Category Archives: Writing

I’m well beyond the halfway point on my current work-in-progress, The Globe, and I hope to have the completed manuscript shipped out to my agent early this Summer.  After that, it’s on to the resurrection of three of my previous novels—The Ian Drake Series—for publication in both Kindle and Nook format.  Ian Drake is a aircraft sabotage investigator working for the U.S. government, and these stories take place from 1996 to 2000.  First in this series of thrillers is An On-Time Departure, which involves the sabotage of a passenger-laden DC-10 that crashes in the Swiss Alps near Interlaken.

What follows is Chapter One.  I hope you enjoy the sample.  If you do, remember that the full novel will be available later this year.

Summer, 1996

Drake’s Paradox of Air Fares states:  “First class passengers pay extra for the privilege of being first to arrive at the scene of the crash.”  A corollary to Drake’s Paradox is that business class passengers pay slightly less to arrive second.

Don Brekke’s employer wouldn’t cover the cost of business class travel, so he had decided to spring for the upgrade out of his own pocket.  It was well worth the two-hundred dollars to avoid being shoehorned into the back of the plane.  He hated flying steerage.

Besides, he deserved this bit of extravagant self-indulgence.  He had spent the last two weeks watching the ‘professionals’ at work.  If, as is frequently quoted, one should not watch too closely what goes into making laws or sausages, then one should avoid diplomacy even more ardently, as even the final product often proves unpalatable—definitely not for the faint of heart.  The relative quiet and solitude that nearly five hours in business class promised proved irresistible to him.  Now, over an hour into the flight, it was time to quit work on his report.  The fatigue of the past two weeks had taken its toll.

The government laptop computer fit on the table with room to spare, a vast improvement over the postage stamp-sized trays with which those in budget-class had to contend.  On the laptop’s hard drive was a partition unreadable to prying eyes.  The data it contained was scrambled using a commercial version of the Pentagon’s latest Data Encyrption Standard.  That data would remain useless without Don’s chosen password.

The State guidelines for choosing the encryption password were relatively straightforward.  Don’t use easily guessed personal data, such as phone numbers, names of friends and relatives, their birthdays, and the like.  Don’t choose a password that is too easily forgotten.  Choose one that’s at least eight characters long and, preferably, one that is not a single word.  Don was confident that his password would stymie the brightest cryptographers alive.  If something were to happen to his computer, he was certain that the data would remain forever irretrievable.

He prepared to power down the computer when, as an afterthought, he decided to backup the report.  He copied the encrypted file to a 3½ inch diskette, opting not to change the password.  Encrypting the same file with two different passwords doubled the chances someone might make a lucky guess.  With the file safely duplicated, he powered off the laptop and removed the blue diskette.  After inserting it into a protective plastic carrier, he placed it in the breast pocket of his distinctively tailored gray-plaid suit.  He slipped the computer into its expensive brown leather case, then stowed it under the seat in front.

A glimpse at the watch on his left wrist indicated it was nearly 7:00 a.m. at his destination.  He had set it to Paris time just after boarding the DC-10 in Cairo.  AeroAtlantic Flight 1170 had, uncharacteristically, pushed back from the gate on time.  The past month, because of the labor strike, it routinely departed two to three hours late.  The four-hour, forty minute flight would put them into Charles de Gaulle about 10:30 a.m.  From there to the American Embassy at 2 Avenue Gabriel, just off the Place de la Concorde, could take up to ninety minutes by embassy car, depending on the traffic.  Yes, a three-hour nap now would certainly pay dividends later, during the long day of debriefings.  He knew that he faced many questions about the apparently miraculous breakthrough in negotiations, even though he had few answers about the sudden, unexpected change of heart.

He took off his jacket and tucked it under his chin, draping the shoulders over his crossed arms.  “Rather cool in here,” he said to himself silently.  He reclined the seat.  His eyes gently closed as the anticipation of finally returning home came to him.  Two weeks was much too long away from Becki.  Don had talked to her and their two daughters on the telephone the night before.  They couldn’t wait for the family vacation he had promised.  They all felt the need to get away and rejuvenate the family unit.  Three days at EuroDisney was just what they all needed.  Just have to find someone to take care of George and Hampton, he thought.  Getting the basset and the hamster had been Becki’s idea.  They were supposed to teach the girls responsibility, but it always seemed to fall on Don to find a pet-sitter for them.  He would check with everyone at the office when he arrived.  For now, an overwhelming sense of fatigue flooded over him.  He drifted into a restless sleep….

* * *

Don awoke to the flight attendant asking the woman in the seat next to him if she would like another bourbon and Coke.  The dry thirst in the throat one gets from breathing arid, conditioned cabin air nagged at him.  “Some water sure would taste good,” he thought aloud.

The pretty, dark-haired attendant smiled at him.  He glanced up and observed the gentle, floating movement of the contacts in her soft brown eyes.  He was very observant by nature and prided himself on catching even the smallest of details.  His powers of observation continually amazed his friends and colleagues.

“Evian okay?” she asked.

He nodded appreciatively, a sheepish grin creasing the right corner of his mouth.

The flight attendant turned and started up the aisle when several things happened in rapid, blinding succession.  A loud bang and a muffled roar came from behind.  The cabin’s visibility suddenly obscured to only a few feet as dust and debris were sucked into the air. A thick, eerie fog appeared from nowhere.  He felt his eardrums expanding from the sudden depressurization.  The pain was excruciating and his mouth opened in a wide yawn in a futile attempt to equalize the pressure in his head.  He watched in horror as the flight attendant suddenly accelerated rearward, her feet nearly horizontal behind her levitated body.  The overhead baggage compartments burst open.  Ceiling panels seemed to explode from the cabin roof.  Every loose item forward of his seat lifted into the air and seemed to come straight toward his head.

He ducked down and turned to his left, watching in utter amazement as a loose metal strip sliced neatly into the soft, sculptured throat of the woman next to him.  The image of her wide, disbelieving eyes and mouth agape in a silent scream burned into his brain.  Her head tilted right and back at a crazy, hideously bizarre angle.  Blood gushed in spurts into the rearward-traveling slipstream of onrushing wind.

In seconds the air exhausted completely from his lungs.  His chest heaved with a sharp, intense pain.  He gasped in vain for air that didn’t exist.  Finally, after an eternity, the compartment in front of the near-decapitated blonde opened up, spilling out three oxygen masks.  He grabbed for one and missed as he started to feel the deliriousness of oxygen deprivation.  His mind fogged as he tried again and again.  Grabbing wildly a forth time, his fingers made contact.  He shoved the mask violently over his mouth and nose.  His breath came in deep, loud, sharp bursts.  Blood ran in streams from ruptured eardrums and sinuses.  His head felt as though it were going to explode.

The fog cleared as quickly as it had appeared, and the hurricane winds subsided.  He relaxed momentarily until a look out the window sent terror surging through him.  The horizon stretched diagonally across the window, from the lower left corner to the upper right.  Fear—stark, raw, overwhelming panic—spread up from his tingling groin and grasped his chest in an iron vise.  Acceleration forces pushed him with ever-increasing strength back into his seat as the descent rate increased.  He looked to his left.  The head of the blonde bent up and over her headrest.  Her face was frozen in a terrible, grotesque grin.  Her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling above.

As the earth raced toward the aircraft, Don instinctively knew they were not going to make it.  His heart pounded in his throat.  His mouth opened.  He screamed over and over again in a short, guttural, raspy series of utterances as complete hysteria took grip.  Then, an indescribably intense pain hammered his chest and tore through the length of his left arm.  He doubled over as his heart suddenly seized from the terror that enveloped him.