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Fifteen minutes. That's how long you have been sitting on the tarmac at JFK International airport in New York City. It is the start of a long seven-and-a-half hour flight. At least the plane isn't overcrowded. In fact, strangely enough, the seats are sparsely populated. A woman traveling with her young daughter, a handful of businessmen, a few vacationers, and a few people returning home.
The flight attendants move among the aisles, insuring that all seat backs are upright, tray tables are closed, and electronics are turned off in preparation for takeoff.
Rick leans back and closes his eyes, relaxing as they wait for takeoff. Later, once airborne, he will open up his case and get to work on his presentation, but for now he simply leans back and enjoys the moment of peace.
The nice thing about being an air marshal, he got first pick of seats. After introducing himself to the flight crew and learning that there would be an armed police officer on the flight, Sylar picked an aisle seat in the wing exit row. It had the best leg room.
Shoving his overnight into the bin above him and his carry-on below the seat in front of him, he plucked the SkyMall magazine from the seat pocket and started flipping through the pages as the other passengers began to file aboard.
"There ya go kid." Rick said as he gave the paper with his autograph back to the boy. "While yer in town, make sure ya come ta the exhibition game we're holdin'"
"Thanks Captain! I will!" The kid said, before taking off back down the aisle, grinning ear to ear.
Rick leaned back in his first class seat, stretching his legs (because he remembered economy class, and because he could). He stretched his well muscled shoulders and arms to get comfortable, and he glanced around for the stewardess intending to order a drink. He noticed in passing the light passenger crowd.
He realized there wouldn't be service until they reached cruising altitude, so he picked up the Times and turned (with both eagerness and dread) to the sports section to while away the time before takeoff.
Ken tucked himself into his seat and placed his messenger bag under the seat in front of him. He tried to distract himself from thinking about takeoff. No matter how often he flew, he never could get used to it.
He remembered the last case he had been consulting on. Big-time embezzlement scheme, but that's what he did. Find the evidence that nailed the bad guys, even if they did all their dirty work with dollars and cents.
He nervously grabs a piece of gum, and starts chewing, easing back and trying to relax...
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A mere thirty minutes later, you are in the air with wheels up, en route to London, England. As the flight attendants begin their in-flight drink service, the voice of the captain comes across the intercom.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome aboard Transglobal Airlines Flight 652 trans-Atlantic service to Heathrow. Our flying time tonight will be approximately seven hours and 38 minutes at an altitude of 38,000 feet. We will be offering an in-flight presentation of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty; ask your flight attendant for headphones. Thank you for choosing Trans-global Airlines, and on behalf of myself and the cabin crew, have a pleasant flight."
The film begins about an hour into the flight and most of the passengers settle in to watch the movie or else doze off. About halfway through the movie, there is a sudden bout of turbulence and the captains soothing voice comes over the intercom once more.
"Folks, we're encountering a little rough air. Please remain in your seats with your seat belts securely fastened and we should be through it fairly quickly."
No sooner does this message come across than the plane suddenly drops several dozen feet. The passengers, those awake, express startled cries and the flight attendants come across the intercom, calling for calm.
There is a bright flash that illuminates the entire cabin as lightning strikes the outer starboard engine.
"Folks," the captain's voice fills the cabin once more, "We're experiencing a minor emergency, but there is nothing to worry over. We've lost an engine, but we can fly easily enough on the three we have remaining, and..."
The voice cuts out suddenly as the lights in the cabin dim and go out. Suddenly, the nose of the plane dips strongly downward. The flight attendants scream for calm and ask that all passengers assume crash positions. Most comply without question.
The aircraft descends rapidly, causing your ears to pop repeatedly. Then, quite suddenly, there is a jarring stop, followed by a loud noise like a explosion and cold water begins to flood the cabin. A flight attendant shouts, "Use your seat cushions as floatation devices!"
In the next instant, you are knee-deep in dark, icy water...
Rich grabs his ready bag from the overhead and stuffs his laptop and tablet into the water-proof sack. He then looks to make sure the other passengers are exiting the plane in an orderly manner, assisting any who need his help.
The nice part of being the only one in the exit isle, he had time to get his own gear stowed and open the emergency door.
The not nice part, he had to help others out first.
Sylar grabbed the bag under the seat and dropped his electronics into a heavy duty bag and sealed it before flipping the shoulder strap over his head and sliding the bag around behind him. Next he popped the overhead and slipped his backpack on.
Then he opened the emergency exit onto the wing and checked that the emergency ramp started inflating.
