Our Little Secret Ch. 02

"I'm not talking about the criminal aspects of this one case," Daniella pressed. "I'm talking about the public's perception of flight safety."

"Most of the newest aircraft already have cameras in the cabins, and some airlines have retrofitted all their planes with cameras" Peter offered. "This one didn't. Maybe the FAA should make it mandatory?" he mused. "I don't know."

"Forget cameras," Daniella warned, "they don't protect your safety. They just help prosecute after the fact. I just gotta tell you, as a woman, I suddenly have a whole new set of personal safety threats to worry about every time I step on an airplane."

"Oh God, here it comes – women only planes," Susan rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, except the crew would have to be all men," Daniella pointed out. An ‘oh yeah' expression crossed Susan's face.

"Okay, guys," Peter brought his hands together in a single silent clap, "let's not get ahead of ourselves. Take a break, and come back for five o'clock."

- - -

Joel's stomach butterflies were driving him crazy. The decision had been made to reschedule the press conference to nine o'clock on Thursday morning, which was in 90 minutes. The remainder of the NTSB interview had gone well, led mostly by Susan Grennor from the CDC. She asked how people looked. Did he touch any women? Yes, he said, he checked many pulses, and he administered the Heimlich maneuver to the flight attendant before bandaging her wounds. Does he feel any different? Joel thought about that for a while. "Somehow I feel more confident than I used to," he offered.

"What do you mean?" Susan asked.

"Well, I feel like I always knew the right thing to do, but now I seem to have the confidence to actually do it."

"Encounters with near-death experiences, even a mid-air event in which no one died, can do that," Daniella offered. Joel nodded.

Susan asked many more questions about how other people looked and behaved, and how he felt. The interview finished at 6:30. That was when Peter Johnson told him the press conference was moved back to nine o'clock the next morning.

It was 7:30 on Thursday morning, and Joel had just returned to his room after breakfast. Although they found his luggage, he went out shopping on Wednesday evening anyway, and bought a crisp new pair of pants and a new shirt, and a jacket. No tie – he would go with the open collar look.

He had worn his old clothing to breakfast, just in case he spilled something, and now he was changing into his press conference clothing. Joel barely slept all night. In part it was because of the excitement of the conference. But what really troubled him was losing his job. He was stuck in an endless loop all night. It wasn't the loss of the job itself that bothered him. It was the time and energy Joel wasted because he didn't have the courage to quit and go somewhere else.

Wasted time and energy on something I didn't even like. It ran over and over again in his mind all night.

He finished dressing, and the butterflies grew worse as he looked in the mirror. They weren't just for the press conference. The butterflies were also for what he was about to do next.

Wasted time and energy on something I don't even like. Joel pulled out his personal phone, and pressed the only speed dial number on it. It rang and rang, and Joel was just about to hang up, when the distant end answered.

"This is Valerie. I can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message."

Joel sucked in a huge breath and waited for the beep. "Val," he started unsteadily, "it's me. Listen, well, I feel like a cad doing this on voicemail, I was honestly trying to reach you in person, which I know is hardly better. Anyway, I think my life is about to change in an hour, and it might be now or never. So here goes. Val, I don't love you, and you hate my guts. So let's do the humane thing and put this monstrosity of a marriage out of its misery. I don't know how long I will be in Richmond, but when I'm done, I will come back, clean out my things, and maybe we can learn how to be happy apart, because we're certainly not happy together." He paused. "Okay. Bye" and he hung up. Joel blew out a huge breath, and for the second time in 24 hours, Joel felt a massive weight lift off his chest.

Joel checked his pockets for his room key card and wallet. One last look in the mirror – it was as good as it was going to get. Joel took the elevator to the lobby, and waited by the front door. He was told an American Airlines car would pick him up. As he was waiting, the flight attendant – the one who was choking and bashed her head – walked up and stood near him. Clearly she was waiting for the same car. She was five foot six, slim, blonde hair with green eyes. She wore black dress pants and a crisp white blouse. She wore a white cloche hat with a black band around it. Joel realized the hat was there to help hide a bandage that was still wrapped around her head. Her makeup was unnecessarily overdone, as Joel considered she was naturally beautiful. Perhaps she had bruising that required some tasteful camouflage.

