Airframe (Page 79)

Walking away.

A voice inside said, Get out of here, but she felt the goggles around her neck, and hesitated. She ought to give the man plenty of time to leave the hangar – she didn’t want to go down and find him on the floor. So she decided to look in another compartment.

She pulled on the goggles, pressed the button on the unit. She saw the next page.

The next compartment was nearby, located just outside the rear door, where she was standing. She leaned out the door and, holding on with her right hand, found she could easily look into the panel box. The cover was already open. There were three vertical rows of electrical buses, which probably controlled the two rear doors; they were overrides. And at the bottom…

Yes.

The Quick Access Recorder.

It was green, with a white stripe around the top. Stenciled lettering: MAINT QAR 041/B MAINT. A metal box about eight inches square, with a plug facing outward. Casey reached in, gripped the box, and pulled gently. With a metallic click it came free of the inner coupling. And she had it in her hand.

All right!

She stepped back inside the doorway, holding die box in both hands now. She was so excited she was trembling. This changed everything!

She was so excited, she did not hear the rush of footsteps behind her until it was too late. Strong hands shoved against her, she grunted, and her hands slipped away, and then her body fell through the door, into space.

Falling.

To the floor thirty feet below.

Too soon – much too soon – she felt a sharp pain on her cheek – and then her body landed, but something was wrong. There were strange pressure points all over her body. She was no longer falling, but rising. Then falling again. It was like a giant hammock.

The webbing.

She’d hit the safety webbing.

She couldn’t see it in the darkness, but the black safety webbing was hung beneath the plane, and she had fallen into it. Casey rolled over onto her back, saw a silhouette at the door. The figure turned and ran through the airplane. She scrambled to her feet, but it was difficult to balance. The webbing was slowly undulating.

She moved forward, toward the dull metal expanse of the wing. She heard footsteps clattering on the metal stairs, somewhere forward. The man was coming.

She had to get out.

She had to get off the webbing before he caught her. She moved closer to the wing, and then she heard a cough. It had come from the far edge of the wing, somewhere off to her left.

Someone else was here.

Down on the floor.

Waiting.

She paused, feeling the gentle swaying of the webbing beneath her. In a moment, she knew, more lights would come on. Then she could see where the man was.

Suddenly, the hot strobe lights above the tail flickered rapidly. They were so bright, they illuminated the entire hangar.

Now she could see who had coughed.

It was Richman.

Chapter 19

He wore a dark blue windbreaker and dark slacks. The lazy, collegiate manner was gone. Richman stood near the wing, tense, alert. He looked left and right carefully, scanning the floor.

Abruptly, the strobe lights went out, plunging the hangar into darkness. Casey moved forward, hearing the webbing creak beneath her feet. Would Richman hear? Could he figure out where she was?

She came to the wing, stretching forward in darkness.

She grabbed it with her hand, moved outward to the edge. Sooner or later, she knew, the webbing would end. Her foot struck a thick cord; she bent down, felt knots.

Casey lay down on the webbing, gripped the edge in both hands, and rolled over the side, falling. For a moment she hung by one arm, the webbing stretching downward. She was surrounded by blackness. She did not know how far it was to the floor. Six feet? Ten feet?

Running footsteps.

She released the webbing, and fell.

She hit the ground standing, dropped to her knees. Sharp pain in her kneecap as she banged into concrete. She heard Richman cough again. He was very close, off to her left. She got up and began to run toward the exit door. The landing lights came on again, harsh and strong. In their glare she saw Richman throw up his hands to cover his eyes. She knew he would be blinded for a few seconds. Not long.

But perhaps enough. Where was the other man? She ran.

She hit the wall of the hangar with a dull metallic thud. Someone behind her said, "Hey!" She moved along the wall feeling for the door. She heard running footsteps.

Where? Where?

Behind her, running footsteps.

Her hand touched wood, vertical runners, more wood, then the metal bar. The door latch. She pushed.

Cool air.

She was outside.

Teddy turned. "Hey, babe," he said, smiling. "How’s it going

She fell to her knees, gasping for breath. Teddy and the electrical guy came running over. "What is it? What’s the matter?"

They were standing over her, touching her, solicitous. She tried to catch her breath. She managed to gasp, "Call Security."

"What?"

"Call Security! Someone’s inside!"

– The electrical guy ran to the phone. Teddy stayed with her. Then she remembered the QAR. She had a moment of sudden panic. Where was it?

She stood. "Oh no," she said. "I dropped it."

"Dropped what, babe?"

"That box . . ." She turned, looking back at the hangar. She’d have to get them to go back inside, to –

"You mean the one in your hand?" Teddy said.

She looked at her left hand.

The QAR was there, clutched so tightly her fingers were white.

GLENDALE

11:30 P.M.

"Come on, now," Teddy said, arm around her, walking her into the bedroom. "Everything’s fine, babe."

‘Teddy," she said, "I don’t know why …"

"We’ll find out tomorrow," he said soothingly.