After which he called out Get a move on people! This plane won't float for long!
While waiting for the first person to get to him he started looking for signs of the life rafts.
At least we made it down!
Ken quickly grabs his phone and his computer bag and heads for the exit. He's glad to get off the plane, but the prospect of floating around in a rubber raft until help could arrive didn't sound so amazing.
Still, any landing you can walk away from, right?
Waking up to the chaos of people rushing about from the crash, Rick grabbed his duffel and headed towards the exit.
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Chaos reigns in the wake of the crash, with people screaming and crying, but cooler heads among the flight attendants and crew prevail and soon, inflatable life rafts are employed. The heavy rain and darkness make it difficult to see and gather everyone, but soon, a small mass of survivors huddle on two life rafts. After a quick round of introductions, the following group is found to be present:
Raft #1:
Rick "Captain" Kidd
Ken Ulrich
Captain George McCord, pilot (badly injured)
Christine Davis, senior flight attendant
Gennifer May, British vacationer
Paul Gregor, American businessman
Hans Wexler, retired German watchmaker
Hikaru Yoshida, newlyweds who speak little English
Ume Yoshida, newlyweds who speak little English
Raft #2:
Kyle Marcus, navigator
Amy Wellington, rookie flight attendant
Celeste Marcel (a young girl who apparently speaks only French)
Sylar Patrelli
Richard Mirov
Killian Roberts, American novelist
James Michaelson, American soldier returning from leave
Amelia Casey, would-be model
Each raft contains a dozen life preservers, a survival kit, a canopy, a radar reflector, a life raft repair kit, a bailing bucket, a signal mirror, a police whistle, a raft knife, a CO2 bottle for emergency inflation, an inflation pump, two oars, a 75-foot restraining line, a magnetic compass, a dye marker, a fishing kit, an oceanic survival manual (waterproof), a Maglite, a flare gun, 24 days of emergency rations, and six seawater desalination kits.
Sylar uses a couple of caribiners to clip his bags together with a couple of the spare life preservers. He pulls out his headlamp and straps it around his head.
He then takes stock of the airplane, depending on how many holes got punched in the hull it may float for a bit. He also looks around in the water for signs of leaking fuel (if the tanks are not ruptured, they provide buoyancy as the fuel is lighter than water) and floating debris from the cabin or cargo holds.
If it looks like the plane will float for a bit he'll look at the others. I'm heading back over to grab as much food or drinks as I can. The snack carts are full of sealed food and drink. I could use some assistance.
Kyle, get that line secured to our raft and throw it over to the other one, let's not get us separated.
Sylar is also checking if any of the other life rafts deployed. If not, getting one deployed for the extra supplies will be his first goal, followed by the food and drinks, then the cabin first aid kits, any other carry on luggage and seat bottoms. He'll share this with anyone interested in helping.
RIchard is willing to help you.
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One large hole where the plane broke into two pieces on impact with the water. The plane is taking on water fast and the forward half may not be afloat long. The fuel tanks, however, seem to be intact and are keeping the back half afloat, at least for a time. There is a lot of debris in the water, some of which can be reached from the life rafts, and which includes food and drinks. The others begin snagging as many cans, bottles, and packages as they can.
Each life raft also has an automatic transponder beacon that activated when the raft was inflated.
ANYONE HAVE A MEDICAL CONDITION NEEDING MEDICATION? If you see your bag, point it out!
Sylar will jump onto the wing and make his way back to the plane, avoiding the jagged edges from where it broke in half.
As noted before, he starts tossing stuff out onto the wing for Richard to toss into a raft.
Richard helps Sylar move as many cases back towards the 2 rafts. He also tries to keep an eye out for his own bag, making sure to recover it and send it back to the raft as well.
Seeing what's going on, Ken helps the group in his raft keep close to the one with Rick and Sylar. He looks over the supplies and tries to remember something.
"Did any of you play this game at your office? One where you have to pretend you're stuck on a life raft and rank how important each item is? doesn't seem quite so funny now, but I sure wish I could remember more about it."
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On board the aircraft, you find things in a state of disarray. Several people are still strapped into their seats; you aren't certain whether they are unconscious or dead. With others, there is little doubt. One woman has been impaled by a piece of fuselage, her sightless eyes staring forward into nothing. Another passenger, a young man, sits with his legs crushed beneath a section of the bulkhead that has collapsed. He moans softly, indicating that, for the moment, he is still alive.
Luggage has toppled from the overhead bins and is scattered about the cabin, making movement difficult.
