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Chapters (65)
  1. Cover
  2. BOOKS BY STUART WOODS
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  64. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  65. What’s next onyour reading list?

Laurence ordered them some food, and they ran through the flight procedures for their flight to St. John’s and London the following day. He called Theresa; she was out, so he left a message, asking her to be ready for pickup at sixty-thirty AM, then he fell into bed and went immediately to sleep.

14

THEY WERE AT TETERBORO by seven-thirty, where they stowed their luggage and went through the emergency gear Don had ordered: three dry suits, GPS locator, handheld aviation radio, food, and water. Laurence had already ordered a life raft as part of the airplane’s original equipment. Don showed them how the suits worked and how to handle an emergency ditching in the North Atlantic. To Laurence’s surprise, Theresa took it in stride.

At nine AM sharp, Laurence began his takeoff roll, then rotated, got the landing gear and flaps up, and set a course in the flight management system for St. John’s, Newfoundland. They climbed to flight level 410—41,000 feet—and Don checked the range ring on the GPS. “Good tailwinds today,” he said. “We might be able to make London after St. John’s without stopping in Ireland for fuel.”

—

THEY REFUELED in St. John’s, then climbed to altitude. Don pointed at the range ring. “Unless that changes, we’re nonstop to London.” He pulled the power back a little, and the range ring moved outward. “Just in case we want to go to Norway,” Don explained. “It doesn’t hurt to have some extra fuel in reserve. I’m going to stretch my legs.” He got out of the cockpit.

A moment later, Theresa took the right seat. “I’m still alive,” she said. “I can’t believe it.”

“We’re in good hands with Don,” Laurence said. “He has a world of experience.”

“I feel I’m in good hands with you.”

—

THEY WOULD BE landing in the dark. Don, back in the right seat, talked Laurence through the setup for the approach. The weather was uncharacteristically clear, and Laurence saw the runway as they turned final.

“The autopilot knows the way,” Don said. “Stand by for a steeper-than-usual final leg—it’s a characteristic of this particular approach.”

Laurence devoted himself to slowing the airplane for the steep descent, with flaps, landing gear, and, as necessary, speed brakes. They touched down exactly where he had aimed the airplane and taxied to the ramp, where there was a car waiting.

“You go ahead,” Don said. “I’ll find a hotel and move the airplane to Oxford tomorrow. I’ve reserved hangar space there.”

“That’s perfect—half an hour from my folks’ place in the country.”

“You can always reach me on my cell phone,” Don said. “Let me know when you have a departure time, and I’ll make the arrangements and get the paperwork filed.”

They shook hands, and Laurence and Theresa got into the hired Jaguar. “Wilton Crescent, Belgravia,” he said to the driver.