officer. We are the controllers that alerted you. May we go inside ?" asked Georgie.
"Oh, ah. Well okay then. I think there may be a few questions for you in any event. Nothing to worry about" he smiled as he opened the door, " just the em, er, loose ends so to speak." He ushered them into the lounge.
Georgie turned around straight away and walked back out, half dragging Dave behind her. She marched over to the policeman and said, " Hey ! Are you having a joke ? Do you think this is funny?"
" I beg your pardon ma'm. Funny ? What are you talking about?"
"The Lounge. That Lounge" she pointed, "It's empty. Where are the people, the aircrew...." her voice trailed off.
"Empty ! But I've been stood here since the aircraft landed. I watched everybody go in. Loads of em ! Anyway, how many people does a Jumbo carry ?"

Georgie and Dave starred incredulously at the policeman. Then Dave spoke. " I think you had better come inside with us a moment" he said and they all went back into the deserted lounge. There was a newspaper on the floor. Georgie bent down to pick it up and the policeman stole a glance at her shapely behind as she did so. She stood up, holding a copy of 'USA Today'. "The paper" she mumbled now, "The paper. Look at the date Dave...."
He took the paper from her unresisting hand and looked at the date on the paper, it was 24th August, Saturday 24th August 1996. He stared at it and the old news headlines uncomprehendingly.
"What's going on here Georgie ?" was all he could say.
Georgie had stopped to pick up her radio transceiver when they left the tower so she held it to her mouth now and called baggage handling. Turning back to Dave she said, "Come on then, let's get down to the baggage hall. I have just had a word with them and they have already taken the bags off as I asked. Let's see if the passengers have somehow got there. They are probably a bit miffed after that long flight and may not take kindly to being buggered about by us."
" But the paper. What about the paper ?" said Dave, dazed.
"Coincidence.... ? " offered Georgie tamely, " Somebody had something wrapped in an old paper maybe ? Let's go see."
It only took a few minutes to reach the baggage hall and carousel one. It was going around as it should, but it was empty. They walked to the black rubber doors that led behind the hall area and passed through into the warehouse behind. Baggage carts were going to and fro all the time, loading and unloading the never ending stream of aircraft. Georgie grabbed hold of a foreman.
"Hullo luv " he said, recognising her straight away, " Wott yer doin' over 'ere then. Come to give us a 'and then darlin ?" he said cheekily.
"Stan, Flight 216, from Boston ?"
"Yes luv. Just finished not five minutes ago." He poked his head out of the open front of the warehouse then said," Funny, could've sworn it was on gate 23, but it ain't there now."

Dave and Georgie ran out onto the tarmac. Gate 23 was no more than two hundred yards from the baggage shed. The stand was empty.
"But Stan" said Georgie, back inside now, " There are no bags in the hall. The carousel is empty. Where are they all ?"
"Do wot ? You must be winding me up. I just saw the last lot go on the belt meself."
All three of them went back into the baggage hall. They looked at the empty carousel again as if expecting the bags to appear. The TV screen above the carousel displayed, "216-BOS, Bags in hall, Carousel 1". They looked at each other, none knowing what to say to break the silence until Stan said that he better get back 'cos it was a busy old day. Funny, funny peculiar, but busy.

Dave and Georgie went for that drink at the Silver Wing club. They had a great many drinks that night when the police had finished their questions. In the event Georgie ended up staying the night in Dave's bed, but all they did was to sleep, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. It might have all ended there but for the TV news that unravelled as they sat eating breakfast, both a little embarrassed now, in Dave's cozy kitchen.
"So how do you like your eggs Georgie " asked Dave
"Scrambled if you don't mind "she replied, "Mind if I turn on your telly ?"
"No, be my guest. Well, you are really aren't you ?"
She found the remote control (on top of the bread bin) and chose ITV. The Sony TV burst into life.

......"And news just in. There was panic yesterday at Heathrow when an unexpected aircraft suddenly appeared on the radar screens of Air Traffic Control. Police have just released details following a press blackout that...."

" They're talking about us Dave"
"Yes, I know. Bet the crap hits the fan when we go back in, but I know what I saw..." Dave let his voice trail off, his attention now rivetted to the TV set.

......"Adding to the mystery is fresh news from our reporter live in Dublin, Jon MacIntyre. Are you there Jon ?"

" Yes, I'm here, and good morning. This is Jon MacIntyre live from the beach at Dublin Bay. The tide here goes out a very long way but this morning when the tide went out it left something more than the prawns and crabs that the bay is so famous for. This morning, at low tide a complete and intact Jumbo Aircraft appeared, sunk down to the fuselage in the soft sand but totally undamaged. Investigators have rushed to the spot and it is thought to be the missing Flight 216, the airplane that vanished a year and a day ago today."

The London desk cut in. " That is astounding news Jon. What of the passengers and crew ? "
"Well, London, that is the odd thing. Apparently there is not a single soul on board. In addition to that the hold is empty - no bags. Nothing. All the overhead lockers are empty too, and every seat belt is neatly unbuckled and folded in its seat, all the same way."
The London studio cut the picture at that point and its presenter resumed smoothly, "....and I am afraid that we must leave that story just breaking for now but we will return later in the day with any updates that there may be. In the meantime we will be showing telephone numbers that relatives of any of the missing may call for further information." There was a slight pause,
"Football news now with the pending sale of...."

In Dublin the Police had already taken temporary custody of the videotapes made by Jon MacIntyre, whilst in London furious questions were being raised by the powerful head of the TV News production company.
Georgie clicked the TV set off and sat looking across the table at Dave. They sat like that for a long time. Neither knew what to say but both knew what the other was thinking. At last she reached across for his hands and held them with her own. " I don't know about you Dave" she said softly, "but the last time I went to church I was about six years old. I think I need to go again now. Coming ?" He stood up with her and said, "I think I may have forgotten how to pray you know" he said with a kind of guilty expression on his face, " I mean, there hasn't exactly been a religous side to my life...."
" Oh I don't that really matters now. I think it will be fine. I have funny feeling that a lot of things are going to be fine from now on Dave. With you" she added, smiling at him this time with a warmth and an intimacy that he had never seen before. He locked the front door and they walked up the drive, hand in hand, leaving the MG parked there. It wasn't very far to walk to the Church, not very far at all.

(c) Mike Houghton 2005