"Hi," Joel said.

"Hi," she said coolly, and looked away. Joel realized she must have guys hit on her all the time.

"Oh, of course," Joel rolled his eyes to himself, "you don't recognize me. "I'm Joel Winkman."

Her eyes shot wide and her mouth opened into a large ‘O' in surprise, and then a massive smile with twinkling eyes looked back at him. She closed the distance to him and wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug. "Thank you!" she cried.

"No thanks required," he offered gently. "I was just glad to help out."

She pulled away and looked at him properly now. "The doctors told me I would have certainly died if you hadn't pulled that egg out of my throat."

"Hey," Joel shrugged, "your lips were turning blue. I couldn't just leave you there." She nodded her head and pursed her lips. "How's your head? I mean, did you suffer a concussion or anything?"

"No," she shook her head. "Just a nasty cut. Thanks for bandaging that up too. The doctors said you did a good job. Thirty six stitches," she pointed at the bandage under her hat. "Hurts like hell when the meds wear off."

"Wow" Joel nodded with empathy. "There was a surgeon on board, and he was worried you might have a concussion, or worse, a spinal injury. When the EMTs came on board, I told them they had to take you of on a spine board."

"That explains it," she nodded. "I woke up in a hospital quarantine room. They had already taken dozens of x-rays," she remembered. "They x-rayed my head, my neck, and my back. No fractures."

"I'm so glad you weren't badly hurt," Joel smiled.

"But I was!" she protested. "I'm not joking. The doctors told me I would have suffocated if you hadn't Heimliched. I don't know how to thank you."

"Tell you what," Joel smirked, "give me big kiss at the press conference in front of all the cameras and we're even."

"Yeah right," she half-smiled, "that's not happening."

Just then another equally striking girl walked up and joined them. Joel looked at the second woman, and then back to the flight attendant. They had to be sisters.

"Anna," the flight attendant introduced, "this is Joel Winkman."

Anna looked at Joel. "Pleased to meet you, Joel ..." She stopped, and looked back at her sister. "The Joel Winkman from the flight?" The flight attendant nodded. Anna looked back to Joel "Mister Winkman, I am so glad to meet you. And thank you for saving my sister's life."

"Pleased to meet you, too Anna." Joel smiled. "As I was saying to ..." he turned to the flight attendant. "I'm sorry, but I don't know your name."

"Oh my God," she looked away with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. You introduced yourself, and I just ignored you. I'm Melissa. Melissa Ferry."

"Well, you didn't ignore me," Joel smiled, "you gave me a big bear hug!" Joel turned to Anna. "Damn near squeezed the life right out of me!" he smiled.

"So, Joel," Anna asked, "what do you do?"

"No idea," Joel grinned. "I just got fired."

"Oh my," Melissa worried, "not on my account I hope."

"No," Joel smiled, "nothing like that. Actually, it was the best thing that happened to me ... well, second best now that that I know I saved your life," he smiled. Melissa's eyes beamed brightly.

"So are you married," Anna asked. Melissa shot her a hard look, but Anna just shrugged.

"It's complicated," Joel answered plainly. "My marriage is sort of going the way of my old job."

"That's too bad," Melissa offered.

"Well, I happen to believe it's better to come from a broken marriage than to live in one."

"So you're just fired and you're in a failed marriage," Anna summarized.

"Yeah," Joel smirked, "I'm a real catch." Both girls smiled openly. He paused. "But enough of me ..." Just then a man entered the main lobby doors and asked the three of them if they were waiting for the American Airlines crew shuttle. They all nodded.

"Wait," Melissa called out, "what about Heather and Claire?" Joel assumed she was referring to the other two flight attendants.

"I already took two other ladies with the pilot and co-pilot over about thirty minutes ago," the driver offered, "one had a cast on her arm, but I didn't get their names."

"That must be them," Melissa nodded.

"I'll come back for anyone we've missed," the driver offered, "but I was told there are only seven in all."

The shuttle was a full-sized, black unmarked van. The driver held the side swing doors open for the two ladies and Joel, and then he closed the doors once they found their seats. "Where are we going?" Anna asked when they had all taken their seats. Mellissa and Anna were in the back bench seat, and Joel in the front seat behind the driver. He turned half way in his seat so he could look at the girls behind him and talk. A third bench seat behind the girls remained open.

