Chapter 10 10

Joe found Barbara's address in the Fountains, Colorado phone book.She lived in a small Victorian-Anna-style house with a fine windmill for decoration on the roof. When she answered the door, she said before Jo had time to identify herself, "You came sooner than I expected." "Barbara?" "Let's not talk about that here." "I don't know if you know me—" "I know you, but not here." "Where?" "Is that your car?" "Rented." "Stop it at the next two intersections, wait there, and I'll pick you up." After she finished speaking, she closed the door.

Joe stood on the porch for a moment, considering whether to ring the bell again.He parked the car by the school playground two streets away.Those swings and see-saws were not used on Sundays, or he would have to park elsewhere, because he couldn't bear the silvery laughter of the children.Waiting and waiting, he didn't see any women. I glanced at my watch again, it was ten to ten, it was Pacific time, one hour behind here. In eight hours he had to be back on the West Side of Los Angeles to meet with Demi and Rose. A car was approaching from the south, and Joe saw three people inside.He cautiously swerved to the other side of the car for cover in case they shot at him.But they drove past without even looking at it.A minute later, Barbara arrived in a green Ford.She smelled faintly of bleach and powdered soap.She was probably doing laundry when Joe went to ring the bell.

As they drove south from the school, Jo said, "Miss Barbara, I'm curious—where have you seen my picture?" "Never," she said, "and just call me Barbara." "Well, Barbara... how did you know who I was when you opened the door just now?" "It's been several years since a stranger came to my door, and when you were calling last night, I didn't answer, and you made the phone ring at least thirty times." "Forty tones." "The most stubborn person will give up after twenty rings. When the bell rings and rings, I know you are not stubborn, but unstoppable. So I think you should come soon. "

She was about fifty, wearing faded jeans and a blue striped shirt.A thick head of white hair, well-trimmed but not fashionable.The skin is properly tanned, and the face is full of sincere and trustworthy expressions.Her eyes were direct and candid, and Jo liked the efficiency with which she handled things, and the crisp, confident voice of her voice. "Barbara, who are you afraid of?" "I don't know who they are." "I'll find the answer elsewhere," said Joe. "I'm telling you the truth, Joe. Never mind who they are, but they're more powerful than I expected."

"They manipulated the findings of the safety committee?" "I think the committee is still impartial, but these people ... they have the ability to make certain evidence disappear." "What evidence?" She slammed on the brakes at a red light; she said, "Joe, what is it that made you suspicious again after all this time? Doesn't the whole story sound like it's true?" "The story kept sounding true - until I met the only survivor." She looked at Jo blankly, as if he were speaking a foreign language that baffled her. "Duros," he said.

There was no deceit in Barbara's hazel eyes, but her voice was full of doubts. "Who is she?" "She was on that flight too, and I happened to be there yesterday when she went to visit my wife and children's cemetery." "Impossible, there are no survivors, no one can survive." "She's also on the passenger list." Barbara looked at him without saying a word. "There's a group of very dangerous people coming after her — now me. Maybe the same group of people are trying to put the evidence out," Joe said. The car behind them was honking because the traffic signal had already turned green.As Barbara drove, she reached out to turn down the air volume of the air conditioner. She seemed to feel a little cold.

"No one is going to be alive," she insisted. "You don't know, that's not an ordinary collision. Whether you can survive depends entirely on the angle of the impact and other factors. This time it was a vertical impact with the nose down. It was completely destroyed and there was no salvation." "Nose down? I always thought it fell apart when it rolled over." "Didn't you read the newspaper report?" He shook his head and said, "I have no choice, I can only use my imagination..." "It's not a collision like most crashes," she said emphatically, "it was almost a vertical landing, sort of like the Hopeville incident, a 737 in September 1994." On the way to Pittsburgh, it crashed in Hopewell, and the plane was totally... destroyed. The people on Flight 353 must be... Sorry, Joe, they must have been standing in the center of the bomb blast, An incredible bang..."

"Some of the remains were simply not identifiable." "Blown up with nothing discernible, and the result is... Joe, that's more shocking than you can imagine. Believe me, it's worse than you want to know." He recalled how his family's remains were delivered to him in small boxes, and the accumulated stress of those memories had squeezed him into such a hardened heart. When Joe was finally able to speak again, he said, "I mean, there were a lot of passengers whose bodies weren't found. Those people... died instantly and disappeared." "The vast majority are."

"Perhaps this Douros was not... not blown to pieces. The reason why she disappeared is because she left the scene alone." "Go away from the scene?" "The woman I met was unscathed, and she seemed to have survived the catastrophe without even a scar." She shook her head obstinately. "She lied to you, Jo. You can tell it's a big lie. She wasn't on that plane at all. She's playing a nasty game with you." "I trust her." "why?" "Because it's something I've seen with my own eyes." "whats the matter?"

"I don't think it's right to tell you that knowing these things . got you in trouble." After a moment of silence, she said, "You must have encountered something unusual to keep believing that someone is still alive." "Yes, and it's so weird that you can't even imagine it." "But... I still don't believe it," she said. "Very well, then you'll be much safer." They had left Fountain, Colorado, and beyond the suburbs, the countryside was becoming more and more distinct.I saw the plateau in the east gradually shrinking into barren flat land, while the fields and woods in the west gradually appeared at the foot of the misty mountains.

