Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer owns all the characters.
Chapter 1- Pilot
9 AM, flying a Boing 757 direct to Cairo Egypt
In flight school pilots all learn that squawk codes are the most important weapons in our arsenal. When you have a radio failure, you can't tell ATC that you have a radio failure so you squawk 7600, when you have to declare an emergency and get everyone out of your way you squawk 7700 and when you have a hijacked aircraft you squawk 7500. These codes are the number which appears next to your aircraft on the air traffic controller's screen, and when you squawk in 7700, 7600 or 7500 an alarm blares in the ATC center. It is not something you do if you are unsure of your situation.
"Central engine starter switch position 1, start engine 1" Rick read from the checklist as he turned the key in the jet, the right engine purred to life, "Central engine start switch position 2, and starting engine two" the second engine joined the first, vibrating our aircraft, just waiting to fly. "Central engine starter switch in central position and APU switch is on, let's contact ground Cullen." My pilot in command stated as he looked at me for confirmation.
"Yes sir, radios set for midway ground 121.65." I confirmed as I looked at our radio frequencies, Rick seemed to be a hard ass, he had been working at American for the past 30 years and with the cutbacks everyone was a little tense. I had just met him yesterday when we flew in from New York, we were on our way to Egypt today, it would be a long flight so we had two additional pilots seated behind us. It was my first year at American and somehow I had been placed in a 757 which is next to impossible for a first year pilot, though I had graduated from college with my ATP and been hired right out of college by southwest, I flew 737's for that time and I realized southwest wasn't the place for me, it was too relaxed. I liked structure and authority, plus I wanted to be admired and treated with respect when I became PIC in a brand new Dreamliner.
Rick reached over to press comm 2 so we could listen to weather at Midway. I picked up my pen to write down the weather on my kneeboard. The electronic voice came on then that always reminded me of what Stephen Hawking would sound like with his electronic voice. "Midway Automated Weather Information Quebec, 13:51 Zulu, winds 020 at 16 gusts 24. Visibility 10, ceiling 4,100 broken 30,000 broken, temperature 9, dew point -1, altimeter 30.24. Visual approach runway 4 right in use, landing and departing runway 4, Notices To Airmen taxiway Romeo closed, Runway 4 right localizer out of service, aircraft should operate mode C on taxiways and runways, bird activities in the vicinity of the airport, contact 118.7 for clearances, read back all runway hold short and flight level clearances, advise on initial contact, you have information Quebec." The voice finished and I looked back at Rick.
"Runway 4 today, hope we don't hit a flock of geese." The guy behind me joked, and I chuckled, his name was Eric and he was a few years older than me, he was taking over as co-pilot after my designated 8 hours.
"Except we don't have the Hudson to land in today, all we have is lake Michigan." I joked back, Rick shot me a glare, and I guess I wasn't allowed to joke about an emergency landing.
"Get a clearance Cullen." He practically spat at me so I clicked my mic button;
"Midway ground, American 674 Mike Alpha heavy with information Quebec requesting taxi to the active." I said calmly
"American 647 Mike Alpha heavy, ground, taxi to runway 4 right. Left on Bravo, Right on Juliet, Left Foxtrot, hold short of 4 right." ATC advised me.
"Left Bravo, right Juliet, left Foxtrot hold short runway 4 right, American 674 Mike Alpha heavy." I repeated back and looked over at right; he just looked down at the parking break.
"Parking break release, and left on Bravo." He said as we began taxiing, we had already boarded all 188 of the passengers and been towed to center line so we could start up the engines.
"So how long is everyone staying in Cairo?" I asked to fill the silence.
"I'll be there 12 hours before I have to deadhead to Dubai." The captain of the second leg stated, his name was Jose I believe. He seemed like a nice guy.
"Oh yeah? That's awesome dude, you should take a pic of yourself scaling the tallest building in the world. The one from Mission Impossible." Eric joked and I chuckled at that, idiot.
"I think it would be a bit difficult to scale a glass building, but I'll come to your funeral." I joked.