"The Convention Center," the driver answered from the front of the van as he pulled forward. "It's about a ten minute drive."

"Why the convention center?" Anna asked?

"I hear the press conference is huge," Melissa offered.

"Huge?" Joel asked, his butterflies returning with a vengeance.

"People are flying in from everywhere," Melissa nodded.

"Seriously?" he asked.

"Are you kidding?" Melissa asked him incredulously, "a plane is hit by some weird lightening thing and all the women pass out for twelve hours. Everyone is here. The FAA, FBI, NTSB, CDC, CIA, NSA, DOD, NOAA, Boeing, Airbus, the French equivalent to the NTSB, whatever that is, even NASA – they're all here, and about a million reporters."

"Holy shit!" Joel breathed hoarsely.

"And you're the star!" Melissa teased.

Joel went silent. His stomach butterflies had turned into raging vampire bats.

"Sure you still want that kiss?" Melissa smirked.

"What kiss?" Anna asked.

"We were just joking," Melissa smiled to her sister. "Joel asked me to kiss him in front of all the cameras to thank him."

"And you said no!" Anna winked to her sister.

"So you do it," Melissa teased.

"Yeah," Joel joined the game, "you do it," he smiled at Anna.

"Oh, okay!" she said in a drawn out, overdramatic, mock sigh, and they all laughed.

"Anna," Joel asked, "where do you live?"

"D.C," she nodded. "I drove down here when I heard Melissa was in the hospital."

"And are you married?" Joel asked, returning the brazen inquires.

"Nope," she smirked, "and keeping it that way."

They kept the chit chat light as the driver made their way to the convention center. Once they arrived, Joel and Melissa were escorted to a back room, while Anna, who was not a participant in the press conference, was whisked to the VIP seating area.

There were at least twenty other people in the green room. Joel recognized Captain Granger and the two other flight attendants from the flight, one of them had a cast on her right arm. The good captain saw Joel enter, stood up, crossed the room, and shook his hand. "I'm so glad you could make it," he smiled.

"I'm not sure why I'm here," Joel offered honestly. "You guys flew the plane. All I did was ... I don't even know what I did."

"You did a lot!"

"Captain Granger, I really think ..."

"Call me Paul," Granger interrupted, and patted Joel gently on the shoulder.

Just then the co-pilot walked over and joined them. "Gary," Granger offered, "this is Joel Winkman."

"Hey Joel," Gary Tallwood shook his hand. "At last we meet. I just want to thank you for a fantastic job."

"Thanks," Joel offered, "I'm not sure I did much."

"Are you kidding me?" Gary asked loudly.

"I'm not trying to be falsely modest," Joel offered to both pilots. "I mean, except for helping out Melissa, what did I do that was so useful?" By this time a small crowd, including the three flight attendants, converged around them, eager to hear firsthand details.

"You took control. Joel, we didn't know what we were dealing with. We saw that thing just before it hit. Gary and I both passed out. We woke up, and started checking system after system, trying to figure out what the hell hit us and how much damage we took. We had no clue what the status was in the cabin. We're up front, and system after system checks out okay. After five minutes, Gary and I started breathing easy, figuring we had just experienced some weird atmospheric anomaly."

"Then some yahoo passenger," Gary took over, "picked up the intercom and called the flight deck." There was polite laughter in the surrounding crowd.

Paul Granger resumed. "I had no idea how serious the condition was in the cabin until you picked up that phone. Jesus, Joel, I nearly had a heart attack when you told me all three flight attendants were down."

"You did come through that door pretty quick," Joel nodded. Another polite laugher.

"And Joel," Gary added, "we wouldn't have known for thirty minutes, or more, that there was anything wrong back there. We weren't expecting any communications with the cabin crew until we started our approach into Boston. If you hadn't picked up that phone ..." He let the sentence finish itself.

"Joel," Paul Granger took over, "I have to be honest, I thought you were some psycho pervert when you told me all the women were down." A big laugh rose from the crowd. "No, seriously, you provided concise, accurate reports on the status of the passengers and crew. You cleared the aisle without me even asking you. You deputized two teams, supervised by a doctor, to carefully return all the sleeping people to their seats. You bandaged up Melissa. Doctors tell me she most certainly would have died without your immediate attention and your Heimlich thing."

