Room 9 by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 21

The first thing that needed to be done was to remove John’s body, making sure he was, in fact, dead. CIA agents are thoroughly trained in many areas and were more than able to declare a death. Even if John wasn’t dead, he soon would be, and his body would quickly be transported off-site for incineration. Room 9 would also need cleaning. Whatever surfaces were deeply stained would be sanded down. Any evidence of this incident had to disappear and anyone involved needed to be debriefed and sworn to secrecy in writing with the understanding that revealing what was now classified could result in federal charges.

During this process, the rest of the tour group was retrieved and directed away from the cleanup of room 9 towards a different elevator so as not to witness the gruesome fate of their now deceased friend. Doctor Stewart noticed the confused and fearful on their faces and offered a few calm words.

“Try not to worry, everyone. We’ll find him. This is a pretty big place, and it’s going to take some time.” This did little good to relieve the tension that fear often creates and while Kate’s eyes began to tear up, Kyle started to feel faint as guilt quietly settled in on his conscience. Something told him that his actions may have ended with tragedy, but he didn’t dare reveal that he was the one responsible.

Doctor Stewart forced a smile to his face as he announced where the group was going next.

“Okay, everyone, we have developed an experimental aircraft. It’s sitting in a hanger about a mile away, and I want all of you to see it.” As they exited the elevator, Kate raised a hand.

“Shouldn’t something like this be classified? I mean, if it’s experimental…”

Doctor Stewart interrupted her with assurance that it was designed for high altitude flight and would not be used by the military. Kate, as well as the others, seemed satisfied with his explanation, but still, in the back of their minds, each knew there was something more than what Doctor Stewart was telling them.

Loaded back into the van, Doctor Stewart told the driver to take the group to hanger two. Following this order without question, he began the mile-long drive to NASA’s flight line. Stopping at hanger two, they were met by the research team’s director. Minutes ago, he had received a call from the CIA agents responsible for the containment of the incident about to unfold and would be there momentarily. The teens were not allowed to go into the hangar, but the aircraft would soon be towed out to them. Kate’s mouth dropped open as the aircraft emerged into the midday sun. As a designer, she saw it as a grand thing of beauty – a work of technological art. Beyond this, none of the group had any idea of the reason they were really there.

With Doctor Stewart standing in the background, the director of the project began a brief presentation on the aircraft’s capabilities, designed specifically for high altitude flight near the edge of the mesosphere. At this altitude, sprites, and stars could be easily seen as well as the earth below. The only other person who seemed to be impressed was Ethan, whose eyes lit up as the aircraft's engines began to start, with a loud whine turning into a deafening roar. The project's director signaled the pilot to shut down the engines and again, he turned to the group and explained a few more of the aircraft's features. He spoke for no longer than five minutes then asked the teens if they wanted to see the inside. The response was an overwhelming yes.

Once the hatch was opened, the teens, including Elaine, were shown in and directed to the rows of seats lining both sides of the cabin. Its interior looked more like a private jet, and Ethan guessed that this might be an alternative means of transportation for the President, given the altitude it was capable of. He asked the director about this assumption, but due to the classified nature of the project, he could neither confirm nor deny it. Now, Kate spoke up with a question. “Excuse me, I know this is a stupid question, but would it be okay if we took a ride in this?” The director already knew what the answer would be, having become a willing participant in the creation of one incident meant to hide another. “Well,” he began. “I don't see why not, as long as it's a brief flight.” The group was ecstatic and instinctively fastened their seat-belts. Everyone was excited except for Kyle, who remained uncomfortably quiet throughout the conversation.

The pilot was ordered to exit the aircraft. Its interior design was such that he was able to leave without the teens noticing. Between this and their excitement, the group never suspected that anything was amiss and, assuming the pilot was still in the cockpit, held a great deal of trust in his abilities. The engines began to whine as they spun up to take off speed, and soon the aircraft filled with exuberant teenagers roared down the runway and gracefully rose from the tarmac. It seemed that within seconds, the aircraft had reached thirty thousand feet and was still climbing. Soon, the teens were able to see the curvature of the earth, as well as the division between daylight and the edge of space. All eyes were aimed out of the windows as the teens marveled at the view of what they knew was a once in a lifetime experience.

Back at hanger two, the pilot had already left. He was scheduled to test an aircraft designed for high altitude surveillance and knew nothing of what had been planned for the teens and their chaperone. Meanwhile, in a small room under the hanger, a man dressed in military fatigues sat at a console, gently moving a steering mechanism while staring at a display. Momentarily, another man walked in and stood behind him, studying the images drifting across the screen. Now, one of the CIA agents tapped the remote pilot on the shoulder. “Yes, sir,” the pilot said. He turned slightly to a man dressed in a black suit, wearing sunglasses and displaying the obvious lump under his left arm, denoting the presence of a gun.

