Free The Lion's Game by Nelson DeMille Page A

... McGill is trying to get the flight crew’s attention—”
    “The flight crew has everyone else’s attention. Why can’t we get
their
attention?”
    “I don’t know.” Sorentino asked, “Should we board the aircraft?”
    Stavros considered this question and wondered if he was the person to answer it. Normally, Emergency Service made that determination, but in the absence of a visible problem, the hotshots down there didn’t know if they should board. Stavros knew that boarding an aircraft on the runway with its engines running was potentially dangerous to the aircraft and to the Emergency Service people, especially if no one knew the intentions of the pilot. What if the aircraft suddenly moved? On the other hand, there
could
be a problem on board. Stavros had no intention of answering the question and said to Sorentino, “That’s your call.”
    Sorentino replied, “Okay, thanks for the tip.”
    Stavros didn’t care for this guy’s sarcasm and said, “Look, it’s not my job to— Hold on.” Stavros was aware of Hernandez holding a telephone out to him. “Who is it?”
    “A guy who asked for you by name. He says he’s with the Justice Department. Says there’s a fugitive on board Flight One-Seven-Five who’s in custody, and he wants to know what’s happening.”
    “Shit ...” Stavros took the phone and said, “This is Mr. Stavros.” He listened and his eyes widened. Finally, Stavros said, “I understand. Yes, sir. The aircraft came in without radio contact and is still sitting at the end of Runway Four-Right. It’s surrounded by Port Authority police and Emergency Service personnel. The situation is static.”
    He listened, then replied, “No, there’s no indication of a real problem. There was no hijacking transponder call sent out, but the aircraft did experience a near miss—” He listened again, wondering if he should even mention the reverse thrust thing to someone who might overreact to a relatively minor mechanical problem, or maybe an oversight on the pilot’s part. Stavros wasn’t sure exactly who this guy was, but he sounded like he had power. Stavros waited until the man finished, then said, “Okay, I understand. I’ll get on it—” He looked at the dead phone, then handed it back to Hernandez. The decision had just been made for him and he felt better.
    Stavros put the radiophone to his mouth and transmitted to Sorentino, “Okay, Sorentino, you are to enter the aircraft. There’s a fugitive on board. Business Class in the dome. He’s cuffed and escorted so don’t be pulling guns and scaring the passengers. But take the guy and his two escorts off the aircraft and have one of the patrol cars take them to Gate Twenty-three where they’ll be met. Okay?”
    “Roger. But I have to call my Tour Commander—”
    “I don’t give a shit who you call—just do what I asked. And when you get on board, find out what the problem is, and if there is no problem, tell that pilot to get off the damned runway and proceed to Gate Twenty-three. Lead him in.”
    “Roger.”
    “Call me after you board.”
    “Roger.”
    Stavros turned to Hernandez and said, “To make matters worse, this Justice Department guy tells me not to reassign Gate Twenty-three to any other aircraft until he gives me the go-ahead. I don’t assign gates. The Port Authority assigns gates. Roberto, call the Port Authority and tell them not to reassign Gate Twenty-three. Now we’re short a gate.”
    Hernandez pointed out, “With Four-Right and -Left closed, we don’t need many gates.”
    Stavros uttered an obscenity and stormed off to his office for an aspirin.
    Ted Nash slipped his cell phone in his pocket and said to us, “The aircraft came in without radio contact and is sitting at the end of the runway. There was no distress signal sent out, but the Control Tower doesn’t know what the problem is. The Emergency Service people are there. As you heard, I told the Tower to have them enter the aircraft, bring