Outside, the young girl who identified herself only as Celeste tugs at Richard's sleeve and points to a darkened area of water, not too distant from the rafts. "Qu'est-ce que c'est? Là-bas?"
Oh damn, possible survivors! Sylar moves over to check for pulses on those unconscious. Find something to work as a pry bar. See if we can get that guy out.
Hearing Sylar's call of survivors, Rick enters the wreckage to help. He will check to see who is still alive, and who they can rescue.
"Sounds like a good idea ma'am." Rick said to the Stewardess.
He shook his head at the little girl.
"Sorry little lady, can't tell what yer sayin!" he said as he got back out of the raft and onto the plane again. He heads towards what he remembered was the Flight Attendant's station to look for the first aid kit there.
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Inside the downed tail section, time is growing short. Working together, you manage to free the trapped man, but he is too much in shock and pain to be of any real help. The water is rising, but Cap manages to get the first aid kit from the flight attendant's station. Rick manages to spot the black bag that the businessman was shouting about. It is secured with a padlock.
Sylar will see if he can get one of the door slides to inflate. A third flotation device will provide some space to stretch out and give them some redundancy.
Rick grabs the first-aid kit and goes back to the raft, helping anyone he can along the way.
"Here's the kit!" Rick shouts, tossing the first-aid kit to the stewardess.
Richard grabs the black case the man had described and quickly exits the sinking plane. He gets back on board after assisting anyone still needing help, then climbs back into the raft.
"Here is your case sir. What is in it that is so important?"
With a last look around to see if there is anyone left alive, Sylar pushes off on the inflated raft.
Get these tied together, and start scooping anything up thats floating in the water!
That said, Sylar starts looking for any floating bags, seat cushions, loose clothing/blankets, water bottles, soda cans, etc, and tosses them over his shoulder into the raft.
Richard turns to look at the French girl.
"What is it now?" he asks, then follows her line of sight to the open water, catching sight of the sinister fin cutting through the waves.
Shark! F#$@ing shark!", he yells.
Kidd looked out at the shouts of alarm and just shakes his head.
"Would you all just re-lax? I seen this National Geographic special on sharks. As long as you don't look like a seal or bleed inta the water, we're fine."
Probably, he thought to himself.
Where'd the body come from? Both pieces of the plane are still on the surface and just starting to sink?
If the three rafts aren't tied together yet, Get those ropes together, we need to stay linked up.
And get the oars out, we should put a little distance between us and the plane.
Sylar pulls himself back to his original survival raft and transfers back to it. Putting action to words, he'll pull out the pieces for an oar and start assembling it.
Ken hurries to help lash the rafts together. He follows Sylar's example and get an oar out as well.
"Hey, those sharks can't get to us in the boats, can they?"
The boat's themselves shouldn't look appetizing, but if enough sharks show up, and there are enough dead, a frenzy might kick off, and then the sharks are likely to be biting anything around. A little space between us and them would seem prudent.
Sylar realizes a significant breach in protocol and addresses the others in the raft with him, My apologies, my name is Sylar Patrelli. As long as we all remain calm, we'll get through this. Nodding to the young french girl that alerted them to the sharks, thank you for the warning, what is your name?
He'll go around the boat getting introductions covered, and asking their occupations.
Kyle, can you get the emergency beacon from the kit and work on that? Amy, why don't you get the supplies we recovered organized.
Sylar already knew the crew members from his preflight introductions. He figured, and hoped, that they would accept his lead and set an example for the others.
If James is the typical buff military type, Sylar will ask him to assist with rowing.
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Captain George McCord, pilot (badly injured)
Christine Davis, senior flight attendant
"My name is Christine Davis. I've been a flight attendant with Transglobal for 14 years, and I can assure you that this is the first time such an incident has occurred on the more than 12,000 flights I've been on. This brave man, who probably saved our lives, is Captain McCord," she says, indicating the wounded man that lies unconscious on her lap.
Gennifer May, British vacationer
"Gennifer May," she says meekly. "I was on holiday to New York and was heading back home to Cornwall."
Paul Gregor, American businessman
"My name is Paul Gregor, and I have important business in London." He turns to Christine and scowls. "I've logged hundreds of air miles, and I've never witnessed such incompetence! I demand that you find a way to get me to London... now!"
Hans Wexler, retired German watchmaker
"I am Hans Vexler," the older gentleman says, with a thick German accent. "I, too, vas on holiday unt vas comink home. I am zee maker uf vatches." He taps his wristwatch for emphasis.