"Aren't you driving aimlessly?" "If you want to fully understand what I'm about to tell you, these views will help you." She glanced at Jo, concern evident in her eyes. "You think you can handle it, Joe?" "We're going...there." "Yes, if you can control yourself." Joe closed his eyes, trying to suppress the anxiety that was about to move.In his hallucination, he seemed to have heard the shrill engine sound of the 747 plane.The crash site was about three or forty miles west-south of Fountain City, Colorado, and Barbara was going to take him to the prairie where 747 was smashed to pieces. "As long as you can manage—" she said softly.At the same time the car slowed down, and she was pulling the car against the shoulder. "No," he said, "don't stop, let's go, I'm fine. I don't want to miss anything right now." After getting off the highway, I drove into a slippery gravel road, and then quickly turned into a dirt road, with tall poplar trees on both sides, with branches and leaves stretching upwards, like clusters of green flames. As it gets narrower, there are only white pine trees around, and the woods become denser.There were many potholes along the way, and I almost lost my way. Finally, there was a grassland in front of the road, and a holly tree at the end of the grassland. After parking the car, Barbara said, "We'll walk no more than half a mile, and the grass won't be too long." The boundless silence is reminiscent of the solemn ceremony in teaching. Only the sound of breaking branches and pine needles under your feet can slightly break the silence around you. Joe followed Barbara through the shade of towering ancient trees. Although it was broad daylight, the woods were as dark as a monastery corridor, and the air was filled with the fragrance of pine trees and the musty smell of toadstools and rotting leaves. As he walked, a chill, like the severe cold of melting ice and snow, invaded his bones, passed through his flesh, and emerged from his eyebrows, scalp and nape.It was warm, but Joe had a chill down his spine. Finally he saw the end of the row of trees, and outside the last few trees was an open space.Although that forest feels claustrophobic.But at this moment, he is unwilling to abandon this dense green shade and face the facts that are about to unfold in front of him. Trembling, Joe followed Barbara through the last trees and down the hillside to a clearing about three hundred yards from south to north and twice as long from west to east. The wreckage of the plane is long gone, but the grasslands still feel haunted.Winter snow and spring rain heal and relieve the pain of the torn and burned earth, and re-cover the new turf.But the verdant grassland and dots of yellow wildflowers can't hide the most terrible wound of the earth at first - an oval depression. "That's the point of impact," Barbara said. They headed side by side toward the precise spot where the multi-million-pound fuselage roared down from the night sky.Soon Joe fell behind Barbara, and he stood still, his soul tormented on the ground. Barbara looked back at Joe, and held out her hand to him without a word.Joe held tight, and they set off again. When they reached the impact site, Joe saw fire-scorched woods to the north.The location was used by The Post as the backdrop for photos of the crash.The needles of some pine trees had been burned away by the flames, leaving only blackened branches, hanging in rigid geometric shapes against the dark sky. They stopped at the edge of the hollow cave, the bottom of the cave was uneven, and the deepest part was as high as a two-story building.Although the walls of the depression are covered with grass, its bottom is barren. "It hit with such force that it scraped away thousands of years of accumulated topsoil and it also shattered the bedrock beneath the surface," Barbara said. The force of the impact was greater than he had expected. The shocked Joe could only take deep breaths in the face of the dark sky.An eagle flew out of the mist on a mountaintop, flying a line as precise as a latitude on a map.Against the gray-white clouds, its figure was as black as a crow described by Edgar Allan Poe.But when it flew over the brewing storm area, it turned into a white elf and whizzed past. "Flight 353," said Barbara, "was on the right course and no problem when it flew over the Goodland navigation station. That was about a hundred and seventy miles east of Fountain, Colorado. When it was at When it crashed, it was twenty-eight miles off the course. In order to encourage Joe to walk around the edge of the depression with her, Barbara summarized to Joe the details she knew of the 747 from take-off to crash. After the plane left Kennedy Airport in New York, it