xxxxvii. FREE FALLING TO HONG KONG
"WHAT?!" All of us scream at the same time.
Daniel rubs his temples. "Okay. Does anyone know how the basics of a cockpit?"
"I know the very very basics. I've taken a class once but failed. Does that count?" Skye stammers.
"I'm pretty good with engines," Chase affirms.
"It's going to have to do," I yell.
"Alright. Xavier, Daniel, go scope out the plane in case there's an aggressor on board," Ace directs. "I'll go try to resuscitate the pilot in case she's still alive. Chase, Skye, and Octavia, try to land this plane. Water landing near the harbour is our best bet."
We all split up. Inside the cockpit, we find the pilot passed out with her fingers turned blue. Ace checks for signs of a pulse and begins to perform CPR. Chase starts to examine the controls; Skye takes the pilot's seat. Everything was happening so quickly. I found myself trying to help but unable to think straight.
There were too many flashing monitors that I was unfamiliar with framing the ten by five foot room. Right here, right now, the only thing my gaze could fixate on was the distant island becoming closer and closer into view through the mist. The glare from the sun reflected off of the the ocean and the small skyscrapers. Come on Octavia, think, think.
"Wait," I pause, taking in the facts. "How fast does this jet go?"
"About 600 miles," Chase says, looking at the speedometer.
"We're not falling fast enough." My gaze flickers to the controls. It says autopilot was on. That could only mean one thing. "We're being purposefully driven straight into downtown Hong Kong."
I turn my focus onto the monitor to check our trajectory. The altitude was declining, but not nearly as fast as if we were just in free fall. That was both good news and bad news. Good news was that I was good at computers. Bad news was that I have never seen these computers.
"Ace, is it possible to override autopilot from the inside?" I state.
"Let's hope so." He stops trying to save the pilot and scans the monitor with me. "Chase, send out as many help signals as possible back to New York. Skye, be prepared to drive the jet into the harbour once Octavia and I override the signal tower."
I switch the gear into the P mode. Nothing happens against the dark screen. Seconds later, there is no response, but a password bar pops up. "What's the password?" I ask. "CIArox123?"
"I don't know," Ace's hands ball up. "We aren't that vain, okay." He says this right beneath a giant, gold plated seal. Why was that seal here anyways? To remind people which plane they were on in case they forgot?
"Wow, it's a good thing there's a failsafe password to prevent something like this from happening. Great design on the agency's part," I spit.
"Can you please not be as sarcastic as an edgy thirteen year old from the upper east side," Ace glares. "Now is not the time, Rebecca Chanel."
Chase was unable to get a signal back to headquarters. I pull out my laptop and connect it to the monitor via an ethernet cable. "If I wanted to run a program, it would take about a week to run all 36 to the fourth power possibilities for just four digits for letter or numbers. Looks like we're going to have to do this the hard way."
"Changing the trilateration of the signal tower?" Ace suggests. He brushes his chin in thought. "You're right... tricking the system into thinking we've arrived turns the plane on manual for landing. We can then reroute the plane into the middle of the ocean after we jump."
"Exactly. Altitude and speed!" I yell at Chase.
"35,000 feet and 640 miles per hour," he reports. "Aye, aye, Captain."
Shit. All of us look between one another. We were falling, and we were falling fast. "How much time does that leave us?" I ask.
"Fuck I failed trigonometry," Chase groans.
Ace helps me at the monitors. "Somewhere around twenty minutes at best before crashing." Together, we pull up the inner workings of the signal. I hand Ace my computer to start calculating alternate distances. "Whoa, you're letting me use your computer?" He grins.
"Yes. Mess it up and I'll kill you," I threat. Well to be fair... If either of us messed up, we'd both be dead so...
Meanwhile, I work on bypassing the three satellites. Ace calculates the new coordinates somewhere in the middle of the ocean. 27,000 feet, 720 miles per hour, fifteen minutes. Briefly, I managed to get on the secret service version of the ARTCC. Lines of code flash by. Almost instinctively, my fingers react without much of a second thought. 18,000 feet, 800 miles per hour, nine minutes. I'm finally able to access the signal tower.
