Flight 19, Part II, page 1
Flight 19, Part II
Grant Finnegan
Copyright © 2019 by Grant Finnegan
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Also by Grant Finnegan
The Seventh List
Flight 19, Part 1
For Sharon,
my Yin
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Epilogue
Epilogue—Part Two
Epilogue—Part Three
Review this book
Keep in touch
Disclaimer
Acknowledgments
About the author
Time.
Clocks move forward;
they never go backward.
Neither should we.
Prologue
Again and again, my mind drifts back to the day our plane did the impossible for the second time.
I don’t care anymore what hour of the day it was, what day of the month, or what month of what year.
Especially the year.
I don’t even care how it happened.
Time travel, excuse the French, is bloody overrated.
You can take the DeLorean, Doc Brown, and shove it right up your ass. No offense to the Doc; I liked that movie.
Think I could pick the winning numbers in a lottery that had already been drawn in the future? It’s a bit hard when you didn’t write them down in the first place. Same goes for anything else you can make some financial windfall from. We were so busy trying to get our heads around losing five years of our lives that we didn’t bother jotting down who won the Super Bowl, or anything else for that matter.
We traveled five years forward in time, then two and a half years back. Do the math—we still lost two and a half years of our lives. Worse, the only hindsights I could offer myself were the ones shrouded in misery and heartache.
But it all pales in comparison with finding the love of my life, who I’d been waiting for since my eighteenth birthday, only to have him taken from me as if the universe or God himself had just been messing with me the whole time.
I can’t think of any medicine that would soothe this feeling of loss. It’s as if I woke up the other morning without a soul.
And no, Tinder can get stuffed. The guy is—or should I say was?—one of a kind.
You can only swipe up for guys like him.
The others tell me that in time, things will get easier.
They all have someone now. Most of them, anyway.
I just have to live with his vision in my mind. For how long is anyone’s guess. At least a while.
I remember the exact look on his face when we all found out we’d gone back the two and a half years. It will haunt me for some time.
And now he’s gone again.
God I miss him.
Chapter One
Ross and Tony shared the same look they had the last time this happened.
Confusion. Horror. Surprise. What the hell?
This time it was all amplified.
“ARTCC are asking us to call in, Roscoe.” Tony, as always in times of crisis, appeared so relaxed he could close his eyes and have a catnap. Ross himself was by no means a panic merchant; the guy had been in the cockpit long enough to know the last thing you ever do is lose your shit in times of crisis. There had been many, but nothing like what happened six months ago, and now this. This was top-shelf shit.
Ross studied the date stamp on the transponder again, and this time tapped on it in the futile hope it would change, like people did when their petrol gauge was on empty and the car was starting to conk out.
It didn’t change.
July 20th, 2021.
Ross could feel the heat rising from underneath his shirt. He looked over to Tony, and then over to Michael E. Darcy. The three men sat there for a few seconds, which felt like much longer.
“Jesus Christ,” Darcy said to the two pilots in a near whisper.
The ARTCC (the Oakland Air Route Traffic Control Center) was already going through the motions, as it had done six months earlier.
Ross knew the seconds were ticking.
He took a deep breath and glanced over to Tony. “Okay, we need to take this one step at a time,” he said.
Then he glanced back over to Darcy. “Sit back and take a deep breath, my friend.” Ross showed that signature grin that always made people around him feel he could take care of anything. “Let’s deal with the ARTCC and then figure out what to do next.”
What happened in the next couple of minutes made it feel as if they had gone back not two and a half years, but six months. Every step, every process, every panicked tone in the voice of the ATC (air traffic controller) and his superior was identical to what had happened the first time they had returned from their five-year hiatus.
But this time, Ross spoke in careful, measured tones. He didn’t want to sound too at ease, but nor did he want to sound like he was currently manning the controls of the world’s first legitimately verified 1.2 million pound time machine.
Fighter jets had been dispatched just as they had been when the A380 had reappeared out of nowhere the first time. But these were some time away, not minutes like before. This would come in handy, for the three men needed a couple of minutes to formulate what they would tell the people on-board with them about what had just happened.
