BIBLIOGRAFÍA

Joe Patroni knew that time was running out. He had not started the engines of the Aéreo-Mexican 707 until the last possible moment, so that his men could continue the work of clearing the snow around the plane.

When he realized that he could not wait any longer, he had a final look at the ground around the plane. He did not like what he saw. They needed to work for another 15 minutes, but they simply did not have that time.

He climbed into the plane, and shouted to Ingram: 'Get everybody out of the way! I'm starting the engines.' Men ran out from under the plane.

Snow was still falling, but it was lighter now.

Patroni called again: 'Send someone to help me up here — someone thin! I don't want to make this plane any heavier.'

Through the window he could see Mel's car, and behind it a line of snowploughs and heavy vehicles. When Mel had told him that he might have to push the plane off the runway with these vehicles, Patroni had been shocked. He found it hard to believe that anyone could destroy a fine machine on purpose. It was not that he did not care about the people on board the Golden Argosy, it was just that he loved planes, and could not bear to think that this one would be destroyed.

A young mechanic ran over to the plane. 'What's your name, son?' Patroni asked.

'Rolling, sir.'

Patroni laughed. 'We're trying to get this plane rolling! Perhaps you'll bring us luck!'

'Ready to start,' Ingram called.

Patroni started the engines, number three first, and then four, two and one. The noise grew louder and louder.

'Hold on, son!' Patroni told Rolling.

He increased the power. To their left he could see Mel Bakersfeld's car, and he knew that they had only a few minutes left.

The plane shook, but it did not move. The young mechanic looked worried.

'Come on!' Patroni exclaimed. 'Let's go!' 'Mr Patroni!' Rolling warned,'we can't do it!'

Then the radio message came; 'Joe Patroni on board Aéreo-Mexican. This is Ground Control. We have a message from Mr Bakersfeld: There is no more time. Stop all engines. Repeat — stop all engines.'

Patroni said nothing.

'Mr Patroni!' Rolling shouted. 'Do you hear? We have to stop!'

'Can't hear you,' Patroni shouted. 'Too noisy in here.' There's always more time left than those people in Ground Control will admit, he thought. If only he had a cigar! He needed one badly, but his pocket was empty. Mel Bakersfeld had promised him a box if he could move this plane, he remembered.

He pushed the controls to their limit. The radio seemed to be going mad. All around them lights were flashing.

Suddenly the plane moved forwards. At first it moved slowly.

Then it gained speed, and shot down the runway. Patroni brought it neatly to rest 200 feet from the runway. Three zero was clear and open — and there would be another story to tell about Joe Patroni.

Chapter 39 Landing

Trans America Flight Two, the Golden Argosy, was 10 miles from Lincoln, in cloud, at 1,500 feet.

Anson Harris was back at the controls as they were guided in

my Lincoln Air Traffic Control. Vernon thought that he knew the

"controller's voice, but he could not think who it was.

Just before they landed, Doctor Compagno came to tell them:

'I thought you would like to know, Miss Meighen is doing quite well. If we can get her to hospital quickly, I think she'll live.'

Vernon found it impossible to speak, and it was Anson Harris who said: 'Thank you, doctor. We'll be landing in a few minutes.'

The passengers had been prepared for the landing. Two of the doctors were on either side of Gwen, ready to support her as they landed.

Mrs Quonsett was feeling rather frightened at last, and was holding her neighbour's hand tightly. She was tired. So much had happened to her in the last 24 hours. The captain had thanked her for her help, and had promised her a free first-class trip to New York and back. What a kind and wonderful man he was, she thought. The only thing was - would she be alive to take the free trip?

Judy was still helping her neighbours with their baby. The child was sleeping peacefully, with no idea of the danger it was in.

They were flying at 170 miles an hour. The weight of the plane meant that they would lose speed slowly after touching down on the runway, so that an extremely long runway was necessary for their safety.

Keith Bakersfeld's voice announced: 'Runway three zero is open.'

'Thank heavens!'Vernon said. 'At the very last moment!' 'We're going in low,' Harris said.

Vernon was looking out into the clouds and darkness, trying to see the airport lights. He was thinking of the great danger that they were all in. The landing would be heavy and fast, and there was a chance that the tail of the plane might break off. If it does, he thought, we're all dead. That man who made the bomb — what

a pity he died! I'd like to tear him to pieces with my own hands!

They were coming down at 90 feet a minute. Harris was doing everything perfectly, but Vernon still wished that he could be at the controls. 'You must live, Gwen!' he said softly to himself. He knew that somehow they would find a way through their difficulties.

The plane came out of the clouds, and they could see the runway lights ahead of them.

'Clear to land,' Keith's voice said. 'Good luck, and out.' They sped over the edge of the airfield. To the two pilots, the runway had never looked shorter.

They were above the runway now, and still moving at great speed. They were down, heavily. The end of the runway seemed to be rushing towards them. Beyond it lay snow and darkness.

Then they were slowing down. The darkness came nearer and nearer. The plane stopped, just 3 feet from the end of the runway.