flew directly to Los Angeles. It is said that its usual flight path should be a little more south than the flight path that night. This is because there was a thunderstorm in the south that day and there was a tornado warning, so the route was temporarily changed.More importantly, the headwind of the northern passage was not as strong as that of the southern one. Taking a route with less resistance can reduce flight time and fuel consumption.In the end, the planning manager of the National Airline Flight Routes assigned the aircraft to fly 146 routes. The plane took off four minutes later than scheduled, and the direct flight to Los Angeles Research Airport will pass through northern Pennsylvania, Cleveland, the south shore of Lake Erie, southern Michigan, Chicago, Davenport, Iowa through Mississippi River, then passes the Lincoln Navigator Station in Nebraska.But Flight 353 corrected its course to the southwest, toward the Goodland Navigation Station in the northwest corner of Kansas. Flight recorders recovered from the wreckage showed the pilot making the appropriate course adjustments from Goodland to the next major forward control point, Blumesha, Colorado.But about a hundred and ten miles after passing the Goodland navigation station, something went wrong.Although 747 did not lose altitude or airspeed, it began to deviate from its assigned course, heading west and southwest, about 7 degrees off course 146. For two minutes, nothing happened.Then the plane's heading suddenly made a three-degree adjustment to the right, as if the pilot knew he was off course.But only three seconds later, a correction was made to turn the nose of the aircraft four degrees to the left. Analyzing all thirty parameters in the flight recorder, it seemed possible to determine that the change in heading was not the result of turning the aircraft, or the result of the fuselage turning. First the tail section swung to the left and the nose to the right, then the tail swung to the right and the nose to the left, gliding in mid-air like a car sliding side to side on a frozen highway. The analysis of the data after the crash also aroused doubts about the sudden change of course caused by the possible use of direction by the driver.But this is unreasonable. Almost all the left and right swings of the aircraft are caused by the movement of the tail rudder, but the pilots of civil aircraft have always avoided using the rudder because they consider the relationship of passengers. A violent swing would cause one-sided acceleration, throwing standing passengers to the floor, splashing food and drink, and panicking the public.Captain Bai Diluo and co-pilot Sun Weite are veterans with 42 years of experience in civil aviation piloting. Whenever the course changes, they will definitely use the ailerons—the hinged flaps at the end of the main wing—to make gentle steering movements.The rudder should only be used if the engine fails during takeoff, or if there is a strong headwind during landing. Flight recorders showed that eight seconds after the initial wobble event, Flight 353 made another sudden change of course by three degrees to the left, followed by an even more violent wobble to the left by seven degrees two seconds later.Both engines were functional and were not responsible for the disaster. When the front half of the fuselage swings sharply to port, the right wing must quickly sweep through the air to gain lift.When the right machine is raised, it forces the port side down.Over the next twenty-two seconds, the aircraft banked and turned at 146 degrees and nose-down at 84 degrees.In that incredibly short time, the plane went from a smooth flight to a deadly roll and finally to the finish. Based on the experience of the captain and co-pilot, he should be able to quickly correct the pendulum movement before the plane rolls over, let alone causing the inevitable crash.Under various speculations, experts believe that the captain must have turned the steering wheel to the right quickly, and must have used a device to return the 747 to level flight. Either a hydraulic system failed, rendering the pilot's efforts in vain, causing China Airlines Flight 353 to dive down at a steep angle.Because all the engines are running, they are planted into the grassland, spraying the soil accumulated for thousands of years like water. The violent impact penetrated the rock plate and shattered the steel sheet of the engine manufactured by the Whitney Company into pieces. The loud noise of the impact shocked the birds perched far away on Pikes Peak. Halfway around the impact crater, Barbara and Joe stopped and looked up at the thunderclouds in the eastern sky.They were not thinking of the storm that was about to