Plane Crash (1)
The next day.
I headed to the airport to catch my flight. Atlanta International Airport was the gateway to the American Southeast, a major hub where planes from all over the world and across the United States came and went.
It was such a huge airport, with so many flights, that the place was packed even on a weekday. After I finished checking in, I headed into the terminal.
I looked down at the ticket in my hand.
Flight BW130. Departure time: 11:34 a.m. Destination: Orlando.
Orlando had Disney World, along with Universal Studios, and it was such a famous tourist destination that there were plenty of family travelers.
Even before boarding, I could already see kids in anime character costumes with headbands on, all of them practically vibrating with excitement at the thought of going somewhere fun.
When boarding began, people formed a long line.
There were elderly couples, men and women who looked like they were traveling together, families with children, neatly dressed businessmen, women with backpacks and headphones, and so on.
Among all those unfamiliar faces, one familiar one stood out to me.
A Black man in his forties.
He was almost two meters tall and looked to weigh at least 120 kilograms. With his shaved head and heavily muscled build, he looked less like an ordinary passenger than a professional wrestler.
When my turn came, I showed my ticket and boarded the plane down the jet bridge. I was making enough money now that I could have flown business class, but I’d deliberately chosen economy.
The flight attendant smiled and said, "I hope you have a pleasant trip."
I smiled back. "Thank you."
Christopher Romu took his seat after boarding and made his way down the aisle. His seat was right beside the left engine.
After he stowed his bag and sat down, his hips were practically wedged into the armrests, and his head rose more than a handspan above the headrest. His knees nearly touched the seat in front of him.
Yeah. This is cramped.
A moment later, an Asian man sat down beside him. With Christopher’s size, their shoulders naturally pressed together.
Christopher gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry. I’m probably making your seat feel pretty tight."
The Asian man smiled. "It’s fine. I’m Han Miru."
"Nice to meet you. I’m Christopher Romu."
After taking a look at him, Christopher asked, "Are you Korean by any chance?"
"Ah! Yes. How did you know?"
"I spent three years in Korea with the U.S. military."
"Really? Thank you for your service."
"Haha! Thank you."
After a few more exchanged words, the two of them quickly warmed up to each other.
"Just call me Chris."
"Understood."
"Come to think of it, you must’ve served too."
"Yes. I completed my full term and got out as an Army sergeant."
"I was in the Air Force."
"Were you a fighter pilot?"
"Haha! No, I worked as a mechanic. I handled fighter jets."
"Oh! I see."
While they chatted cheerfully, the flight attendants closed the overhead bins and checked that everyone had fastened their seat belts.
The plane slowly began taxiing toward the runway.
Then Christopher felt something was off.
Wait. What is that?
Han Miru asked him, "What’s wrong?"
"No, the engine noise sounds a little strange..."
"What? What do you mean?"
Christopher’s expression turned serious. "I think there’s a weird sound coming from the engine."
Han Miru strained to listen to the engine himself, though of course there was no way he could have told anything from that alone.
"Are you sure you didn’t mishear it?"
"No, I can still hear it. They should stop and check it."
Meanwhile, the plane was picking up speed, rolling toward the runway.
Christopher hesitated.
What should I do? Should I tell a flight attendant right now?
He looked around.
A man in a suit, a middle-aged woman reading a magazine, a man and woman who looked like they were on vacation, children messing around in their seats, and more.
If something happened, all of them would be in danger.
I have to tell them!
Just as he made up his mind and started to get up, Han Miru, sitting beside him, unfastened his seat belt first and shot to his feet, shouting, "Excuse me! Excuse me!"
A flight attendant came over and said, "The plane is about to take off. Please take your seat."
"The engine is wrong!"
At his words, not only the flight attendants but the passengers seated nearby all turned to look at him.
Han Miru raised his voice on purpose. "You need to turn this plane around. If we take off like this, it’s dangerous!"
"What are you talking about?"
"I heard a strange noise coming from the engine."
Several flight attendants came over, and one of them ran toward the cockpit.
"There’s nothing wrong with the engine. Please don’t make a scene and sit down."
"I’m telling you, there is something wrong! Stop the plane and check the engine right now."
In the end, even the first officer came rushing out.
"What’s going on?"
The flight attendant explained the situation. "The passenger said he heard a strange noise coming from the engine."
Han Miru nodded. "Yes. It sounded different from the noise I usually hear."
"Hold on."
At the first officer’s gesture, the surrounding cabin fell silent. He pressed his ear to the window and focused on the engine’s sound. Then he said, "What exactly is supposed to be strange about it?"
"I’ve flown more than ten times by now, and I’ve never heard a sound like that before. There has to be something wrong."
The first officer answered calmly. "I’ve been flying for thirteen years, and that’s the same sound I always hear. There’s clearly nothing wrong."
"I’m telling you, it’s strange."
"If there’s a problem with the engine, the warning light will come on. This plane is safe, so please take your seat."
"Are you ignoring a passenger right now? I’m telling you, you can’t take off like this."
