The Mystery of Flight 1099

Chapter 1: Abu Dhabi Airport“You know I’m going to miss you,” said Amal. “A lot.” “I can’t wait to come back again,” said Stuart. “I wish I’d planned to stay longer. It’s so beautiful here.” The bus had just pulled up in front of the airport, and Stuart was retrieving his luggage from the cargo hold underneath. His flight back to New York would leave in two hours. Amal looked at Stuart with a wistful expression. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” he whispered. “We had such a good time together.” “Beyond my wildest expectations,” remarked Stuart. “You know, when I agreed to come here to visit you, I did it with quite a bit of trepidation. I knew I’d be okay once I was over here with you, but I was afraid of all the hassles I’d encounter on the trip. It turned out there was nothing to worry about. Everything was fine. There were no problems at all. Hopefully the trip back will be the same.” “Does that mean you’ll come back to see me again? For longer next time?” asked Amal. “Absolutely,” said Stuart. “But how much longer do you want me to stay?” “How about six months?” answered Amal with a grin. “Well, I don’t know about six months.” Stuart laughed. “But definitely for a month or two. Maybe even a bit more. The climate here in the winter sure beats New York.” “Then come for the whole winter,” Amal replied. “We’ll have a ball. Maybe you could teach me how to drive.” That brought a hearty laugh from Stuart. “I don’t know about that, with all the traffic here. Maybe you should stick to your motorcycle. But I suppose we could find a quiet road out in the desert somewhere and give it a try.” Amal smiled. “I’d like that. I’ve always wanted to have a car one day.” “In the meantime, until I come back here, you be careful on that motorcycle. No more accidents.” “That was just a small one, back in Jordan, before I came over here,” said Amal. “But as I recall,” said Stuart, “it scared you a bit and you gave up riding for a while.” “Just for a short time,” replied Amal. “Not for very long.” “All right,” said Stuart. “Just be careful. I want to spend every minute doing the fun things we did together when I come back. I don’t want to be next to your bed in a hospital, nursing you back to health.” “Something you’d be very good at, I’m sure. All right, I promise,” answered Amal. “Just as long as you promise to come back.” “No worries there,” Stuart replied. “I’ll start planning the trip almost as soon as I get home.” “I’ll come into the airport with you and help you find the place to check in for your airline.” “You can do that?” Stuart asked, surprised. “I remember when I flew into Casablanca there were armed guards outside the airport. Once you walked out, they didn’t let you back in. I couldn’t get back in to get the train into the city. I had to take an expensive taxi.” “It’s no problem here,” Amal reassured him. They walked into the terminal unchallenged, and Stuart remembered all the corridors he’d walked down ten days ago, a little lost at the time. Now they all seemed so familiar. Stepping up to the window to check in, the young man waiting on him seemed to have a problem understanding English. He checked Stuart’s reservation several times, then asked to see his phone. After inspecting the same information there, still with the same confused look on his face, he said, “You are too early. Come back in an hour.” “In an hour?” Stuart asked, doubtful. “But my flight leaves in less than two hours.” “You are too early,” the ticket agent repeated. “Come back in an hour.” Stuart turned to Amal. “Does this sound right to you?” “He should know,” replied Amal. “It’s his job. This will give us a bit more time together. Why don’t we go have a coffee?” They walked down the hall to a nearby coffee shop, and Stuart again remembered passing by the place on his arrival. He kept looking at his watch. After about forty-five minutes, he said, “I think we’d better go. I don’t feel comfortable waiting much longer.” They walked back to the airline’s desk and were shocked to find all the windows closed. The last woman was just leaving. Quickly Amal walked up to her just before she exited through a side door and, in Arabic, explained what had happened. She looked at Stuart doubtfully, then asked to see his flight reservation and passport. “Wait here a moment,” she said in perfect English, then went out the side door, taking the paper reservation and Stuart’s passport with her. They waited patiently, Stuart struggling to fight a growing sense of panic. Moments later, a middle-aged man came out and handed Stuart back his reservation and passport. “The flight is boarding now,” he said. “You’d better run.” Giving an astonished Amal only a quick wave instead of the hug that he wanted to give him, Stuart followed the man toward security. * * * * With his bags stowed securely above him, Stuart settled into his seat, buckled his seatbelt and gave it a tug. He quickly sent Amal a text. Made it, just barely. The last five people were getting on the plane as I got to the gate. I had to run all the way barefoot, not even having time to put my shoes back on after going through security. I’ll let you know when I get to New York. He opened the book that he hoped would occupy him for the twelve-hour flight back to New York. It was a long book, and he wanted to finish it. He never seemed to have enough time for reading when he was at home. “Sir, you’ll need to put that book away while we take off,” said the flight attendant, a good-looking young man in his late twenties. “No problem,” said Stuart. He stuffed the book into the seat next to him. The flight attendants assumed their usual position for the safety talk. Even though he’d been through this numerous times, Stuart tried to listen, knowing it was important. At the very least, he always made note of where the emergency exits were, both ahead and behind him, and he always checked under the seat for the emergency life preserver, figuring he’d be glad he did if he needed it in trying circumstances. And the safety talk always ended with the same sentence. Listen for the words, “brace, brace, brace.” The plane raced down the runway, lifting off into the bright blue sky. Stuart watched as the waters of the Persian Gulf fell away beneath him. He smiled as he thought of all the days he’d spent swimming in those waters, marveling at how warm they already were in March. It would be months before the Long Island beaches back in New York were warm enough for swimming. He settled back into his seat and opened his book. Soon he was completely focused on it, the sounds of the flight attendants working in the galley a few rows behind him barely registering. He was glad he’d brought the book, as he never liked the in-flight movies. Maybe he would even doze off a little, something he always found hard to do when he was flying. Suddenly the plane lurched sharply to the left, accompanied by the sound of things dropping to the floor in the galley. Looking out the window on his right, Stuart saw something had streaked by just beneath the plane’s wing, leaving a plume of white behind it. Then the aircraft shook as something struck its left wing. There was a shout from a passenger near the back of the plane. “One of the engines is on fire!” All eyes turned to the left to see the bright flames completely obscuring the engine, and a huge cloud of dense, black smoke trailing out behind it. Then, just as suddenly, the flames and black smoke disappeared as the engine dropped off the wing into the waters far below. The nose of the plane pointed down as it began its descent. Amid the screams of the passengers and the sounds of more things dropping in the galley, Stuart looked out the window as the waves in the Persian Gulf, shimmering in the sunshine, came closer and closer. He thought about how he’d never see home again, and of how he’d never see Amal again. And he thought about how he wished he’d missed this flight. There was no time to think of anything else in the few moments that were left. It was then that he heard the words over the plane’s speaker system: brace, brace, brace.