form, but of the brief lightning that night a year earlier. Three hours after the crash, a detachment of the investigative team at headquarters left Washington on an FAA plane from National Airport.That night, Pablo's fire department and police soon found out that there were no survivors.They backed away so as not to destroy evidence that would help the NTSB understand what was going on, and they sent officers around the crash site. At dawn, the operation team arrived in Pablo, Colorado, which was closer to the scene of the accident than Fountain.They rendezvoused with the FAA, who by then had obtained the flight recorder and cockpit call recorder. Both devices emit signals that make it easy to locate them, so they can be found quickly even in the dark. "The recorder was sent back to the Washington Security Committee's laboratory." Barbara said: "The steel protective cover was hit quite badly. We hope that these data can still be read." Fire engines, police cars, ambulances, khaki sedans of the federal secret service, the coroner's car, plus cars of people connected to the incident, curious crowd and onlookers lined the road. "It's always a mess," Barbara said. "Many OB vans with satellite dishes, and as soon as we arrived there were nearly a hundred and fifty journalists clamoring for a statement. We had nothing to report at all." Barbara's voice deepened as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Moving the gaze from the clouds to the hollow, Flight 353 is now just a memory deeply engraved on the broken rock. "I'm fine," Joe reassured Barbara, though his voice was a little choked up, "go on, I want to know what's going on." Barbara paused for a moment, trying to figure out how much to tell Joe the truth. "When I arrived with the operations team," she said, "the first impression was always the smell, the stench that I will never forget. Jet fuel, smoldering polyethylene and plastic, insulation The smell of burnt, melted rubber, and... Charred flesh, excrement from corpses and toilets..." Joe forced his eyes to stay in the pit, because he had to come out of here with new powers that would enable him to fight good against evil, no matter how large his opponents might be. "Usually," Barbara said, "even with the most violent impact, you can find some debris that is big enough for you to recognize it as an airplane at a glance. A wing, a tail, a fuselage frame .Depending on the angle of impact, sometimes you can even find the nose and a nice cockpit." "What about Flight 353?" "The wreckage was in so many pieces that at first glance it was hardly recognizable as an airplane. It looked to us as if a large section of the fuselage was missing. But they were here on the prairie, scattered in pieces on the hillside. In the woods, in every direction. It's all here...the biggest piece is no bigger than a car door. The wreckage I've seen, all I can recognize is part of an engine, and a big piece, no It's bigger than a car door. The wreckage I've seen is instantly recognizable as part of an engine, and a passenger seat." "Is this the worst plane crash you've ever seen?" Joe ask. "I've never seen anything worse than this, only two - including the crash of American Airlines Flight 427 in Hopewell, Pennsylvania in 1994, when I was not on the investigation team long, but I've seen it with my own eyes." "What was the condition of the corpse here when you arrived?" "Joe..." "You said no one survived, why are you so sure?" "You don't want to know why." When their eyes met, Barbara avoided his gaze and turned her face away. "It's all hallucinations working in your dreams, Jo. They consume part of your soul. " "What happened to those bodies?" he insisted. Barbara shook her head as she brushed her white hair back from her forehead with both hands, and put her hands in her pockets again. Joe took a deep breath, exhaled it tremblingly, and repeated the question, "The bodies? I must know everything I can. Any details that might help. If not...they It also keeps me angry. In this day and age, Barbara, you know, I need anger to keep me going." "No body is complete." "All incomplete?" "Yes, none of the connections are nearly complete." "Three hundred and thirty corpses. In the end, the forensic doctor can identify a few... At least some teeth or some parts of the body can be found to determine who they are." His voice was deliberately flat and emotionless, but it was almost a whisper. "I think there should be more than a hundred." "The body is broken, the head is in a different place, and the flesh is bloody." He hit himself hard word by word. "Worse than that, all the energy of the massive impact, released in a split second... most of the wreckage, you wouldn't even recognize it