Storm Front

“You don’t think the airlines thought of that?” the pi lot said. “There’s redundancy upon redundancy in these planes. In addition to the main power supply, there’s a battery backup that lasts twelve hours. The battery is in a steel case, imbedded in the door. You’ll never get to it.”

Storm stared at the door for a long moment, as if he had Superman’s heat ray vision. Alas, he did not.

But he suddenly realized he had something that would work just as well.

He looked down at his left wrist. The phrase “Variable Frequency Dial Allows Multi-Channel Communication!” was flashing in his head.

“What frequency is the lock set at?” Storm asked.

“What…? I have no idea.”

“No problem. Do the flight attendants have a small tool kit? I’m also going to need a piece of electronics with a nine-volt battery and someone’s laptop. Ask around among the passengers.”

Montgomery summoned two of the flight attendants, who soon produced the items Storm requested.

He took one last look at the SuperSpy EspioTalk Wristwatch Communicator. “Sorry, Ling. Gotta do it,” he said, then pried off the facing.

Inside, he found a circuit board that was, in its basic premise, like the Westing house in his father’s garage. It was just a lot smaller. He went to work. Changing the toy into a device that would send out an electromagnetic pulse at the proper frequency was just a matter of pirating parts from the laptop, combining them with the transmitter from the wristwatch, and powering it with the nine-volt battery.

It just took time, which, Storm was soon to learn, they were running out of even more quickly than he thought. The problem was no longer leaving U.S. airspace. It was staying in it that could kill them.

“I don’t mean to rush you,” Captain Montgomery said. “But how’s it coming?”

“Just a little longer. Why?”

“Because an old airline pi lot like me has an altimeter built into his head. Mine is telling me we’re at about eight thousand feet. And I don’t think those F-18s just off our wings are going to be very patient. They’ll get orders to shoot us down if we get much lower than five thousand feet. One of them just did a head butt.”

“A head butt?” Storm asked as he screwed a wire into place.

“It’s a maneuver they attempt with a nonresponsive aircraft. They soar vertically upward to within a couple hundred feet of your nose, trying to get you to point it back up.”

“I’m almost done,” Storm said. “While I’m finishing, I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Get these passengers out of first class,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when I get that door open. The fewer people to get hit by any stray bullets, the better.”

“You got it,” Montgomery said, rising to his feet. The man was clearly energized by having a sense of purpose. So Storm added one more thing:

“Oh, and Captain? Don’t go far. I’m going to need someone to land this plane after we take back control of it.”

“I like your style, Storm,” he said.

“Thanks, Captain. By the way, I never got your full name.”

“It’s Roy. Roy Montgomery.”

The men exchanged stiff salutes. Montgomery began herding passengers farther back in the plane, while Storm put his head back down in his task. He wasn’t going to tell Montgomery this, but he was only about 50 percent certain his jury-rigged gadget was going to work. The variable frequency dial only operated within a certain range. If the lock was set to a frequency outside that range — which was always possible — it wouldn’t respond to the pulse.

Storm finished around the time Montgomery had succeeded in emptying the first class cabin. The captain was slightly out of breath as he approached Storm.

“Okay. That’s done. Do you mind if I ask: What’s your plan once you get the lock to release?”

“Pretty simple: I open the door and shoot the guy flying the plane.”

“How’s your aim?” Montgomery asked.

“Pretty good. Why? Is there anything on the instrument panel that can’t be shot?”

“Yeah, pretty much all of it.”

“Then I guess I better not miss,” Storm said.

“Okay. Just remember, these babies all have cameras throughout the front part of the cabin,” Montgomery said. “It’s another thing we owe to 9/11. It lets the captain know that it’s safe to open the door.”

“In other words, he’s going to know I’m coming.”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Montgomery said. But Storm thought he noticed a small head shake as Montgomery retreated back to business class.

Storm put it out of his mind, concentrating on the tiny dial on the side of the wristwatch. He had reengineered the device so it now had several extra wires coming out of it. Two of them led to the nine-volt battery. He connected the final wire — thus turning the contraption on — switched the dial to the lowest frequency, and focused on the door.