“This was not what I’d hoped for,” Michael said, closing the cockpit door. He didn’t lock it behind him; that would send the wrong message if Melanie or Tammy decided to check in with the men and see how things were going. But he knew the clock was ticking, and they had agreed a second ago they wanted to get to the passengers before the expected fighter jets appeared in the cabin windows.
“You’re not the Lone Ranger there,” Tony said, then took a deep breath and turned to Ross for his words of wisdom.
He didn’t have to wait long.
“We need to get the passengers together and give it to them straight,” Ross said as he glanced over his main screens and checked that all the plane’s vitals were as they should be.
He looked at the two other men before peering over to the cockpit door to ensure it was still closed.
“What we’ll encounter out there is a repeat of what happened six months ago. Most of them will be completely gutted about this, and then some.”
Tony thought of his wife, Tina. He’d have to go through the whole rigmarole with her, finding out (again) she was now a lesbian and in a relationship with his ex-sister-in-law. One of his heartstrings pinged for a second before he remembered that he now had Tammy.
Farck. One thought leads to another.
Tammy.
Her sister had tried to kill her only a couple of hours ago, according to their own sense of time, and was “now” dead.
But in this year, 2021, Annie was alive again.
For the first time in his life, the ice-cold blood running through Tony’s veins warmed up somewhat.
He muttered to himself as reality washed over him like a 44-gallon drum full of motor oil.
Ross looked over to him. “What did you say, Tone?”
Tony wiped the motor oil from around his mouth and said, “We need to get out there and prepare all of them for this.”
Dave Collins received the call from his brother as he had done in 2024. Hold on, as he hadn’t done, because it was 2021. But this time, he wasn’t in the tower. He was home on one of his rare days off.
His brother was on shift at the ARTCC in Fremont, California, and had called Dave on his cell phone.
Dave disliked vacuuming as much as ironing. But it had to be done, and he was halfway through it when Jeff called.
The vacuuming would not get finished today; Dave would have other issues to contend with.
“What the hell do you mean?” said Dave.
Jeff repeated the sentence a third time.
“The plane claims to be Pacific International Airlines Flight 19.” This time, he added, “Brother, I am not shitting you.”
“Transponder?” Dave said as he dropped the vacuum on the floor.
Jeff wasted no time in answering the question
Dave’s mind was spinning. He reached for the edge of the sofa, and when he found it, pulled himself over and sat down hastily.
“Where’s it heading?” he asked.
Unlike when Dave would ask in 2024, his brother had no issue about discussing this over an open line.
“Vandenberg,” he said.
Dave leaped from the arm of the couch like a soldier coming to attention.
His only daughter was on that flight.
He looked over to the picture of her and his heart skipped a couple of beats. She looked back at him through the glass with that killer smile of hers.
“I’m going there now,” Dave said, his mind racing.
His brother was about to tell him not to bother, since the security would be off the charts by the time he got there, but Dave had already rung off and was racing for the front door.
Chapter Two
Melanie and Tammy looked at each other as Ross let the words flow carefully from his lips. There wasn’t much for him to say, really. The facts were pretty simple.
The five of them were huddled into the cockpit, Ross and Tony in their seats but with their legs sideways, with Michael, Melanie, and Tammy all standing behind them.
Out of instinct, hundreds of hours of training, and thousands of hours of flying, Ross and Tony kept checking screens and information in front of them every few seconds.
The gravity of the situation had not even begun to sink in for the two couples.
What lay ahead of them was a headache of biblical proportions.
As the mutters and profanities continued, it was Melanie who called the others to attention.
“Guys.” She spoke quietly but with a sternness normally reserved for the board- or court-room. “God knows how long we have before the jets are upon us.”
The three men nodded.
Tammy just stood there with a frightened, panicked look on her face.
Annie.
Alive.
She has my children.
She is married to my husband.
She tried to kill me.
This is not happening.
What the fuck was I thinking when I got on this plane?
This was a big mistake.
Darcy’s words cut through the thick fog of her thoughts. “I’m responsible for this. I’ll tell them what’s happened.”
ARTCC had instructed Flight 19 to turn around and head back to California, but Ross, Tony, and Michael had agreed not to do so until the passengers had been told what happened.