One takeoff, 6 checklists and 15 vectors and 3 passenger updates later we were on course for our flight to Cairo international. I did my instrument scan of all the instruments in front of me, then above me and finally to the left of me. All was quite in the cockpit, I guess Eric fell asleep and Jose wasn't much of a talker. Rick was still manning the flight controls while I observed. It wasn't a very eventful flight.
Then I heard a female voice through the cockpit door "Denzel" she stated as she knocked. That was our previously planned code word when a flight attendant was going to come in and offer us food or coffee. Jose got up and looked through the peep hole before he let her in. She was a heavy set black woman in her thirties. I liked her when we had briefed her on the flight and planned for a code word. She had chosen the word Denzel after Denzel Washington who was starring in the new movie Flight. "Would you fella's like some coffee?" She asked with hint of a southern accent as Jose closed and locked the door behind her.
"Oh you're my savior," Eric voice was thick with sleep, "I'd love some coffee and a few cookies if you have 'em."
"Of course we do." she smiled and looked over to Jose, expecting an order from him.
"I'm good for now, thanks ma'am." He said politely as he sat down.
"And how bout you two pilots?" She directed the question at Rick and I, so I looked over at him, expecting him to order first.
"Nothing thank you, maybe in a bit." He said, a bit coldly.
I looked at her and smiled "I would love a huge black coffee if you wouldn't mind." She nodded.
"I'll be right back with two coffees and a bag of cookies." She said, opening the door. Jose closed it behind her but didn't sit back down.
Then we heard commotion in the cabin, what sounded like yelling and banging. "What is that?" I asked Jose and he turned to the door to look through the peephole.
"It's probably just some rowdy guys who have had one too many drinks," he guessed nonchalantly. Except it sounded like intense screaming, not some argument about beverages, then I heard the words that would haunt me forever "In case you haven't realized, we are hijacking this aircraft!" it came clear as day through the reinforced cabin doors. And that's when I moved my hand to the transponder, without even looking to rick for confirmation, and I dialed over to squawk 7500.
The morning of the hijacking, Chicago IL.
"Emmett Have you seen my coffee?" I yelled, looking all over the room for my mug of coffee and not seeing it anywhere.
"Have you checked your stomach?" He yelled back from the living room where he was doing pushups.
"Ha ha, yes and he wants more company, he's getting lonely." I said back as I walked across the hall to the bathroom we all shared while he was state-side and I saw it on the counter next to my blow dryer. "Never mind, I found it." Of course, it's always in the freaking bathroom; I never remember to check there first.
I walked back to my room to go over everything I needed for my trip to Cairo; I had already gone through it twice but there is always that one important thing that I forget. Last time I went on a photography exhibition I forgot my frog togs, so I had to walk through these bogs in the Sylvania wilderness with just shorts on and the flies ate me alive. We even re-named those flies "bog flies" because they were so fucking big.
This time I would need hot and cold gear as well as bags for my camera to attempt to keep the sand out. I was so excited; I just needed to remember everything.
"You got the pepper spray? And that pocket knife? And that flint I bought you?" Emmett asked from behind me, he was a SEAL so he always wanted me to be prepared. I don't know why I would need a flint though; I mean I was staying in a hotel with a guard. One of Emmett's buddies was going to keep an eye on me.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, MacGyver, but I doubt I'll be able to use the flint. I couldn't even work it in the back yard."
"It's a children's flint, for boy scouts and shit, you can use it. Just remember to create a big enough pile of magnesium under the dried twigs." He reminded me for the umpteenth time. It's not that I couldn't remember how to do it; I just couldn't physically do it.
"Emmett stop bothering her, Jake will be with her the whole time, she's going to be fine." Rosalie cut in, she was standing next to Em in the doorway wile I continued looking through my bag.
"Exactly, and besides, Jake won't let anything happen to me, he's too terrified of you." I joked. Jake was guy that grew up with Emmett, then got into the oil business and got a job as a translator for some Egyptian oil companies. He had a massive build just like Emmett and I always felt safe with him.
"You got your razor Bella?" Rose winked at me, "you never know when you're gonna need it."
