Chapter 5 - Emergency Protocols and Descent
Back in the cockpit, Ethan Bennett buckled himself into the left seat, his movements fast and precise. The emotional storm inside him was compartmentalized, locked away by the rigorous demands of his profession. He was no longer just a father; he was the commander of a ninety-ton aircraft moving through space at eight hundred kilometers per hour. His primary duty now was to get that aircraft on the ground safely and as quickly as possible.
"How's she doing?" Marcus asked quietly as Ethan slipped his headset back over his ears.
"Second-degree burns. She's in first class with Rachel," Ethan said, his voice tight. "We need to get down. Now."
"Understand," Marcus said. "I’ve already contacted Denver Center. They’ve given us a direct routing and cleared us down to FL240. We have the speed."
Ethan grabbed the microphone, keying the radio transmitter. "Denver Center, Crescent Pacific 101, declaring a medical emergency. Requesting immediate priority descent and high-speed arrival into Denver. We have an injured child on board with severe second-degree burns requiring immediate EMS response at the gate."
The response from the air traffic controller was instantaneous, the tone shifting from routine monitoring to crisp urgency. "Crescent Pacific 101, Denver Center. Roger your emergency declaration. You are cleared direct to the Denver Airport. Maintain maximum speed. Descend and maintain ten thousand feet. Expect Runway 34-Right. We are notifying Denver EMS now."
"Direct Denver, maximum speed, down to ten thousand, Runway 34-Right, Crescent Pacific 101," Ethan read back, his voice steady as rock.
He pulled back the thrust levers slightly, pitching the nose of the Boeing 737 downward into a steep, controlled descent. The airspeed indicator crept toward the structural limits of the airframe, the wind roaring past the cockpit windows with an intensified, high-pitched scream.
In the first-class cabin, Molly lay across the wide leather seat of 1D, her head resting on a pillow. Rachel sat on the armrest beside her, gently cycling out the cold water compresses, ensuring the burned skin stayed cooled. The initial shock was wearing off, replaced by a dull, throbbing ache that made Molly moan every time the plane encountered a minor ripple in the air.
In the back of the plane, Cynthia Vale sat in absolute isolation. The two passengers who had been in her row had moved to the rear galley, refusing to sit near her. She stared straight ahead, her hands gripping her purse so tightly her knuckles were white. The reality of her situation was beginning to penetrate the dense armor of her entitlement. She wasn't just facing a customer service dispute anymore; she was facing a federal crime.
Ethan keyed the cabin intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the Captain. As you may have realized, we are experiencing a medical emergency on board. We have initiated a high-speed descent into the Denver area. I ask that all passengers remain in their seats with their seatbelts securely fastened. The flight attendants will be preparing the cabin for an early arrival. I appreciate your cooperation and your understanding during this situation."
He released the button. He looked out the windshield as the brown and white peaks of the Rocky Mountains began to rise up from the horizon, jagged and majestic, but today they were simply an obstacle between his daughter and the medical care she desperately needed.
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"Ten miles to the final approach fix," Marcus announced, checking the instruments. "Flaps 1. Speed checks."
"Flaps 1," Ethan repeated. "Let's bring her home, Marcus."