"Without you," Paul continued, "Gary or I would have had to go back there. And like Gary said, we wouldn't have noticed anything wrong until just before landing. By then it would have been too late to do any of the things you did. And trust me when I say, safely landing an aircraft after you've declared an emergency uses up both pilots in the best of circumstances. Your actions, your tone, and your concise briefings gave me confidence you had things under control." Everyone was quiet when Paul took a breath. "More than that, when the EMTs came on board, you told them that Melissa and ... and ..." he paused.

"Claire," one the flight attendant with the cast on her arm chimed in.

"Right, Claire required spine boards. You also told the EMT the status of the female passengers, and because of your quick thinking, the CDC immediately quarantined the whole plane." Paul paused, and then said with the authority of an airline captain, "Joel, more than just Melisa, here," he gestured to the flight attendant standing nearby, "you saved lives." The small crowd burst into loud applause. Joel was wholly unaccustomed for any praise for a job well done, let alone such high praise. He smiled sheepishly.

"So, I have a flying question for you," Joel asked after the hubbub died down. "After you declared your emergency, I saw the spoilers go up. I thought those were only used in landing."

"No," Granger replied, "we can use them to reduce altitude, speed, or both. Gary wrenched them up pretty hard, there. That's a good way to bleed off altitude in a hurry without putting the aircraft into a nosedive. It was the right call." Joel noticed how Paul complimented Gary's professionalism.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a woman called from the door, "may I have your attention please." All went quiet. She was mid height – about five foot six. She had long, brown wavy hair and a long face with a pointy chin. She had hauntingly beautiful pastel blue eyes. Joel guessed she was in her mid-thirties. She wore black dress pants and a patterned blouse with autumn colored leaves. She looked slim and fit.

The man beside her started to talk. He was tall and thin with distinguished grey hair, probably in his early sixties. He had square wire rim glasses open across the top. His suit looked like it cost more than Joel's entire wardrobe. He reeked executive. "For those of who you do not know me, my name is Jack Miller. I'm president of American Airlines."

Holy shit! This is big.

"I just want to say a few words about the upcoming press conference. First, you may not answer any questions, or comment on the ongoing NTSB investigation. Lisa Buchannon," he gestured to the woman standing beside him, who called everyone to attention, "will be steering questions for you, and she'll jump in if you stray off the reservation. Please respect her guidance."

"Second, after conferring with various government organizations, we have been asked, and I agree, to offer no speculation, guesses, thoughts, or ideas about what struck the aircraft. We don't doubt that something unusual intercepted the aircraft, but we don't know its nature or origin. The press are going to pester you endlessly to speculate. Don't."

"Third, stick to the facts. Don't offer opinions. Most of you already know this, but Mister Winkman," President Miller looked right at Joel, "this is new to you. That is why you will be seated beside Lisa Buchannon. She will jump in for you, and coach you if needed. Please follow her lead."

"Okay," Joel croaked unevenly. There was mild sympathetic laughter in the crowd for his performance anxiety.

"Finally, I want to tell you all how proud I am that we are blessed with such a high performing crew who brought one hundred and three passengers and crew safely to the ground after encountering such a unique and harrowing ordeal. I want to extend my thanks and congratulations to Paul Granger and Gary Tallwood for their professionalism and steady calmness. I want to say how proud I am to have Claire Barnes, Heather Carson, and Melissa Ferry as part of our team, and thank you for your bravery in such difficult times. Finally, I want to thank passenger Joel Winkman for his humanity and alertness." A round of applause broke out. Joel was impressed he rattled all those names off without referring to any notes.

"Remember," Jack Miller concluded after the clapping died down, "you are all ambassadors of American Airlines. I know you will represent this airline with dignity and pride. Thank you."

"Okay," Lisa Buchannon called out, "five minutes, five minutes everyone. Anyone who is not in the press conference, please leave now." A trail of people left the room.

President Miller came over and shook the hands of both pilots, the three flight attendants, leaving Joel to last. "Call my office," he shook Joel's hand, handing him his business card "and we'll set you up with frequent flyer privileges."

"Thanks," Joel smiled. President Miller left, and then the room was empty except for eight people.