Emmett scowled at that, "no Bells, you're not going to need that razor." I laughed, he was so naive, he lost his freaking virginity when he was way younger than me, hell I was still a virgin at 19.
I zipped up my REI hiking backpack then, packed full to the brim with all the survival items I needed in Egypt. "Alright guys, help me out to the car so that I can leave you guys alone for the next 2 weeks. You get to be all alone in this big house." I said seductively and Emmett grabbed Rosalie around the waist to gleefully kiss her. "Ugh not yet, just wait another hour," I complained as I tried to push past them into the hallway with my huge bag in my arms. Emmett caught up with me and grabbed the bag with one arm, a feat I could never in my wildest dreams achieve.
"Alright sis, let's get you off to those pyramids."
"Alright, let me just grab my carry on." My carry on had all of the civilized products I would use, all in 4 ounce containers and crammed into one small zip-lock, as specified by TSA so that wouldn't get it taken away. Along with that was my wallet, passport and boarding pass so I wouldn't have to dig around in my backpack.
"Wait Bella, I made you and Emmett some breakfast." Rosalie said. Thank God, because I was getting hungry, I would no doubt be famished on the 12 hour flight. Normally I made the food in our house, but I was too stressed and busy this morning to do so.
"Oh good, we have to eat fast though," I said. Rose had made an omelet for Emmett and a mini, half egg white omelet for me with cheese and veggies. I munched on a whole grain piece of toast while we chatted and went over my itinerary, which contained mostly outdoor activities so I could get the pictures I wanted. Emmett ate his whole omelet with sausage and bacon while Rose ate yogurt and eyed the bacon.
"Oh Rose one piece won't hurt." I joked as Rosalie's head snapped up from the bacon plate to my face, looking like a puppy that had just peed on the carpet.
"Yes it will, I have a photo shoot in 3 days, I'm going to be a mermaid." I laughed, I could just imagine her sitting on a rock combing her long blonde hair with a seashell and staring at her reflection in the waves.
"What's the book called?" Rose was a model for those trashy novels in the adult section of the book store, and occasionally she modeled for high end car magazines or other things. Rose was a very promiscuous woman; I had a feeling that that pole in her and Emmett's room wasn't a support for the attic like they claimed.
"Into the Waves, corny as usual, but it pays the bills." Then she looked at Emmett, "plus I get to be pressed up against oily men all day." She joked; Emmett looked up from his plate and glared at her.
"I think I'll come with you for this photo shoot," he threatened.
"Good, because I am in so much danger from these gay boys who have never seen the outside of a gym." We always talked about those people who had gym muscles versus the people who had natural muscles, you could tell the difference based on the distribution of muscle. Emmett had natural muscles; in fact he wasn't even allowed to do anything besides bodyweight exercises. Being a SEAL had its benefits.
We all piled into the car for the one and a half hour car trip to Midway Airport and after an excited goodbye I was on my way to the international terminal. Right as I was about to get in line for the check in I saw a girl crying at the front of the line. "No I swear I have it, just give me a second." She pled as she rummaged through her bag, I could tell the bag was expensive, as were the other two she had at her feet. She had on a nice black jeans and knee high boots with a tight purple jacket on. She looked oddly familiar.
"I'm sorry ma'am but we cannot let you into the airport without your boarding pass." The clerk said in a monotone.
"But I have to be on that plane, my fiancé is meeting me there and I can't miss him. I haven't seen him in a month!" the black haired girl explained. Maybe her fiancé was in the military, I knew what it was like for them when they only got so many days of leave, they couldn't very well be flying half the time.
"No pass, no entrance, and there are no more flights until tomorrow morning." The clerk said.
"You can't just bump someone, maybe I could buy a seat in the cockpit?" The clerk laughed at that.
"No ma'am you cannot book a seat in the cockpit, you can however book tomorrow mornings flight and stop holding up the line." He repeated.
