LACKING VIRTUES by Thomas Kirkwood Read Free Book Online

the captain shut down electrical power from engine number two generator, and did so with exemplary speed. But we know his actions were too late. So what does this mean? That the fire ignited while the relief pilot was delivering his message. There you have it. That’s how close the crew came to bringing this one home safely.”
     
    “When did the captain find out about the fire?” Johnson asked.
     
    “A few seconds later.”
     
    “How did he react then?”
     
    “With healthy frustration,” Simmons said. “To quote the transcript, ‘Shit, anything else gonna go wrong tonight?’ But he remained cool and proceeded to make the proper choices. From this point on, Flight Twenty appears to have been doomed.”
     
    “What strikes me, though,” Warner said, “is that there was a window of opportunity, a few seconds, in which a severed electrical lead remained live. If electricity had been shut down in that period, we would be researching an incident here rather than an accident. Please understand I’m not suggesting pilot error. The pilot behaved swiftly and reasonably. However, if there had been some sort of warning of a live wire in conjunction with a fuel leak, the electricity could have been shut down automatically in time to prevent the fire.
     
    “One of my conclusions as we return to Washington is this: we need to study closely the critical period of the flight when fuel was leaking out and a hot wire was flapping around but the fire had not yet ignited. I want us to come up with solid recommendations in warning system coverage, pilot training procedures and possible mechanical revisions to prevent a repeat of what happened here in Atlanta.
     
    “Now, I’d like to turn to summations of your findings in the specific areas to which you were assigned. Clifton, would you or Ward begin with engine number one.”
     
     
     

 
     
    Chapter Seven
     
     
     
    Delors composed himself. “Georges,” he said, “do you recall the first time I asked you for a contribution?”
     
    “Yes, of course. It was to help defray the costs of bugging Mitterrand’s office.”
     
    “That’s right. Did you think I kept the money?”
     
    “I didn’t think about it, Paul. If you kept it, so what? I needed privileged information to build my movement. You were able to get that information for me, at great risk to yourself. A man has a right to compensate himself in such cases.”
     
    “That money, Georges, and all of your generous contributions since, went to finance the source of whom I spoke. I wasn’t yet deputy director of the intelligence services; I didn’t have access to discretionary funds. I was afraid that if I revealed my source, someone higher up would take credit; or terminate our involvement for ethical reasons. You see, Georges, the information crucial to our military programs came from the United States. It was stolen from them by a Soviet spy experimenting with private enterprise on the side. Your contributions helped to pay him. In a sense, you have worked with this man before.”
     
    Michelet ground out his cigar and laughed a rare laugh. “You don’t say? Incredible that it took a Russian to get the Americans to share with their allies. They really are hypocritical and self-righteous bastards, aren’t they?”
     
    “Yes, they are. But it wasn’t a Russian, Georges, it was an East German named Walter Claussen.”
     
    “Stasi?”
     
    “No, KGB. He was personally recruited by General Volkov while he was finishing his post-graduate work in aeronautical engineering in Moscow. Hand-picked, as it were, to set up the most ambitious fifth column operation of the postwar era.
     
    “Georges, the operation was meticulously disguised on both sides of the Atlantic, so much so that not even Claussen’s KGB colleagues knew of it. This was Volkov’s wish. He evidently feared betrayal.
     
    “Claussen moved to the States, where his papers showed him to be an emigrant from West Germany. He took on