as human. Since blood and toilet paper are highly dangerous diseases, we had to Evacuate, put on biohazardous protective clothing, and return to the scene. All the debris of the wreckage has been numbered and sorted by structural experts before being sent away. Of course, in order to protect them, we set up four disinfection stations along the gravel road. Most of the The wreckage has to be processed there before being sent to the hangar inside Pablo Airport." Joe wanted to prove to himself cruelly that his pain would no longer be stronger than his anger before the matter came to light."It's a lot like putting them in a tree debarker," he said. "Enough, Joe. Knowing too many details won't help you." The grassland was dead silent, like the deepest part of the universe. A few bees flew feebly under the sweltering heat of August, but such a heat wave still couldn't drive away Joe's chill. "The cause of the crash," he asked, "was the failure of the hydraulic system, and all that rudder and roll and roll and stuff?" "You really didn't read the newspaper?" "I can't see it." Barbara said: "Bombs, weather anomalies, and other possible factors have long been ruled out. The team studying the structure of the aircraft has a total of twenty-nine experts. They spent a lot of time in Pablo's hangar. Eight months of studying the wreckage and still can't find a possible cause. They suspected many different factors, and for a while they thought it might be a failure of the engine mounts, or a failure of the thrust reversal mechanism. But in the end they ruled it all out and nothing Probable cause for official identification." "Is this normal?" "Unusual, but sometimes we can't tell. Like the Hopewell crash in '94. In fact, there was another 737 that crashed in '91 as it approached Fountain, Colorado. Everyone on board died. So this matter, we are also very confused. " Jo knew that there was a mystery in what she had just said about "no official probable cause." Then a second thought hit him, "Seven months ago, you took early retirement from the safety committee. That's what Mr. O'Malley told me." "Good guy, O'Malley. He's leading the 'Human Factors' team on this case. But that's been nine months since I retired." "If the fuselage structure team is still inspecting the wreckage eight months after the crash... and the original investigation team leader did not stay to supervise the entire incident, is it a bit..." "Thirty-six tactics are the best policy," she admits. "When everything turns bad, when the evidence suddenly disappears, when I start shouting...they put pressure on me. At first I tried to stay, but I just couldn't They lie to the public as well. I can't do my job and keep it secret. So I choose to get away. I don't feel proud, but I have a hostage in their hands, Joe." "Hostage? Your child?" "Danny, he's twenty years old, he's not a kid anymore. But if I lose him..." "They threatened your son?" Although Sesala is looking at the pothole in front of her, she is looking at a crisis that has not yet happened, not a disaster that has already happened.What she cared about was the safety of one person's life, so she couldn't take care of the sacrifice of three hundred and thirty lives. "It happened two weeks after the crash," she said. "I'm in San Francisco, because Bai Diluo, the captain of Flight 353, lives there. I'm in charge of supervising the investigation of his biographical information to see if I can find Is he mentally ill." "did you find it?" "No, he was a tough guy like a rock. That was also the time when I was under the most pressure to release some evidence of the incident. I lived in a hotel, and I was always the kind of person who woke up easily when I slept. People. At 2:30 in the morning, someone turned on my bedside lamp and put a gun in my face." Over the years, in order to answer the call of the action team at any time, Barbara has developed a habit of waking up at any time when she sleeps.The sound of the desk lamp switch and the harsh light woke her up.She was immediately alert and clear-headed, as she usually is when she wakes up to answer the phone. She almost cried out when she saw the intruder, but she couldn't make a sound.The gunman was about forty years old, with round, sad eyes like a hound, a rosacea from twenty years of drinking, and a greedy mouth.His thick lips had never been closed.As if waiting for the next temptation he couldn't resist - cigarettes, whiskey, snacks or breasts. His voice was soft and sympathetic like an undertaker's, but without glibness.He told Barbara that the pistol was suppressed and that if she yelled he would shoot her through the head. She wanted to ask who he was and what he wanted to do. But I saw him sitting beside