"Okay, okay I'll book tomorrows flight." She acquiesced, reluctantly. After much typing and a few more exchanges she was turning to leave, I was next in line by then and we made eye contact which I quickly broke. But as I was staring at the ground I suddenly realized why she looked so familiar, she was the Chicago Mayors daughter, Rahm Brandon, and she was Mary Brandon. I looked at her retreating form, she looked so upset. It never even occurred to me to give her my boarding pass until I was already seated on the plane, in the aisle seat with a man and his husband next to me. They were holding hands and had matching wedding band; it was about an hour into the flight when two men got out of their seats. One from the back of the plane and the other from the middle, they argued with the flight attendant for a moment before they pulled out two guns from their jackets. Before anyone even had a chance to realize what was going on the flight attendant attempted to tackle one of them to the ground, but tackling in an airplane aisle was quite impossible and the second man hit her over the head and she collapsed in the middle of the aisle with a groan.
"Bitch get the fuck off me," the one she had attempted to tack spat as he kicked her stomach.
"If you people move one fucking muscle, I will shoot your brains out so fast you won't even hear the gun!" the second man with black hair was shouting, I was hunched over in my seat with my hands over my head, was this real? Was this plane really getting hijacked?
"In case you haven't realized, we are hijacking this aircraft! Or would it be considered a skyjacking at this point Lou?" One of them asked the other.
"I don't know Jim-Bob, maybe we can ask these passengers." He one named Lou hinted, I peeked up to look down the aisle and saw Lou putting the gun under a flight attendants chin, I could see her chin quivering as she glared at him from her spot on the floor, the beverage cart next to her.
"I don't know." She growled with her teeth clenched, she was trying so hard not to cry.
"Well you should." He said as he hit her over the head, she slammed into the ground yet again and moaned. "Anyway, we have some business to attend to." Lou said, walking down the aisle.
"Yes we do Lou, you see, we are looking for a very special woman, one whose daddy has greatly upset us. We are looking for Mary Brandon." The second one, Jim-Bob said and I gasped. No!
"So will that little lady please stand up?" Lou said. All was silent, nobody dared to move a muscle while my brain worked a thousand miles per hour, and she wasn't on this plane. What would they do if nobody stood up? Did they know what she looked like? Surely all would not end well if they found out she wasn't on this plane, they would get even angrier.
"I SAID will Mary Brandon please stand up!" Jim-Bob screamed from the front of the plane, by this time Lou was walking back up through the aisles and stepping over the flight attendant.
"I think she's a coward Jim, I think we should start shooting people. Or maybe just cutting their throats, I don't know Lou, you choose." The psychopath said. So I did the only thing I would think of, I lifted my head and raised my hand, praying that they didn't know what the real Mary Brandon looked like.
"I'm Mary Brandon."
Well this isn't my first fanfic, but I'll try my best to keep up with this one. I would like to say that I am not a pilot on a 757, I am a student pilot at this time, but I did quite a bit of research and most of Edward's point of view should be accurate; feel free to correct me if it is not.
In case any of you are interested in this aviation lingo, I'll tell you what some of the words mean, though they are not too important to the story. First Edward said he had his ATP which is an Airline Transport Pilots license, it is next to impossible to earn in college, but if you have the money to complete the flight hours then I guess you could. You see in college you must first earn you private pilot certificate, your instrument pilot certificate and your commercial pilot cert before you can get your ATP. That's a lot of flying right there.
Then Deadheading is when a plot flies for free so they can get to a location that they need to be at for their next flight.
I would also like to point out that I don't know if there are 4 seats in a 757 but I'm pretty sure there are, there need to be 4 pilots there because the Federal Aviation Regulations state that a pilot may not fly for more than 8 hours straight, there are many more regulations about the rest to flying ratio but I won't get into that.
Lastly I would like to say that hijacking in this day and age is next to impossible, but getting a gun onto an airplane is not. TSA (the Transportation Security Agency A.K.A. the people that strip search you at the airport) has just released that they have an 80% failure rate of catching illegal substances and weapons. Not most of that 80% is most likely narcotics, but I have heard stories about my fellow students (older ex-army men) accidentally carrying their side-arms onto a commercial flight without being caught.
Too much talking sorry! But I'm Mag's and I hope you guys like it. Criticism is welcome, but please not too mean as I am a crier.