Flight 12 to Rome: A Nick Bracco Novella by Gary Ponzo Read Free Book Online

board?”
    A thin elderly woman got up from her seat and walked around the crowded cabin to get to the wounded terrorist. As she hunched over the man, she examined the wound and said, “Are there any medical supplies on board? Some gauze, gloves, tape, alcohol, that kind of stuff?”
    Nick looked at a flight attendant, who nodded at him.
    “Then go, please.”
    She took off toward the front of the plane while two other terrorists tried to blend in with the other passengers as if Nick might forget what they looked like. He motioned them to their feet and had them stand in the back with Lisa, who seemed disgruntled about the insurrection. With the gun in his hand and seemingly in control of the situation, Nick instructed Kirk to keep watch over the back of the plane. He pointed to Lisa and added, “She’s dangerous.”
    Once back in first class, Nick gestured for the pilot who’d helped him earlier to meet him by the cockpit door.
    “Talk to him,” Nick said. “See if you can get him to open the door.”
    The pilot knocked hard, then said, “Paul, this is Kenny. Open the door.”
    Nothing.
    Nick kept an eye on the passengers who were sitting orderly while Kyle Church stood guard over them. There was a nervous smile on some of their faces.
    The pilot pressed the entry code into the keypad and tried the door. He turned to Nick and shook his head.
    “Paul,” the pilot shouted, “the FBI is in control of the plane. The terrorists are all prisoners now. Open the door and we’ll be safe.”
    Again nothing. The engines hummed loudly and Nick wondered just how far off course they were. There was no change in the direction or speed of the plane.
    Bennett slowly crossed his legs and said, “He knows what he’s doing, Agent Bracco. There are reinforcements waiting for us on the island. He lands this plane, he knows he’s safe.”
    Nick was losing his patience. “You sure we can’t get through this thing?” he asked the pilot in a soft voice.
    The pilot shrugged. “Maybe the air marshal knows something I don’t?”
    Nick slammed his elbow into the door, then said. “I’ll be right back.”
    When Nick returned to the back of the plane, the doctor was bandaging the terrorist’s leg while Kirk stood guard like a high-noon showdown.
    “Is there any way to get into the cockpit?” Nick asked.
    Kirk frowned. “Not if the pilot doesn’t want you in there.”
    “Then we have a problem,” Nick said. “This plane will land on a remote island where there will be soldiers waiting for us.”
    Kirk used his free hand to rub his bald head. “We can try to impair the flight somehow, but that puts us in the ocean.”
    “That’s your idea?” Nick asked.
    Kirk lifted his left shoulder into a half-hearted shrug. “It’s the best I got on short notice.”
    “Remind me to give you a couple of days notice before the next hijacking.”
    Suddenly the plane lurched and the engines pulled back.
    “He descending,” Kirk said. “Probably twenty minutes out.”
    “Is this thing really as invisible as they think?” Nick asked.
    “If we’re in the middle of the Atlantic, then yeah. If there’s some small island out in the middle of nowhere, then they can pull it off.”
    “And what about search parties?”
    “I’m sure he’s turned off the transponder, but eventually I think they’ll find us,” Kirk said, then looked directly at Nick and lowered his voice. “It’s just a matter of whether we’ll be alive when it happens.”
    It was the exact thought Nick had. He’d tried to hold down the images of his wife and son finding out about their father who was never found, or killed on a remote island. He looked at the faces of the passengers and found nervous smiles from people who didn’t quite understand the predicament they were in.
    “We need a plan,” Nick said to himself. “And fast.”
    A young boy came waddling through the mess on the floor to approach Nick.
    “Officer,” he said, “are we landing in Rome