her bed, beckoning her to keep quiet. He has no personal vendetta against her, and he says he doesn't have to kill her.Because, if the investigation team leader who investigated the flight 353 incident was murdered at this moment, it would definitely cause a lot of gossip.His perfectionist boss—whoever he is—wouldn't want to be talking about it now. Barbara knew there was a second person in the room, who had been standing in the corner near the bathroom door, and who was on the opposite side of the bed from the shooter. This person is relatively young, with an immature face, but his smile flickers like a snake letter. The older one ripped off Barbara's quilt and asked her to get up very politely. They had a few things to explain to her, and hoped she would listen carefully from beginning to end, because several lives depend on whether she understands and believes what they said. Barbara stood obediently in her nightgown.The younger one went to the table with a cloudy smile, pulled out a chair and placed it against the foot of the bed, and ordered her to sit down. Barbara wondered how on earth they had gotten in, the gate to the corridor locked and chained.Now she sees that the door to the adjoining room - which can be connected to a suite when a guest needs more space - is wide open.But she still couldn't figure it out, because she was sure to lock this door before going to bed. Under the direction of the elder, the young man wrapped Barbara's wrist with tape several times and tied it to the armrest of the high-back chair.Although Barbara was extremely panicked, she still had to obey orders obediently, because she believed that if she resisted, the gunman would shoot her in the face without hesitation. The young man gagged Barbara's mouth tightly and then taped it around her head twice more. She panicked but then calmed down. They didn't stop her nose and suffocate her.If they were going to kill her, she would be finished already. With a strange smile on his face, the young man retreated to the dark place in the corner.The shooter was sitting on the edge of the bed opposite Barbara, their knees were inches apart. He laid the pistol on the crumpled sheets, took a switchblade from his jacket pocket, and opened it. Immediately, Barbara's fear rose, and her breathing became rapid and short, causing her nose to ring.The shooter seemed amused by her, as he took a block of cheese from his jacket pocket, removed the wrapper with a knife, and peeled off the red wax that kept the cheese from melting. Carefully taking the cheese from the sharp knife to his mouth, he told Barbara that he knew where her son Danny lived and worked, and read the addresses of two places.He also knew that Danny and Rebecca had been married for thirteen months and nine days and—he checked his watch and did the math—fifteen hours.He knew that Rebecca was six months pregnant with their first child, a girl, and was going to name her Philly. In order not to hurt Danny and his bride, they hope that Barbara must accept the official statement about the contents of the cockpit call recorder tape in Flight 353-this statement, after discussing with other colleagues At the time, she was dismissed, and she also proved the fallacy of this statement. They also wanted her to forget what she had heard on tape.If she was going to continue to pursue the truth of the matter, and then reveal it to reporters or publicly explain it, then Danny and Rebecca would disappear without a trace.Then in the cellar of a private castle, where there is good sound insulation and various interrogation equipment.They would tie Danny up and let him watch as they killed Rebe and the unborn child.Then they would chop off one of his fingers every day for ten days—an ingenious measure to stop his bleeding, shock, or infection.They're going to keep him alive and awake.On the eleventh and twelfth days, his ears would be cut off, and they had a month of imaginative surgical plans. Every day when they took a part of his body, they would tell Danny that they would release him back to his mother and do no harm to him, as long as Barbara agreed to cooperate with them and keep silent.After all, it is also for the interests of the country, and this matter is related to the country's major defense plan. These words are not entirely true.The part about the national interest is true, at least from their point of view, it is.Although they didn't explain why what Barbara knew would endanger the country; and the part about Danny being released if she cooperates is not true. Because, once she fails to keep her promise, there will be no second chance and she will lose her son forever.They must have lied to Danny and assured him that he would live out his