Someone nearby finally snapped and chimed in.
"Hey!"
"Cut it out already."
"What do you think you’re doing?"
"You’re making everyone else suffer."
"What are we supposed to do if this flight can’t leave?"
Since it was a flight to Orlando, there were a lot of families on board. As the commotion grew, a few children started crying.
"I’m not the only one who thinks that!"
"Then who else thinks so?"
Han Miru quickly pointed to the Black man sitting by the window. "He does! He said there was something strange about the engine! Chris! Tell them I’m right!"
The flight attendants and passengers all turned to Christopher at once, and he panicked.
No, why are you dragging me into this?
Of course, he had been the first one to say there might be a problem. If Han Miru hadn’t spoken up first, Christopher would have said something himself.
But after the first officer insisted there was nothing wrong, Christopher no longer felt certain.
"Chris clearly said something was wrong! That man is a former Air Force mechanic who also served with the U.S. military in Korea. He’s one of the best aircraft experts in America!"
That only made Christopher flustered.
No, I’m not that kind of expert!
Besides, his specialty was fighter jet maintenance, which was a little different.
"I was convinced because I trusted Chris. Are you really going to say you don’t trust what he says?"
The first officer asked, "Is that true?"
Christopher broke out in a cold sweat. "Well, there was a slight strange sound..."
"See? He’s saying there was a strange sound too! He told you to stop and check it!"
At that, Christopher waved both hands. "No, no, when did I say that?"
At this rate, they’ll think I told him to do it!
Han Miru shouted even louder. "Turn the plane around right now!"
"How exactly am I supposed to turn it around?"
"Can’t you back up?"
The passengers’ criticism only grew harsher.
"Hey, you bastard!"
"Cut it out, you lunatic!"
"What the hell are you doing when everyone’s in a hurry?"
"Arrest this guy!"
"Waaah!"
As one child started crying, the sound of crying spread here and there through the cabin.
But Han Miru didn’t budge an inch. "If you won’t check the engine, then I’ll get off myself."
The flight attendant warned him, "If we turn back because of this, you could be arrested and punished for causing a disturbance onboard."
In Korea, incidents like that on planes were often brushed off, but America was different. The punishment would be bad enough on its own, and he might even be deported and banned from entering the country again.
But...
Han Miru didn’t care and said coolly, "I don’t care. Turn this plane around right now. I can’t stay on this flight. I’m telling you, the engine noise is wrong. Arrest me if you want, punish me if you want, but I’m getting off."
Mark Phillips, a Democratic U.S. senator from Georgia, threw himself into his legislative work with real passion and was loved not only by Georgia residents but by many people across the country.
It was easy to think of politicians as people with easy jobs, but in reality they were so busy that they could barely tell where the day had gone. On top of that, he had to spend so much time in Washington D.C. that he hardly ever got to see his family.
Fortunately, he’d finally managed to get a vacation after a long stretch of work, and he was going to Orlando with his family, just as they had long ago promised themselves they would.
Beside him sat his lovely wife and their two daughters, who had inherited her looks almost perfectly. They were twenty-three and twenty-five years old.
His two smart, beautiful daughters were practically his pride and joy.
His eldest daughter, Elena, said teasingly, "I can barely even remember the last time we took a family trip."
His younger daughter, Liana, pouted. "We’re finally going to Disney World. How are you only now keeping a promise you made to a twelve-year-old?"
"Haha..."
"Last time, you canceled because something came up, so Mom and I went to Hawaii by ourselves. Is it really okay for a politician to keep breaking promises like that?"
He was a good senator, but as a husband and father, he was a failure.
He had no excuse whatsoever, but Senator Phillips still tried to defend himself.
"No, that was because a shooting happened out of nowhere at the time..."
"Before that, you said you couldn’t come because of a wildfire."
"Well..."
His wife took his hand and said, "Do you know how much the kids were looking forward to traveling with their dad?"
He gave an awkward laugh. "Well, I really have nothing to say there. I’ll try to spend more time with the family from now on."
Liana lifted her chin at him. "I’ll be watching."
Suddenly, Mark Phillips thought he might be the happiest man in the world.
The reason he was able to do political work at all was because of his family’s support. To him, his family was everything.
The passenger sitting in front of him turned around and spoke to him carefully. "I’m a fan of yours, Senator. If it’s not too much trouble, could I ask for your autograph?"
Then Liana asked him as if testing him, "Do you like blue or red?"
"Blue."
"Then donkey or elephant?"
"Definitely donkey."
"Good. Give me the paper."
Liana took the paper and handed it to her father.
Once one passenger got an autograph, the others nearby eagerly held out their own papers as well.
Liana told them, "Line up. And please keep supporting the Democratic Party."
"Of course."
"I’ll register as a Democrat right away."
"Senator Phillips is the only one who can stop the Republicans’ tyranny."
"Please make sure the gun-control bill passes."
Senator Phillips happily signed for them and shook hands with each of them. While all that was going on, the plane began moving toward the runway.
Passengers are requested to remain seated with their seat belts fastened until further notice.