"Nance, John J. - The Last Hostage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nance John J)

best feature. He realized with a small start that they were now focused
on him.

"Do we have a problem, Kev? You're looking concerned."

"Ah, I'll check."

He turned to reach for the interphone.

The P.A. system came alive at the same moment with Ken Wolfe's voice.

"Folks, this is the flight deck. You may have noticed a small sideways
motion in the aircraft a minute ago."

The voice was deep and steady and reassuring.

"We decided to temporarily shut down our right engine because of some
indications in the cockpit that may or may not be accurate. Whenever
we're unsure, we err on the side of caution, and that's what I'm doing.

Now, there's nothing to be alarmed about, but we're going to have to
make what we call a precautionary landing at Durango, Colorado, and have
the problem looked at. We'll keep you informed, but in the meantime, I'd
like everyone to stay on the aircraft and in your seats while we're on
the ground. Also please understand that this aircraft can safely fly and
land, and even take off, on one engine, but you wouldn't want us to fly
with this problem without checking it out."-

The end of the P.A. announcement was punctuated by the sound of a half
dozen flight attendant call chimes reverberating through the cabin.

AirBridge Airlines Dispatch Center, Colorado Springs International
Airport. 9:57 A.M.

The dispatcher for AirBridge Flight 90 ended his call to the airport
manager in Durango and sat back trying to define exactly what was
bothering him. In an emergency, captains could decide to divert anywhere
they thought appropriate. But Durango was an odd call.

Flight 90 couldn't have passed the halfway point between the Springs and
Durango at the moment the engine was shut down, so why not return the
passengers to Colorado Springs where they could be rebooked quickly?
Durango was going to be a costly decision.

Verne Garda stood up and unplugged his headset, his eyes on Judy Smith,
the current director of flight control, who was apparently deep in
thought at her desk a few feet away across the crowded dispatch control
room. He moved quietly to her side, wondering if she'd had time to read
the requisite e-mail message on her computer in the midst of watching
over sixty other flights.