last month in misery.And being so stubborn towards his mother caused him to suffer this extremely painful torture.In the end, in a half-mad state, he would curse his mother, wishing her to go to the eighteenth floor of hell. The gunman went on cutting up the little cheese that was left, putting it into his mouth with the tip of his knife.He assured Barbara that no one -- not the cops, smart feds, or the mighty American military -- could protect Danny and Rebecca forever.The organizations that employ them, he claims, have endless resources and connections that rival the federal government or any government secret service. He told Barbara to nod if she believed. She believed his words without reservation, his shocking voice, vicious threats, every word and every word was full of confidence and superiority.This arrogant guy, wearing the badge of the special service unit, receiving a good salary and bonuses, and having a pension to support him when he gets old, is really a god. He then asked her if she would like to cooperate? Barbara was full of guilt and humiliation, but also nodded with great sincerity. Examining the small piece of pale fish-like cheese on the tip of the knife, he said that he wanted to impress her with the promise of cooperation just now, without risking breaking the promise she had made.They decided that when they were leaving the hotel, he and his partner would take a random hotel employee or guest—a boogie who happened to pass by the door—and shoot him three times, twice in the chest and once in the head. Barbara was petrified. She twisted the muscles of her face and tried to free the tape on her mouth.But it just got tighter and tighter, and even the lips were stuck.The only way she could argue was to plead with them in pained, vague voices.She is not responsible for anyone's death, she has agreed to cooperate, there is no reason to use such cruel methods to deepen her impression. The other party's sad eyes never left her body. The shooter slowly ate his last piece of cheese without saying a word, then wiped the blade with a sheet, closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. He put the cellophane and After collecting the scraps of red wax that had been peeled off, he stood up and threw the rubbish into the wastebasket by the table. The young man walked out of the dark corner, his smile was no longer shifty, but fixed on his face.While Barbara was still behind the duct tape protesting the indiscriminate killing, the gunman walked up to her and slashed the side of her neck with his right palm.Her eyes went dark, and she fell forward, only feeling that the chair slid to one side, and she lost consciousness before her head hit the carpet. For about twenty minutes she dreamed of severed fingers.Encased in a red wax seal.A fragile smile hung on a flushed face.Shattered into strings of pearls, snow-white teeth rolled on the floor.But between the two curved vermilion lips new pearls formed again, and the blue eyes of the choirboy blinked at her.还有一双猎狗似的大眼，像水蛙一般漆黑发亮，她在这双眼里看到的不是自己的影子，而是失去了耳朵，哀号中的丹尼。 当她恢复知觉时，椅子已被扶起，她颓然倒在椅子上。 她用剪刀剪开绕在头上的胶带，小心翼翼地撕去粘在嘴唇上的胶带，还好只破了一点皮。 恢复了自由又能说话了，她发现自己拿着话筒却想不出敢打给谁，只好又将话筒放下。 似乎没有什么理由来警告旅馆经理，说他的员工或是房客正处于险境。那枪手若是真的说到做到，要杀一个无辜的人来加深她的印象，那么他应早已经扣了扳机。 她操着酸痛的脖子，走到和另一个房间相连的门口，推开门检查门的内面，当初那隐藏式的门柱是安装在一片可以移动的铜版上，再用螺丝钉将铜版固定，这样就可以从另一头打开锁。 铜版闪闪发亮，看起来仍是新的。她敢确定，这一定是那两个人，在她住进旅馆之前，用最短的时间安装好的。如果不是暗中进行，就是有旅馆的人在一旁协助。这么说，服务生一定也是被收买或遭到强迫，才会将这个房间分配给她。 芭芭拉不是个酒鬼，但她替自己拿了双份的伏特加和一瓶冰凉的橘子汁。她的手抖得很厉害，好不容易才把两种饮料掺进玻璃杯中，举杯一干而尽，接着又打开第二瓶伏特加，调第二杯鸡尾酒，依样画葫芦，仰起脖子就往嘴里灌——然后冲进浴室全呕了出来。 她觉得污秽不堪，距离天亮已不到一个小时了，她决定好好的洗了个澡。只见她用力的擦洗全身，然后用热水淋，直到皮肤变红，刺痛到无法忍受。虽然她知道更换旅馆于事无补，只要对方想要，随时都可以找到她。看样子她无法在此地多作停留了，于是打好包，天一亮就去结帐。 怎知豪华的大厅塞满了旧金山的警察——穿制服的警官和便衣侦探。从吓坏了的出纳口中，芭芭拉得知，大约凌晨三点，一位客房服务生在厨房的走廊，胸部两枪，头部一枪，当场死亡。 尸体并没有很快被发现，因为，很怪异的，并没有听见枪声。 恐惧像一只隐形的手，在背后推着她向前走。结完帐，芭芭拉叫了一部计程车，到另一家旅馆投宿去了。那是个秋高气爽的一天，旧金山著名的雾从海湾退至金门大桥的前方，从她刚住进的房里，可以很清楚看到这有限的风景。 芭芭拉是一名航空工程师，一名飞行员。她拥有哥伦比亚大学商业行政的硕士学位，她努力工作，成为唯一的女性调查组长，为国家交通安全委员会工作，调查坠机事件。十七年前与丈夫离婚后，她独立抚养丹尼，善尽母职。如今，她一生的心血，似乎都掌握在这个枪手手里。 她取消了白天所有的约会，在门外挂起“请勿打扰”的牌子，拉上窗帘，蜷卧在床上。 她的恐惧终于转化成悲伤，无法自抑地痛哭起来。 为了那不知名的客房服务生而哭，为了丹尼、曹贝卡及尚未出世的菲莉是系在这永远的威胁而哭，为了自己的清白和自尊即将毁于一旦而哭，为了三五三号班机上三百三十条人命而哭，更为了正义沦丧、希望破灭而哭。 一阵狂风刮过草原，卷起枯黄的白杨树叶。像是魔鬼清点灵魂后，弃绝而去。 “我不能让你这么做。我不能让你告诉我记录器上说些什么。这会害了你儿子的。” “乔，这不是为你所做的决定，你从洛杉机打电话来时，我装聋作哑，是因为我怕电话已被永久监听。事实上，我不相信他们觉得有必要监听。因为他们知道，到目前为止，我都是守口如瓶的。” “即使有机会——” “而且我也敢肯定没被跟踪，屋子也没被监视，我注意很久了。当我退出调查，办理提前退休，卖了房子回到科罗拉多喷泉市。他们就把我除名了，我已被他们吓得服服贴贴，他们也知道。” “可是我看你并不服贴。” 她感激地拍拍乔的肩膀，“我重新恢复了一点自我。不管怎样，如果你没被跟踪——” “没有，昨天我就将他们摆脱了。今早没人能跟踪我到洛杉矶机场。” “那么我也认为没人知道我们在这里，也没人知道我告诉了你什么。我唯一的要求，是你绝不能说消息来自于我。” “我绝不会对你做出那种事，但你还是冒了很大的险。” 他担心地说。 “这件事我想了好几个月，每天都生活在恐惧之中，对我来说，最好的方法似乎是——他们也许认为我告诉了丹尼一些事情，所以他知道自己身边险境，他会格外留心的。” "do you have?" “一个字也没说，他们如果知道，那日子要怎么过。” “一定不好过。” “但现在，只要这件事隐瞒一天，丹尼、蕾贝卡、菲莉和我，就得在恐吓之下提心吊胆地过日子。