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

through tight lips, "Anyone in there?" with a quick gesture toward the
forward lavatory located just behind the cockpit.

Annette glanced at the lavatory door in confusion. "It's empty," she
managed,

but he was already brushing past her to slip inside. His face was pasty.

She heard the lock slide into place, followed immediately by the sound
of vomiting.

Aboard AirBridge Flight 90. 9:44 A.M.

With a late departure behind them, first officer David Gates made the
'flaps up' call as the powerful 737 climbed southbound a thousand feet
above the suburbs of Colorado Springs, soaring into the clear blue sky
with an amazing view of Pike's Peak on his right.

This was David's leg, and he relished the chance to fly the Boeing and
revel in the feel of her-yet a corner of his consciousness was working
on the problem of what in the world had been going on with the captain
back at the gate.

"Roger,

flaps up," Ken Wolfe repeated. "I'm setting speed two-ten knots,

and level change."

Even his voice sounded different now. Not exactly carefree, but calm and
collected, where he'd sounded haunted and distracted just minutes
before.

Why?

Just because a national figure had come on board?

But Gates just couldn't get the captain's sudden trip to the lay out of
his mind. Departure time had come and gone, but the captain had remained
inside. David had left his seat then and tapped on the lavatory door to
ask if everything was all right. The captain's pained voice from within
had been really unsettling--more of an agonized whine than a voice.

David was prepared to alert crew scheduling that they might have a sick
pilot to replace when the lay door opened suddenly and Ken Wolfe
emerged, looking strangely fit and serene. He'd smiled at his copilot
and slipped back into the left seat as if nothing had happened. "Are you
okay, Captain?" David had asked.

Wolfe had looked at him, his eyes staring right through the copilot for