"We lost an engine," Jake said to Helen, his voice soothing. "That's why we nosed down and turned to the right like that."
"Whu... whu... what?" Helen blabbered.
"C'mon, hon," he said. "You're the flight instructor. Logic it out. You lose your right side engine on a DC-10 during a climb and you've suddenly lost a third of your thrust. Your nose is gonna drop when that happens. And the plane is gonna yaw right because the remaining thrust suddenly becomes uneven. They're under control now. You feel it?"
Helen raised her head up from Jake's shoulder and looked around carefully. There was no smoke in the cabin, no more shuddering of the airframe, and it was obvious they were indeed under controlled flight. "What happened to the engine?" she asked.
"It blew," Jake said. "There was smoke and flame from it but it's out now."
"It is?"
"It is," he confirmed. "I saw them use the extinguisher on it."
"What if that's not all that's wrong?" she asked. "Remember what I'm always telling you. Planes go down because of a chain of events. What if this was just the first link in the chain? What if..."
"Helen," he said, pulling her against him. "I think you..."
The pilot suddenly came on the intercom, interrupting him. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice sounding calm, cool, collected, almost cheery, as if this sort of thing happened every day, "I apologize for that little bout of excitement we just had and I'd like to assure everyone that everything is under control up here. We lost the number three engine just as we were climbing through sixty-five hundred feet. That was that whine and that bang you all heard and it was also the reason for that momentary change of attitude and direction we experienced.
"We have shut that engine down and used the built-in extinguisher to smother the flames that were coming from it. Now, we don't know why that engine blew and it's really not important at this particular moment. We do, however, have two other engines and, as you can hear, they are both running just fine. As far as we can tell, no other part of the aircraft suffered any sort of damage.
"Our plan is to return to Logan airport as quickly as possible and get you all back on the ground. Before we can do that, however, we need to get rid of some of our fuel or otherwise the aircraft will be heavier than we really want for an optimum landing. So what we're going to do is level off at twelve thousand feet and go out over the Atlantic Ocean. Once we're sure that all other aircraft are out of our way, we're going to jettison about sixty thousand pounds of jet fuel from the wing tanks. This will take about fifteen minutes or so. Once we're lightened up, we'll turn around and be vectored in for a direct approach to Logan.
"At this particular moment in time, though we have declared an emergency due to the circumstances, I see no reason why we shouldn't have a perfectly safe and normal landing in about thirty-five minutes or so.
"Once again, I apologize for the inconvenience and will remind everyone to please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened."
The captain's soothing words, and, more importantly, the continued smooth and controlled flight of the aircraft, served to calm the passengers considerably. The screams and cries faded away. Jake's heart returned to an almost normal rate. The adrenaline slowly leeched from his bloodstream. Even Helen calmed down. She did not release the grip on his arm, but she did at least loosen it up a little.
"You okay?" Jake asked her.
"I'll be okay when my feet are on the ground again," she said. "Jesus Christ. Thirty-five more minutes in this thing? That's thirty-five more minutes that something can go wrong in."
It actually took forty-three minutes. After the plane leveled out over the Atlantic Ocean, Jake watched out his window at the wing tip and was rewarded with the sight of thousands of gallons of jet fuel streaming off behind them.
"Take a look at this, Helen," he said. "This is definitely something you don't see every day."
Her face was looking a little green. "Pass," she said blandly. "Just tell me when this is over."
Sixteen and a half minutes after the dumping procedure began, it was over. Jake felt the aircraft banking slowly to the left, making a lazy circle back toward Boston and the safety of the airport.
The descent was normal and uneventful. Even so, Helen jumped when the sound of the landing gear deploying reached her ears.
"It's okay," Jake told her soothingly, still holding her against his body. "It's just the gear coming down."
"I know that," she said, a little defensively.
The ground grew closer and closer and, finally, they were over the runway. They thumped down in a perfectly normal fashion except for the applause and the collective sigh of relief that filled the cabin. The pilot did not utilize the reverse thrusters, probably, Jake figured, out of fear that uneven reverse thrust would make the aircraft swerve off the runway. This made their roll out rather long, but at no time did they seem out of control. When they reached the end of the runway, Jake saw out the window that dozens of fire engines, crash trucks, and two ambulances were standing by in a staging area. The plane rolled down the taxiway and came to a stop about two hundred yards from the main terminal.
"And we're down, ladies and gentlemen," the captain told them cheerfully. "Everything seems to remain in order so there will be no emergency evacuation of the aircraft. Unfortunately, do to the fact that there was a small fire in the number three engine, we cannot park at the terminal. They are bringing a set of stairs to the main entrance door and as soon as it is in place we will have all of you exit the aircraft in the normal fashion. Please take your carry-on baggage and all personal belongings with you when you leave. Your luggage will be removed and taken to the terminal. I am told that another DC-10 is already on the way from New York City and we should have all of you back in the air in less than two hours."
"Not bloody fucking likely," Helen muttered. Her sentiment was shared by several other people as well.
"Once again," the captain continued, "I apologize for the excitement and for the inconvenience. As a gesture of goodwill, the airline will be issuing a credit to every passenger onboard that is good for one round trip flight anywhere in the continental United States that we fly."
"That's very big of them," Helen said. "They nearly kill us and now they give us a free flight on another one of their fucked up airplanes."
"Helen," Jake said, "it really wasn't that big of a deal. We lost an engine. We're down and safe now."
"Yeah," she said, her eyes still wide and scared. "This time."
The first thing they did upon entering the terminal building was go to the bar in the first class lounge and order a couple of stiff drinks. They then went and found a table to drink them at. Jake lit a cigarette, drawing deeply, feeling the soothing nicotine rush to his head.
"Give me one of those," Helen demanded, reaching for the pack that sat on the table.
"You don't smoke," Jake reminded her.
"I do now," she said. She lit up, inhaled, coughed violently for a few moments, and then took another drag.
"You're gonna make yourself sick," Jake told her.
"I'm already sick," she said, picking up her drink. It was a double whiskey and coke. She swallowed half of it without moving the glass from her lips.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Jake asked her.
"No," she said. "Jake, that scared me."
"Well... it scared me too," he said. "When that engine first went up and I felt that yaw and the nose drop, I thought it was my ass, but it's over now. We're safe."
"They want us to just jump on another one their planes in two hours, Jake!" she said. "Another fucking DC-10, no less."