Mayday at Two Thousand Five Hundred by Frank Peretti Page A

ditch. Please acknowledge.”
    Reluctantly, Brock pressed his talk button. “We acknowledge. If this attempt fails, we ditch the aircraft.”
    Dr. Cooper looked at Brock, and then out the window at Eight Yankee Tango, still climbing. “One more attempt. Let’s make it good.”

EIGHT
    T he flying armada climbed to one thousand feet, leveled off, turned to the north, and flew out over Puget Sound once again. For want of fuel—and out of fear for Jay’s dwindling strength—they decided against going clear to West Point. They turned inbound over Elliot Bay, seven miles out, holding steady at one thousand feet. Brock and Dr. Cooper did not tell Jay this would be his last attempt; he had enough on his mind.
    Dr. Cooper tried to keep his voice strong and even. He didn’t want to pass any fear on to his son.
    â€œIt looked good, Jay, it really did.”
    Jay was feeling tired and starting to get sick again, but more than that, a creeping terror was sneaking into his soul, giving him a gnawing pain in his gut and making his hands tremble. “What happened last time? It felt real bumpy.”
    His father explained, “We think it was turbulence coming around that big hangar. We’re going to keep you up higher this time and land you farther down the runway. It’s a trade-off. We won’t have as much runway to play with, but hopefully the wind will be a little more steady and you won’t get knocked around quite so much.”
    â€œI just . . . ,” Jay’s emotions were getting raw. “I just want to get on the ground again, that’s all. I want to get out of this airplane! I want to use my eyes and walk with my own feet on solid ground!”
    â€œI want the same thing for you, son.” Dr. Cooper spoke soothingly. “As a matter of fact, we were all supposed to go down to the waterfront tonight, remember? We were going to get fish and chips and share it with the seagulls, then walk through the aquarium. Does that sound good to you?”
    His father had mentioned the right things. It warmed Jay’s heart just to think of them. “I’d love it.”
    â€œSo what do you say? Let’s get this plane on the ground and go home.”
    Jay drew a breath and sighed loudly as he let it out. Now he began gathering whatever strength and resolve he had left. “Let’s do it.”
    â€œRight turn.”
    Jay twisted the knob for what seemed like the zillionth time. “Right turn.”
    A few seconds passed, and then his father said, “Stop turn.”
    Jay repeated, “Stop turn,” and returned the knob to neutral.
    And then he sat there, isolated from the world in a tight aluminum cocoon that to him had no windows. He was in the dark, surrounded by noise and rushing wind.
    â€œNow when you’re about to touch down, have one hand on the yoke and one hand on the throttle. You’ll have to pull the power back when I tell you, and then you’ll have to hold the nose up. It’ll be tricky. But hey, if we can get you within a few feet of the runway, a few bumps aren’t going to hurt anybody.”
    His father sounded so calm about all this, as if he’d done it every day of his life! I wish I could see, Dad, like you.
    Dr. Cooper’s eyes were riveted on the airplane carrying his son and brother-in-law. “Just a few more minutes. Just a few more—”
    Brock checked the instruments. “Descending two hundred feet a minute. That’ll do for now, but let’s keep him up high enough to get past that stupid hangar.”
    The fire trucks motored further down the runway, having gotten word from Josie Fleming that the airplane would attempt a longer landing.
    Out by Alki Point, the Coast Guard chopper and cruiser stood ready, listening to their radios, waiting for word.
    Aboard the news helicopters, the reporters were so engrossed in the unfolding event that they said very little. They, as well