Hikaru Yoshida, newlyweds who speak little English
Ume Yoshida, newlyweds who speak little English
"My name... is... Yoshida," the man says haltingly. "Wife... is Ume. We... just married."
Kyle Marcus, navigator
Kyle looks up from fiddling with the emergency beacon in the raft. "Kyle Marcus, navigator," he says with a nod and a wave.
Amy Wellington, rookie flight attendant
Uhm... Amy. Amy Wellington," the young woman replies with a British accent. "I've been with Transglobal for... uh... almost three months. I've never been in, well, an aircraft incident."
Celeste Marcel (a young girl who apparently speaks only French)
The girl, it appears, has managed to pieces together what everyone else is doing, and follows suit. "Je suis Celeste." she says simply.
Killian Roberts, American novelist
"Killian Roberts, eternally writing the great American novel." He shrugs.
James Michaelson, American soldier returning from leave
"Oh, my turn. Uh, James Michaelson, Tech Sergeant, US Air Force. I was home on leave from Ramstein AFB, Germany and headed back."
Amelia Casey, would-be model
"I'm Amelia Casey. I'm hoping to go to Paris to study modeling, but it looks like I may be dying in the ocean!" Tears begin to trickle down her cheeks.
"I'm Richard Mirov, NYPD on my way to London for a seminar on terrorism."
He greets his fellow raft-mates.
"What can I do to help?"
"I'm Rick Kidd. You might'a heard of me as 'Captain' Kidd; I play baseball in the majors. Pleased ta meet ya." He tips his cap.
"I was gonna play an exhibition game in London; but I don't know if thats gonna happen now..."
He also picks up an oar to help row.
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With all able hands assisting, you row away from the downed aircraft. Kyle gets the emergency beacon working and you settle in to wait, the men keeping watch in shifts (except Paul Gregor, who refuses). Morning brings with it a dense fog, as thick as you've ever seen. You are literally able to see little more than a few feet away.
Most of the passengers are just starting to awaken when you find the water growing more and more shallow. A few moments later, you come ashore on a deserted stretch of beach.
"Well my name's Ken Ulrich. I'm a forensic accountant. Mostly I do consulting on fraud cases. You hear about that big scandal with SoftCom? I was part of the group they called in to put the pieces together for the trial. Anyway, I was going to a seminar in London, kinda like Rick here"
Sylar Patrelli, recent college grad. I work with the airlines. Good news, our flight plan should have had us traveling along the coast of new England. Thirty minutes out from JFK would put us someplace along the coast of Maine or Nova Scotia.
Sylar takes a look around the beach as he helps pull the rafts up onto shore. He looks around at the beach trying to figure out just where they might be along the coast.
Kidd helped draw the raft up above the high water line and flipped it inverted for use as a rain shelter.
"Well wherever we are it is better than in the water surrounded by sharks!"
Richard takes out his pistol and checks to make sure it is in good working order. He then helps any of the injured out of the raft and onto the beach.
"Maine or Nova Scotia you say? Humm, well lets hope there is a town or something close by!"
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The coastline seems unfamiliar; it could be any stretch of natural beach.
"Fine," Gregor says, taking out his cellphone.
"Mr. Gregor, the salt water..." Christine begins, but Gregor shushes her with a wave of his hand.
"Waterproof," he says confidently, "The best money can buy."
He frowns, then scowls and stares at the unit. "No signal! Piece of junk!" he shouts, sliding it back into his pocket.
"You!" he says, pointing at Sylar, "You seem competent; where the hell are we?"
Before Sylar can answer, a low growl rises out of the fog. It is a deep, throaty, guttural sound, not unlike the growl of a tiger or lion, but much louder. The fog makes it impossible to be certain from which direction the sound is coming.
The passengers huddle together, suddenly frightened, except for Gregor and Michaelson. The former clutches his precious black bag and begins to back towards the rafts; the latter looks about and finds a sturdy piece of driftwood, wielding it like a baseball bat.
"Holy crap what is that..." Commented Kidd backing away hurriedly. He dove for his bag, quickly unzipped it and rooted around until he drew out his favorite baseball bat. He stood up then and looked around wildly.
Sylar frowns, he's had a knack for knowing when not to walk down dark ally's. A quick check of where the others were, and he slid one hand into his jacket, pulling his own pistol and slowly racking the action. Looking to make sure he was standing out of Richard's line of fire, he stated to Richard, I have this side covered. He motions for the others to back towards the water and rafts.
WHO'S THERE?!