Melanie and Tammy went and asked all the passengers to come together in the main economy-class cabin.
Déjà vu was about to come at them in spades.
When everyone was seated as one large group, Darcy stood at the front and looked across the cabin and the sea of faces. They all waited for him to speak.
Time’s up, he thought. Those pesky fighter jets would be on them at any moment, and he had to tell the passengers before they got to his plane.
“There’s something I need to tell you all,” Darcy said, raising his voice above the sound of the cabin air.
The mutters and coughs around the cabin ceased.
“Damn it. The fighter jets are here.”
The sound of them arriving to encircle the A380 was loud and abrupt, and it almost sent Darcy into a full-blown panic.
Damn it, I should have done this minutes ago, he told himself in frustration.
Someone from the back shouted, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” His words got louder as each new one came out.
Darcy thought he knew what the guy was implying, but wasn’t exactly on the money.
Passenger David Windebank rose from the seat next to his wife Christine, trying to catch a glimpse of the fighter jets in the opposite cabin windows, but the expression on his face was not one of shock or terror, but delight.
He thought they’d gone back the whole five years.
Now seeing the smile on David’s face, Darcy realized the guy’s wife had cottoned on to what her husband was saying and was smiling too. He felt as if someone had punched him in the throat.
“No, no.” Darcy was nearly shouting, the strain in his voice making it clear this was not what he was about to say.
David, seeing the distraught expression on Darcy’s face, slowly sank back to his chair and looked over to his wife.
Darcy took a deep breath and looked across the rest of the passengers, most of them now looking gravely concerned. Tony, standing right next to Darcy, said something to him.
The ex-billionaire knew the only thing to do was just get the hell on with it.
“It’s happened, people; it’s happened,” he shouted, but there was no joy or celebration in his demeanor.
Before anyone had a chance to say anything, he pushed on: “We’ve gone back…” He closed his eyes and rubbed the pain in the middle of his forehead. “To … 20 … 21.”
Tony went back to the flight deck and told Ross to turn the plane around. Ross pretty much knew they’d have to do this now that the four US Air Force fighter jets were in a tight formation around the A380. Ross instigated a gracious 180-degree turn, ensuring none of the now gobsmacked passengers fell on top of each other. That would be the straw that broke the camel’s back for many of them.
“Tell me,” Ross said, looking over to Tony as he strapped himself back in his seat.
Tony looked out through the cockpit windows at the bright blue sky and wondered what he’d gotten himself into when he became a commercial airline pilot. He wasn’t sure if this was part of the job description, but it certainly wasn’t in the training simulator flights he and Ross regularly undertook.
“Fucking time machines are not meant to be this big,” he said with his best effort at a dash of humor. “And you’re supposed to be able to control them too, right?”
“I wish we could, buddy, ” Ross said.
Tony shook his head. “Many of the passengers are understandably dumbfounded.”
This was probably the last thing on earth most of them wanted. They’d have thought this was going to be some sort of joyride. They’d have thought it would give them the chance to move on.
“Well, they’ve left the past behind them,” Tony said. “Or was it the bloody future? I don’t know, but I do know that what we encounter when we arrive at Vandenberg is going to be vastly different…” He sighed in clear frustration. “…to what we did six months ago.”
Ross shook his head. “How the hell are we going to explain to the authorities what happened?” He looked at the open doorway before turning back to Tony. “They’ll think we’re all certifiably crazy. They’ll lock us up and ask us if we like the shade of the fabric on the padded walls. And how do we explain the fact that we have 120 passengers less than the original fli…”
“I’ve got it all covered,” Darcy announced, appearing at the top of the access steps into the cockpit after overhearing Tony and Ross.
“Well, I guess you can explain it to us both, then,” Tony said. He looked at Ross, who was also looking forward to hearing how Darcy was going to pull it off.
No words came from Darcy. Tony and Ross looked the guy up and down. “Well, go on—tell us,” Ross said.
Darcy showed his teeth, but it was by no means convincing. He looked like a used-car salesman trying to palm off a Model T Ford for the price of a 2020 Mustang GT Coupe V8.