“Sergeant,” he began. “You're relieved.”

The Sergeant turned and looked at the agent as if he had lost his mind. “But, I.....”

His words were interrupted by the director, who pointed a thumb toward the door.

The Sergeant, following his orders, put the aircraft on autopilot before rising from his seat. The agent immediately sat and took control of the aircraft, knowing exactly what had to be done. It was all a question of where the target would be.

Moments after taking the aircraft out of autopilot, he was handed a piece of paper displaying two sets of numbers. The agent glanced at them and nodded as they were placed on the console in front of him. Moving the control stick, he gently banked the aircraft left while reducing its altitude. Handing the paper to his well-dressed colleague, he instructed him to enter them into a targeting program. No sooner was this done than the radar displayed the numbers as a heading. The aircraft would now follow an imaginary path to the mark, displaying itself as a flashing green dot.

In the cabin, everyone felt the plane bank. It was a feeling none of them were used to, but they all took a few deep breaths as they tried to steady their nerves. A few moments later, they were, once again, at the windows looking out on the beauty of mother earth. As the plane dropped into heavier air, turbulence began shaking it, causing the teen's teeth to rattle slightly. Panic soon set in. Ethan was the first to express his anxiety. “Guys, something's wrong. No plane should do this. I'm going to talk to the pilot.”

Getting up from his seat, he went to the cockpit door as the plane continued shaking and knocked firmly. With no answer, he continued knocking, then pounding. Still, there was no answer.

“Someone's gotta be in there,” he said.

Now, Chelsea got up from her seat and walking down the aisle also began pounding on the cockpit door. With no answer, they began yelling for the pilot to respond. But their words went unheard. Frustration was quickly building into anger as Ethan began throwing his shoulder into the door.

“God fuckin' damn. I swear I'm going to break this thing down.” The plane continued shaking violently and as Ethan's anger mounted, so too did the force of his shoulder as the door's latch suddenly gave way.

Having flung the door open, Ethan stood in the cockpit. His face had turned a deathly pale as panic overtook his senses. “Guys,” he began. “I think we've got a problem.”

Getting to their feet, everyone went to the door of the cockpit. They saw an array of lights – some flashing, some steady. But the one thing that was absent was a pilot, leaving the controls to drift around on their own. “Jesus Christ,” Chelsea said. “They're flying this remotely.” Panic turned to terror as the group began to wonder if the plane's structure was about to fail. They all had bright futures ahead of them and were looking forward to the challenge of higher education. Now, they felt as though their dreams had evaporated as the plane began to nose down. “There's gotta be something we can do,” Elaine said. “You guys are geniuses. Can't you think of something?”

A silent response flooded the cockpit when Ethan was struck with an idea. It was so simple and with enough strength, they might have a chance to, at least, gain control of the aircraft. “Alright,” Ethan said. “Everyone move back. I got an idea.” Sitting in the pilot's seat, he grabbed the steering mechanism and pulled. At first, the nose of the plane began to come up. Then, it began to fight back, as if someone on the other end was pushing it forward. Ethan pulled back again, but was met with a degree of force greater than his own strength. He sat back in the seat. His muscles ached as his skin broke into a fierce sweat. He had all but given up. “Anybody else got any ideas?” he asked.

Again, silence.

The situation seemed dire and realizing that they were likely out of options, Kate retreated to the arms of her mother and burst into tears. The unavoidable had finally descended upon them, and none of them knew why. Even if Kyle had come forward with the responsibility of ending John's life, it certainly would have been of no use, and decided that revealing this could likely make things worse. He wondered if there were parachutes on-board. But after a few moments of thought, he came to the conclusion that even if there were enough, opening a parachute at this altitude and speed would cause it to shred, and they would die anyway.

Ethan was out of ideas and had personally resolved himself to the reality of his impending death. He sat in the pilot's seat, his mind frozen, insulated from the trauma they were about to dive into. The rest of the group sat on the floor; some crying hysterically, while others rocked back and forth, wide-eyed and catatonic. Their lives brushed away; their deaths relegated to a folder hidden in a vault marked 'classified'. No one would know what happened. Their families, as well as the public, were to be told about a tragic accident that took the lives of five brilliant teenagers, all on their way up in the world. Of course, Elaine's family, like the rest, could look forward to receiving a letter from a little-known agency of the government announcing the loss of their loved one – with condolences, naturally.