Cold Steel

by sierra_seven_

Riyadh

Cold Steel
Gulf Air Jet 1-2-Lima
By sierra_seven_

The rain beat down upon the cold tarmac at Heathrow airport. Support staff and aircraft technicians raced around the jet, preparing it for the next flight to Saudi Arabia. Harsh halogen lights flooded the plane, illuminating the busy scene. In exactly one hour, the plane would leave the runway and take to the air, transporting English and Saudi businessmen between the two countries. Alexis Volkov didn't care much for the details, as most of his life consisted of the dreary six-hour flight between Heathrow and Riyadh. He sat underneath the landing gear, sneakily savouring the taste of a cigarette. It was very bad practice, but he would rather smoke here than with all of the crew he had to endure every day. They weren't a bad bunch, but they were mostly Arabic and didn't share his humour or outlook on life.

"Oi! Stub that out, now! We're loading bloody aviation fuel!" shouted one of the support crew, storming over. "What the bloody hell do you think you're playing at? Don't let me catch you doing that again, or I'll report you, I swear."

"Whoa, take it easy man." The pilot reluctantly put the cigarette out, half smoked. "No harm done, eh? I'm just trying to relax a bit before this next miserable flight."

"I could do with one myself, but we've got to follow procedure. Either go in to the smoking zone, or don't do it." The man left irately, and Alexis gave him the two-finger salute behind his back. The cleaners started to leave the jet, taking their catering and cleaning equipment with them. Good. He could finally go inside, out of the storm.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We will be departing as soon as the runway is clear, and we estimate the journey to Riyadh will take about six and a half hours, accounting for weather. The flight is expected to be turbulent, although this should cease once we clear the cloud layer. The temperature on the ground in Riyadh is expected to be..." Alexis' mind drifted as he repeated the same lines he said every day. He saw no reason to explain the headwind patterns over France, but that's what he was paid to say. He didn't argue with the money. "I hope you enjoy this flight with Gulf Air. Thank you." Alexis switched the intercom off, focusing on the rest of the preparations.

Through the rain-swept windscreen, Alexis could make out the last few support crew hurrying back toward the terminal. He couldn't blame them. The weather was miserable and there was no real need to stick around outside. The small cockpit was illuminated by the green glow of the instrument panels, and cast an eerie light. He absently checked the instruments in front of him and tested the multitude of switches above his head.

"Captain, the tower reports we are cleared for takeoff on runway 09R. Do you want me to get started on pre-flights?" asked the co-pilot sitting next to him. Henry Stokes was one of the few crew-members that didn't irritate the hell out of Alexis. Henry was a wiry Englishman who was partial to fast cars and nice women. Both he and Alexis knew from experience that women loved a pilot, even if the autopilot did most of the flying for him.

"The sooner we taxi, the sooner we can get back in the air. Run the checks now, and I'll get the 'trolley dollies' to go through the health and safety. Hell, even a crash would be more fulfilling than doing this goddamn flight back and forth..." Alexis stopped and coughed uneasily. It was bad luck to discuss incidents like that. A plane crash was a serious matter, and nobody wanted to think about such an event. The Flight Technician sat behind them said a quick prayer. An awkward silence ensued.

However, the duo pulled out their pre-flight checklists and began to run through the tests. Most of the switches surrounding them would never be used, but they still had to check them regularly. Behind them, the Flight Engineer got to work recording various pressures and checking gauges. She was in charge of the plane's operation, and knew the systems inside-out.

After a palpable silence, Henry spoke up. "Look Lexus, you can always get transferred. You know Gulf Air wants to increase efficiency, and according to them this is the best way." Henry had nicknamed Alexis 'Lexus' during induction. It was just another indication of his love of automobiles and his poor sense of humor. He was the only pilot that didn't manage to raise a laugh during the induction, despite his multitude of frankly depressing jokes. Alexis didn't reply, instead checking the flaps and stabilisers.

After another few moments Alexis sighed heavily. "Not an option. I know this route like the back of my hand, and my pay reflects that. If I switch route, I need to retrain. And you know how much of a hassle that is. No, I can live doing this. It may not be pretty, but that's what the women are for!" The two pilots laughed heartily.

"You two are unbelievable. Seriously, there's more to life than girls and booze" chided the Flight Technician, Ella Moore. Not Alexis' favourite crew member, but she was reliable. She was also a dedicated Christian, and wasn't overly keen on the two womanising pilots. However, they still worked together as a crew, and as a group of mates.

Mostly.

"Ella, is that gauge in the red?" the co-pilot asked innocently while Alexis stealthily nicked her checklist. She whirled around, double-checking all of the fuel pressure indicators. None were worrying, but she couldn't find the checkboard with the correct levels. After she spent a few seconds searching for it, Alexis tossed it back to her.

