Free Final Approach by John J. Nance Page A

ways.
    The thought jolted him back to reality and what lay ahead. The bridge was behind them now. On any normal takeoff it disappeared hundreds of feet below within seconds, as it had with this takeoff, and as soon as they achieved a safe altitude, Joe resolved to turn his fatigued mind to organizing their actions on arrival in Kansas City. The problems they’d encountered getting out of D.C.—an aggravation he didn’t need—were merely a distraction from the main event. The world in Kansas City was effectively in flames, and that was a reality with which they would have to deal instantly on arrival.
    One member of the Go Team had been glued to a pocket radio. There was, he reported, an allegation of sabotage floating around, and apparently the job of removing the people trapped in the 737 was developing into a major problem. Memories of the 1987 Continental crash in Denver and half-frozen survivors hanging upside down for hours awaiting rescue crossed Joe’s mind. Those images and others began to blend into a fuzz as the sound of the slipstream of high-speed air on the other side of the 727’s metal skin set up a lulling white noise, a mental anesthetic, blotting out consciousness.
    Joe opened his eyes suddenly and realized with disgust that he had fallen asleep, his watch confirming the passage of forty-five minutes, a vague memory of a voice calling his name.
    â€œJoe, are you awake?”
    The confusing sight of a beautiful female face framed by a soft cascade of auburn hair loomed before him, an alluring image of softness with a concerned look, and for a few seconds he failed to recognize Dr. Susan Kelly, the newest member of the NTSB, who had come aboard at the last minute.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI’m Susan Kelly, remember?”
    â€œOh, lord. Sorry, Doctor.” Joe lurched forward in the aisle seat, formulating apologies for losing control and falling asleep.
    Joe had seen her take a seat in first class and figured she had booked the flight by herself, paying for the extra luxury. Not even Board members could get reimbursement for the extra first-class fare.
    â€œWhen you get a few minutes, I want to compare notes. I’ll come back in a little while.” She smiled thinly and stood up, her neatly pressed skirt brushing his arm as she turned and headed back to the forward cabin, followed by Joe’s eyes, absently appreciating how attractive and well proportioned she was.
    And untouchable. She was a Board member; Joe was staff.
    He got to his feet and headed back to the rear lavatories, determined to resurrect himself. It was embarrassing to be caught napping, literally and figuratively, by one of the members, though he was glad she wanted to talk. He had been curious about her ever since the appointment was announced, though technically oriented nuts-and-bolts investigators like Joe were supposed to be unimpressed with anyone from squishy scientific areas such as psychology.
    In many respects, Dr. Kelly’s appointment was a lucky break for the staffers—a highly qualified aviation psychologist with a reservoir of respect among the airlines themselves and a foundation of political support which made her dangerous to cross, even for Chairman Farris. To Joe, she had seemed excessively standoffish in their few meetings around the Board offices, and her first-class ticket and patrician demeanor did nothing to dilute the image. In any event, he thought, it was a relief to have anyone along other than Farris.
    Joe dried off his face, combed his hair again, and straightened his tie before leaving the lavatory, making his way forward through the cabin as the flight attendants struggled to serve a plastic breakfast.
    He pulled out a notebook and tried to organize his thoughts while wolfing down the food, finishing just as Dr. Kelly returned to the cabin, taking an empty aisle seat across from him.
    â€œDo you have any more details?”
    A flight attendant passed between