Black Boxes
by
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They drove up to the hangar; Joe was relieved to see armed guards at the entrance. He directed the truck with the damaging piece of evidence to back into the hangar and to the side of the scaffolding that had been erected. After everything had been unloaded, the trucks departed, and the hangar doors were shut. The guards were posted outside. Now there were only the two of them in the hangar. Joe walked over to the main piece with the canvas still covering it. As he untied the rope, Janet watched him intently. The canvas slid down to the floor. "Do you see that six inch hole almost at the center of the piece? Well, look around here at inside of the floor of what used to be an airplane." Janet ducked under a pipe on the scaffold and peered up at the hole. The brilliant lights of the hangar reflected off the bright, jagged edges surrounding the hole. "Oh, my God. A missile hit this plane. But who--how--why?" she stammered. Joe stood there silently, slightly stunned by her confirmation of his fears. He foolishly hoped he was wrong, but when an inexperienced person could see it right away, he had to accept the truth. Somehow, some way, some son of a bitch fired a missile and killed all those innocent civilians. "Janet, we have a phone here in the office that’s been installed with a scrambler. I’ll have to notify the chief in my regional office in San Diego. Then all the decision-making will be up to him. There is nothing more we can do here tonight, so I would appreciate a ride to the Inn." She agreed and Joe went to the office to make the call. The regional office was closed and the call was forwarded to Jack Johnson’s cell phone. Johnson was on his way home when the phone in his car rang. He flipped the switch to speaker and said, "Jack Johnson here." "Hello, Jack. Joe Fixx here. I have a sensitive message for you; can you go to scrambler?" "Sure, Joe." There was an audible click, and Johnson said, "Okay, Joe, go ahead. We’re scrambled." "Jack, the bottom of the fuselage has a hole about six inches in diameter. I have examined it very closely, and there is no doubt that it was made by a missile. Captain James agrees with me. Now what?" There was a long period of silence.
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About the Book
Black Boxes
The antagonists are exiled Libyan terrorists who have purchased an old submarine from the Russians and surface off the coast of Long Island, NY. They bring down a commercial airliner with a surface to air missile in order to extort millions of dollars from the U.S. government. They say they will continue to shoot Airliners down until their demands are met.
Joe Fixx, the chief investigator for the NTSB, and his beautiful protégée, Captain Janet James, on Air Force TDY race against time, high level Washington bureaucracy and the demands of the terrorists to prevent the loss of more life and bring the terrorists to justice.
About the Author
Joe Hawks, the author of Black Boxes, was born in 1932 in Poughkeepsie, New York. As Tom Brokaw says, he is a member of "The Greatest Generation", born at the depths of the depression and faced the Century’s biggest event, World War Two. When the Korean War erupted, he enlisted in the U.S. Marines, serving in the infantry as a heavy machine gunner in a weapons company. When he was discharged in 1954, he found no satisfying work. After a year of trying various jobs, he re-enlisted in the U.S. Air Force. He started with the F-86 and ended his Air Force career with the F-102 fighter interceptor. He had his first ride in an airplane as a young boy. His uncle was in the Pacific flying the B-26 Martin Marauder. He was shot down by Japanese fighter aircraft and crashed into a jungle. He survived the crash and came home to begin flight training toward a commercial license. Naturally, he took Joe with him to the airport at Kingston, NY. He flew a PT-19 and other aircraft of that type. Joe took the stick on many flights. He was bitten by the "flying bug" and has remained so to this day.