"Real mature guys. Seriously, I could have more intelligent conversations with the autopilot." They all laughed, but soon got back to the job at hand.

"Come on, we've got clearance so let's get started." Henry said seriously.

Over the next few minutes, Alexis manoeuvred the aircraft down the taxiway while Henry co-ordinated with ATC and ran pre-flight checks. The raw power of the turbines whined behind them, preparing to propel the 49-ton aircraft into the air. The jet sat at the end of the runway, waiting for another plane to take off.

"Ugh, what the hell is he doing? Reading the paper? They should have been in the air thirty seconds ago!" Alexis grumbled, his anger directed at the lumbering Quantas airliner resting comfortably on the runway. Although it was a short time, flights had to arrive and depart in a very small window, resulting in another jet taxiing up behind them. Eventually the other aircraft glided up the runway and into the stormy sky, leaving the runway clear. They manoeuvred their jet onto the runway.

"Alright, we're clear. ATC gives the go, so let's punch this shit!" laughed Henry. The two turbines behind them howled in agreement, propelling the jet roughly into the sky.

The Buffalo Chief pawed at the ground, snorting loudly. In a few moments their proudest, most sacred tradition would begin. The Stampede. His tribe-mates surrounded him, watching the gigantic animal in awe. Many of the younger buffalo idolised him and would be certain to try and impress him. He snorted again. They were foolish but brave. They would make excellent tribe-members when they were older.

The burning golden sun crested the horizon, signalling the start of their three-day journey. The Chief let out a cry, and galloped forward, leading his tribe. Their trail would lead them through miles of twisting, unruly terrain. It was a challenge, a trial for the younger buffalo and a race for the older ones. It was their most sacred tradition, and he wouldn't let anything obstruct it.

The airliner cruised smoothly through the clear sky. They had flown over the coast of Israel a while ago, and would begin their descent in about half an hour. Flight Technician Moore sat, bored, watching the readouts on her console and playing with her shock of auburn hair. During the stint over the Channel, the jet's autopilot had stopped working, but had come online minutes later. Thankfully they hadn't been grounded, though they had been advised to fly manually for the rest of the journey.

The trouble had started just off the coast of France, when the autopilot failed to correct their course. They promptly shut it off, and contacted the Gulf Air liaison in Paris. A technician had suggested that the GPS was failing to update their course, although it had successfully tracked their progress so far. There had been one small bug that had shown them being sixty miles off-course, but it had corrected itself seconds later. They were still navigating by GPS, but they had their paper maps ready.

"So, what are you lads doing when we stopover?" asked Ella half-arsedly. She knew exactly what, but conversation was conversation.

"Well, it'll take 'em a day or so to check all the wiring and stuff. Can't believe the autopilot went down, that shit never fails." muttered Henry. Alexis had instructed him to take over halfway through the flight, and he wasn't overly happy.

"Oh well. No women, but I'm sure the airport bar will be open. Kill a few hours and a few more brain cells in there, then I'll probably head off to the hotel. Somehow, the thought of the Saudi Arabian nightclub scene depresses me." The pilot shrugged dejectedly.

"Hey, Lexus, you checked our position yet?" asked Henry curiously. They were all anxious about the instrument failures and didn't want to take any chances.

Alexis slid the paper maps onto his lap and cross-referenced their position with that on the GPS. "Damn, the GPS is screwing with us again I think. We're a lot further inland than it's indicating. I'll work out a course correction. Wait, now we're over the coast. What the blo- Back overland. It's shifting too much. I can't figure out our exact location. What the hell is causing all this interference?" Ella looked concernedly over his shoulder.

"If you give me a minute, I can run some signal tests, find out which satell-"

"Attention! This is Riyadh Air Force Base! You are entering restricted airspace! Correct course or measures will be taken to protect the safety of our personnel." squawked a voice angrily over the radio. Alexis just gaped open-mouthedly at the GPS. Their location had shifted by fifty miles in seconds, and their icon was flicking between different locations.

"Riyadh Air Force Base, this is Gulf Air 1-2 Lima. We are experiencing difficulties with our positioning systems, and do not have a heading with which to navigate! Please advise." Alexis was panicking. The Saudis were incredibly strict when it came to airspace restrictions. As in, 'do you reckon we can outrun an air-to-air missile' kind of strict.

Ella leapt from her chair and began fumbling with several switches on her console, glancing at the GPS every few seconds. "Captain, we've lost all signal with the GPS network. I... I think we're being jammed. There's nothing wrong with our end." said Ella disbelievingly. "We've got no signal from any of the GPS networks." The navigational screen was blank, displaying an error message. "There's... I can't do anything. They're going to need to escort us somewhere, I'm not going to be able to fix this." Ella sounded fearful and disappointed. She took pride in her job, and knew the jet better than any technicians, but she could not coax life into the failed navigation computer.