"Alright Skye," I state. "As soon as I enter the new coordinates, you have to manually lower the plane so it's safer to jump and we can swim to the harbour. Only two minutes though. After that, we risk the plane becoming too low to fly up back in time without hitting the city."
"We have to leave your computer on the plane for the ocean's coordinates," Ace says.
"My computer? My baby?" I wince. "It's fine. Just know you killed my first born child, Blackwell."
"Just call me Roose Bolton."
I slap him. "Now is not the time for a Red Wedding reference you... you... White Walker."
Ace quickly then types in the new location from my computer. The plane suddenly jerks back and forth as it switches to manual, throwing me onto Chase. Swiftly, like water, Skye slides into the pilot's seat and drives steadies the plane. There wasn't enough time nor experience to land the plane properly; we were too low.
"Skye, we're going to get parachutes ready. Try your best to lower it to about 10,000 feet," Ace states.
"I'll stay with her," Chase nods.
Ace and I run back into the cabin where we found Xavier and Daniel rummaging for the parachutes. The slope of the airplane was starting to become steeper, indicating time was running out. All of our luggage started to slide to one side of the plane.
"There's only four parachutes," Daniel yells.
"Alright," I smirk. "Ace and I can share one, Chase and Skye will each have one, and you two can share one."
Daniel and Xavier look between one another. "What? No," Daniel shudders. "Why can't Skye and Chase share one?"
I give them a glare. "Do you really want to argue with the pilot of this plane right now?"
"Come on, I'll spend all my deutschmark on you," Xavier says, taking a swig of his maotai. The briefest hint of a smirk passed onto his face. "Strap on, you overweight sausage wurst."
"That's such a weird historical reference that no one will understand," Ace facepalms. "If someone makes a documentary or writes a book about our lives, should that obscure statement really be included?"
Xavier shrugs. "I have hobbies that don't just include killing people."
He goes on to fit the parachute around him. He opens his arms, beckoning the brooding Daniel to strap in with him. Daniel awkwardly hugged onto Xavier while avoiding eye contact. Their bodies pressed close together, with Daniel's chest vis a vis Xavier's.
"Why can't I control the parachute?" Daniel spits. "You'd probably make us smack into the side of a boat."
"Well if we do I hope you're the one that gets smushed." Xavier then goes on to ready the emergency exits. "But I guess we could each steer one strap."
Quickly, Ace and I carry the other two parachutes into the cockpit. Skye is hanging desperately on the controls and forcing the plane to remain steady despite the climbing speed and lowering distance. Her entire body is straining to drive the plane into the water despite the hurl-inducing momentum. Chase, relatably, is trying very hard to not throw up in the corner.
Ace hands the parachute to the gang leader and he exits away from the window. Through the thin glass barrier, the skyline of Hong Kong grows closer and closer. Small spots of boats migrated around in the harbour below us, but we were just barely far enough to cause any extreme damage.
10,000 feet, 910 miles per hour, forty seconds.
"Now is it," I say to Skye. Like a Cirque du Soleil trapeze artist, I hold out the parachute for Skye to strap into while driving the plane lower. Ace immediately grabs me and straps me into him. All of us put on our gear and goggles.
"Heads up everyone. We're all meeting at the safehouse. Autopilot is going back on; this plane will head to the middle of the ocean," Skye yells. "We need to jump. Now."
Daniel opens the emergency latch. A giant, ear-bursting hurricane of wind sweeps through the only exit as the plane starts to, for a second, free fall for ten more seconds. I look from the never-ending blue sea and back to Ace's determined golden eyes.
"I need you to trust me," he whispers.
I don't get a chance to protest before he throws us out of the plane.
Ace: "Vote if you think the password is CIARox123 ;)"
Skye: "Click on the link in the profile for merch and to read the next chapter for free now!"