crash has already gone out.  Within hours air-crash investigators and

the news media will be swarming around like locusts.  Best to keep what

we've found under wraps until we hear from the proper authorities."

Simon weighed Pitts words for a moment.  "I get the picture.

"Then let's get a move on and find a survivor,"

What was normally a twenty-second walk took Pitt nearly two minutes of

struggle through the thigh-high water before he reached the bathrooms.

His feet had already turned numb and he didn't require the services of

Doc Gale to tell him he'd have to dry and warm them in the next half

hour or risk frostbite.

The death toll would have been much higher if the plane had carried a

full load of passengers.  But even with many of the seats vacant, he

still counted fifty-three bodies.

He paused to examine a female flight attendant seated against the rear

bulkhead.  Her head was tilted forward and blond hair spilled across her

face.  He felt no pulse.

He reached the compartment containing the bathrooms. Three had the

VACANT sign showing and he peered inside, They were empty.  The fourth

read OCCUPIED and was locked.  Someone had to be inside to have slipped

the latch.

He knocked loudly on the door and said, "Can you understand me?   Help

is here.  Please try to unlock the door."

Pitt put his ear to the panel and thought he heard a soft sobbing from

the other side, followed by low murmurs as if two people were conversing

in hushed tones.

He raised his voice.  "Stand back.  I'm going to force the door.  "

Pitt raised his dripping leg and gave a sharp but controlled kick, just

enough to break the latch without smashing the door against whoever was

the jam.  The door gave about an inch.  A gentle nudge with his shoulder

and it swung inward.

Two women were huddled in the cramped rear of the bathroom, standing on

top of the toilet platform out of the water, shivering and clutching

each other for support.  Actually, the one doing the clutching was a

uniformed flight attendant, her eyes wide with alarm and the fear of a

trapped doe. She was standing on her right leg, the left was stiffly

extended to the side.  A wrenched knee, Pitt guessed.

The other woman straightened and stared back at Pitt defiantly.  Pitt

immediately recognized her as the apparition at the window.  Part of her

face was still masked with coagulated blood, but both eyes were open now

and had the cold look of hatred.  Pitt was surprised at her hostility.

"Who are you and what do you want?" she demanded in a husky voice with a

slight trace of an accent.

A dumb question was the first thought that crossed Pitts mind, but he

quickly wrote off the woman's testy challenge to shock.  He smiled his

best Boy Scout trustworthy smile.