"This is Riyadh Air Force Base. We have a Typhoon on stand-by, you will be escorted to a secure facility. Any attempt to deviate from your assigned course will be met with lethal force. The jet will approach from your East in one mike."

"Gulf Air 1-2 Lima copies all. We'll await direction from the Typhoon jet, incoming from the East in one minute." Alexis affirmed, before switching to the intercom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please. We will shortly be joined by a Royal Saudi Air Force fighter, who is conducting training drills. There is no reason to be alarmed, and we expect to continue our flight after the rendezvous. Please remain seated while the fighter is alongside. On behalf of Gulf Air, I thank you for your cooperation during this matter." He was lying through his teeth, but there was no reason to cause panic.

"Where's that bloody fighter..." Henry asked irately. It had been over two minutes, and there had been no response from the air base or the jet. Their GPS was still dead, and Alexis hadn't been able to narrow down their location.

"Do you want me to run diagnostics on the flight instruments? If the GPS has gone down, I want to check the altimeter." Henry nodded the go-ahead, and she loaded up a small handheld diagnostic display that she promptly attached to the instrument panel.

Another minute passed, and there was no sign of the jet. Ella had confirmed the other instruments were working, and they were preparing to arrange an new course. "Fucking lazy Sau-" Henry was cut off by the scream of a fighter passing above the aircraft by a matter of feet. It rolled over, and stabilised next to the passenger jet's wings. He could imagine the kind of complaints that were being raised by the passengers, and hoped the air stewards could handle it.

The trio awaited a transmission from the radio, but nothing was forthcoming. The fighter remained next to them, unsure of its next move. It looked like the fighter's communications had gone silent, just like theirs.

"Is that the air base, maybe forty kilometers ahead?" asked Ella, peering through the windscreen.

"No, too small, it looks to be an installation, maybe a patrol base or something" Alexis suggested. A large mast-esque tower protruded from the middle of the base. "Hang on, is that a searchlight? Look, blue beam, just coming thr-"

The cockpit lighting and instruments shut down.

"Fuck!" shouted Alexis as the readouts went blank. Worst of all, the sudden silence indicated the shutdown of the only objects keeping them aloft. "Turbines are down! Henry, run through start-up procedures! Ella, just... try and get power back!" The pilot fought to keep the passenger jet level, relying on their speed to maintain lift under the wings.

Screams erupted from the cabin, and a stewardess burst into the cockpit. "What the hell is going on!?!" she demanded, looking fearful.

"Get everyone in their seats, and prepare for an emergency landing. We've lost all power!" No more words were exchanged as the stewardess raced back into the cabin, organising the other stewards. The blue glow in front of them was building, making vision difficult.

"What the fuck are they doing? Those fuckers just wiped out our electronics!" The cockpit was a scene of panic. None of their training had covered what to do in the event of an electro-magnetic pulse, or something similar. Ella was mumbling prayers, desperately trying to re-activate some systems.

"Ella, fuck that! Get strapped in, we're going down. Henry, get the maps out and search for somewhere to land. I reckon we've got a few minutes of lift. And we want to be on the ground before... whatever the fuck that is goes off." No sooner had Flight Technician Moore clipped herself into her seat than a peculiar sound enveloped the cabin. Complete silence. He could see Henry screaming at him, lips flying as he tried to speak. Not even a whisper escaped his lips. The terrible blue light ahead grew, dominating his vision. This was it. He was going to die.

Several seconds later, and the jet was still cruising towards the light. It slowly shifted from blue to green, then to yellow. The colours were so vivid, they hurt his eyes. He didn't dare look away, even for a second. The light was the most beautiful he had ever seen. If he was dying, this was a good way to go. Small motes of light drifted through the airframe, passing through the aluminium skeleton like it didn't exist. They were like small stars, floating indifferently through solid materials. One caught his cheek and he paused. It made him feel happy, complete. Once it floated away, the gravity of the situation struck him again.

A slight roaring sound reached his ears. The sound of air being sucked into a void, something becoming nothing. He fought against the compulsion to watch the display, looking down at the instrument panel. At the speed they were travelling, the plane should be falling apart. Yet there they were, being drawn into the elegant, deadly expanse of nothing. The roaring grew, and the beautiful light shifted to an all-enveloping white glare. It encompassed his vision, his consciousness and his soul. The roaring grew, the light increased. And then, nothing.

Note from the author: Thanks for reading! Hopefully you enjoyed it, and if not thanks for trying it anyway. Please comment! I love comments!

Huge thanks to my team, MyLittlePwny, Cry Havoc (The editors), LeafLock (For the title art) and LightPony (For the advice and support!)