我们唯一的希望，就是有人将它大大地揭发出来。那么我所知道的鸡毛蒜皮事，也就不算什么了。” 暴风雨的云层已不再局限在东方，就像科幻电影“星际大战”里的舰队，那墨黑的雨层，开始分解成头顶上茫茫的白雾。 “要不然，”芭芭拉继续说：“一、两年之后，就算我依然守口如瓶，他们也会为了永绝后患而除掉我。三五三班机事件已是陈年旧闻，没人会把我或丹尼，还有其他一大堆人的死，跟它联想在一起。这些人，不管他们是什么来路…… 会这边制造个车祸，那边放把火。布置个假强盗案，来掩饰谋杀或自杀什么的。 " 乔的脑海里浮现出全身着火的丽莎，倒在地板上的娇琴，还有躺在血泊里的查理，这些噩梦般的幻象。他无法反驳芭芭拉的论点，她也许是对的。 天空乌云密布，雷声隆隆，云朵变成吓人的脸谱，闭着眼，张着嘴，愤怒得无法呼吸。 揭露实情，踏出命运的第一步。芭芭拉说：“飞行记录器和座舱通话记录器在坠机后第二天，东部时间三点钟，被送到华盛顿的实验室。” “你那时还在这里调查。” “没错，明传——他是安全委员会的电子工程师——和几位同事打开记录器。它差不多只有鞋盒般大小，外面有八分之三英寸厚的不锈钢板。他们用特殊的锯子，小心翼翼地切开钢板。这个机器遭到极大的撞击，两端被压缩了四寸，钢板就像纸板一样地起了折皱，有一个角还被撞裂了。” “还能用吗？” “不能，记录器全毁。盒子内部的记忆体是钢制的模组。 包含了录音带，也裂开了。模组内渗进少许水气，但带子尚未全毁。必须经过烘干处理。于是明传和其他几个人，聚集在一间有隔音设备的房间里，从头听起。座舱通话器的内容，截至发生坠机时，一共差不多三小时——“ “他们就不能往前快转至最后的几分钟吗？” “不行，在飞行中，驾驶员先前的一些谈话，似乎不太重要。但或许能提供我们一些线索，以了解飞机在坠毁之前一刻，他们讲的是什么。” “有时我们拿到的带子很完整，但对我们毫无用处。”芭芭拉继续说：“录音效果很差，可能的原因不少，可能是带子老旧受损，也可能麦克风是用手持式，而且功能不佳，加上震动得太厉害，也可能是录音磁头磨损变形了。” “我认为像这么重要的事，他们应该有每日保养和每周更换的维修吧。” “要记住，飞机的失事率不是很高的。他们要考虑成本的花费和时间的延误。不管怎么说，民航事业是人的企业，有哪个企业牵扯到人的时候，还会达到理想标准的。” “你说到要点了。” “这一次则是有好有坏，”她说：“白帝洛和孙维特都截了耳机，附有麦克风的那种，配合头顶的座舱麦克风，共有三个频道可供我们研究。坏的方面，带子不是新的，它已重复录过许多次，磨损得相当严重。更糟的是水气浸入带子，造成部分录音表层的锈蚀。” 芭芭拉从牛仔裤的后口袋，掏出一张被折叠起来的纸，但没立即交给乔。 “明传和其他人发现，带子有些部分非常清晰，但有些部分则尽是沙沙的静电声，非常吵杂，一句话总有四、五个字听不清楚。” “最后一分钟情形如何？” “那是最糟的部分，他们决定带子必须清理一下以恢复旧观，经过电子强化处理后，效果应会比较好。地区调查主管布鲁斯听过整卷带子之后，在东部时间七点一刻打电话给我，告诉我录音的情况，那天正好是复活节。他们晚上休息，早上又开始工作，很沉闷的。” 在他们的头顶上，那只老鹰从东方返巢。在云层反射下依旧是苍白的光影，飞得既直又准。 “当然那一整天，都是教人觉得沉闷的。”芭芭拉说：“我们从丹佛市调来冷冻货柜车来存放从现场收集的遗体。 在我们开始研究飞机的碎片之前得先把它们处置妥当。这通常会开一个协调会，很累人的，因为有太多相关的单位希望处理方式能符合他们的利益，就是这样，所以你得圆融一些，但也要强悍一点才能真正做到不偏不倚。 " “还包括了那些媒体记者。”乔没忘掉自我调侃一番。 “在我被行动小组电话吵醒的前一天晚上，我睡不到三个小时。甚至在从国家机场到帕布罗的飞机上，一路上连打盹的机会都没有。就像个行尸走肉一样，倒在床上时已是午夜时分。但在华盛顿，明传仍在工作着。” “就是那个切开记录器的电子工程师？” 她望着那张从口袋掏出的纸张，“你得先了解明传这个人，他们一家人都是越南移民，西贡沦陷后，他们逃离共党之手，然后遇上海盗、台风，那时他才十岁，所以他很早就知道，生活是不断奋斗的累积，而为了生存和成功，他必须做到百分之一百。” “我有几个朋友也是越南移民，”乔说：“都是种田的，他们工作的辛勤程度，胜过一匹耕作的老马。” “没错，当每个人那晚从实验室回到家，都已经是七点一刻了，他们过了漫长的一天。安全委员会的同仁都很牺牲奉献……但明传做得最多。他没离开，晚餐随便从贩卖机买了点东西果腹。他留下来清洁录音带，直到最后一分钟。将声音数位化后输入电脑，使驾驶员的声音及真正飞机上的声音，与静电等等外来的杂音分离。静电的圆形较特殊，所以电脑可以很容易分辨，将它除去。因为麦克风传送至录音机的信号很强，明传也能在杂乱的讯号中，区分出驾驶员的声音，结果他听到了非常不寻常的……” 她将折叠的纸条递给乔。但接过来，他未将其打开，似乎有点怯于知道内容究竟是些什么。 “华盛顿时间凌晨三点五十分，也就是帕布罗时间一点五十分的时候，明传打电话给我。”芭芭拉说：“我交代过旅馆总机不接任何电话，因为我迫切需要睡眠。但明传靠着他那张嘴说服了总机，我喜欢将所有的会议录下来，当作副本备存。所以我拿录音机靠着话筒录下我自己的拷贝，不需要等明传将清洁好的录音带，差人送过来。明传挂掉电话后，我坐在房间里，反复听着驾驶员之间最后的交谈十二遍之多。然后拿出记事本把它们—一写下。因为有时候，事情用读的比用听的，更会有不同的感觉，眼睛能明察耳朵所漏失的细节。” 乔现在知道他手中拿的是什么东西了。 “明传曾告诉我，他想通知布鲁斯，然后通知委员会的主席与副主席——如果一下无法通知到委员会的五巨头——这样他们每个人就都可亲耳听到录音带的内容。这并不符合标准作业程序，但实在因为此事太怪异，情况更是史无先例。我敢确定明传至少通知了他们其中的一人——虽然他们全都否认听过他的录音带。我们永远也无法证实，因为就在当天早上六点之前，也就是大约在明传与我通电话后两小时，他死于实验室的一场大火。” "Oh my God!" “一场非常猛烈的大火，猛烈得不可思议。” 乔环视草原四周的树丛，看看是否有几张苍白的脸躲在阴暗之处窥伺他们。当他与芭芭拉刚抵达此地时，此处现场让他有一种很秘密的感觉。但此刻他觉得像站在洛杉矶市中心的十字路口一样的暴露和危险。 “我猜那卷从后舱记录器取得的原版录音带，一定在实验室的大火中被毁了。” “没错。”芭芭拉说。 “那处理数位影像的电脑呢？” “也烧成垃圾，没什么可抢救的了。” “但你还有复制的那卷录音带啊！” 她摇摇头，“我去参加早餐会报的时候，将它留在房间里。因为录音带的内容，非常具有爆炸性，所以我不打算立即让小组成员知道。直到我们有充分的时间来思考，我们必须很谨慎的来选择公布的时间和方式。” "why?" “驾驶员已死了，但此事攸关他的名誉。如果他遭受责难，他的家属也就毁了。我们必须十分的确定，如果责任归属是在白帝洛机长，那接着引发的将是几千万甚至几亿美元的过失致死诉讼。我们必须谨慎从事。我的计划是早餐后叫马里到我房间来听带子，只有我们两人。” “欧马里？” “是，他是'人为因素'组的组长。那个时刻，马里的意见对我十分重要。但就在我们用完早餐，谈到实验室的大火，以及可怜的明传之后。我与马里回到房间时，发现我的那卷录音带已变成空白带了。” “被人换了一卷。” “或者根本就是用我的录音机把它统统洗掉了。我猜明传一定又告诉了某个人，说我曾将它录了下来。” “那时你一定知道。” 她点着头说：“事情演变到这个地步，其中必有内鬼。” 她那一头蓬松的白发，就像盘旋在他们上空老鹰头顶的白羽毛似的。在此之前，她看起来不到五十岁。但此刻她忽然间老了许多。 “整桩事情都不对劲，”乔说：“但你不能相信。” “我的一生都在安全委员会，我以身为其中的一份子为荣，到现在仍是如此，乔。他们一个个都是他妈的好人。” “你有告诉马里带子的内容吗？” "Have" “他反应如何？” “我认为是很惊讶，难以相信。” “你把抄写的内容给他看了吗？” 芭芭拉沉默片刻回答。 "No". "why?" “我有所警觉。” “你不相信任何人了。” “火势会那么猛——一定是有助燃物。” “有人纵火。”乔说。 “但除了我之外，没人指出这种可能性。我对实验室失火调查报告的公正性，完全没有信心，完全没有。” “明传的验尸报告怎么说？如果他是被谋杀，而且纵火是为了毁尸灭迹——” “如果真是如此，从明传身体仅余的部分，他们也无法证明，因为实际上他已烧成了灰。他真是个好人，乔。他热爱工作，因为他相信他的所作所为，是为了拯救生命，避免其他坠机事件的发生。我恨死这些家伙了，不论他们是谁。” 就在乔和芭芭拉刚才进入这块空地的入口附近，白松木下有东西在动。一条褐中带紫的影子，一溜烟窜进林荫之中。乔连大气都不敢喘，他斜睨了一眼，但不敢确定看到的是什么。 芭芭拉说：“我认为是只鹿。” "What if not?" “那不管我们是否能结束这次谈话，我们都死定了。”她以一种事实摆明了就会如此的语调整回答。 乔说：“事实上，你的录音带被洗掉了，那什么人最有嫌疑？” “一致的结论是因为我太累了。坠机那晚只睡三个小时，然后第二天晚上被明传吵醒之前，又只睡了几个钟头。可怜的芭芭拉坐着一遍又一遍的听录音带，最后我按错了按钮，你懂吗？不自觉地按到录音的按钮，自己把它洗掉了。”她满脸讥讽的表情说：“你现在知道是怎么发生的了。” “会有这样的机率吗？” “无论如何都不可能。” 乔虽然已将纸条摊开，但还没准备读它。 “当你告诉他们在录音带上听到的事，他们为什么不相信？他们是你的同事，知道你是个负责任的人。” “也许有人相信——但他们不希望相信。也许有人真的归咎于我太疲倦。到帕布罗之前几个星期，因为耳疾把我累个半死，不知道他们会不会体谅我这一点也许有一、两个很明白的表示不喜欢我，但我们又有谁能讨好周围的所有人？ 那绝不会是我，因为太强人所难了。不管怎样，这都是假设性的。因为没了录音带，白帝洛和孙维特之间的交谈就失去了佐证。 " “你什么时候把你抄下的句子拿给别人看的？” “我保留了它，我在等适当的时机和情况再把它提出——最好是在调查出一些细节能够支持我的说辞时。” “因为你抄录的不能算是真正的证据。” “完全正确，当然，总比什么都没有好，总比只靠记忆好。但我得增加一些其他资料来充实内容。然后那两个混帐东西就在旧金山的旅馆里把我叫醒，之后……唉，算了，我已经不是什么捍卫正义的十字军了。” 东边的树林中，两头鹿一前一后的跳出来，是一头雄鹿和一头雌鹿。它们横越过空地的一角，很快地消失在北边的树林里。 乔心中的疑虑未曾稍减，他先前瞥见移动中的影子，一定是这两头鹿。但一定是有什么东西——也许是——惊动了它们，才会从树林中跳出来。他怀疑这个世界上，是否还有会让他觉得安全的地方存在。他知道答案是：“没有”。没有任何角落是安全的，永远也不会有了。 “你怀疑安全委员会里面的谁？明传和你通完电话后又打给了谁？因为那个人可能就是叫他不要张扬，然后安排杀人灭迹的幕后主使者。” “他们都是明传的上司，他有可能打给他们之中的任何一个，他也会听从他们的指示。我认为布鲁斯是不太可能，因为他层级最低。跟我们其他人一样，他也是由基层干起，一路升到今天这个位子。委员会的五巨头是由总统任命经参议院通过的，任期是五年。” “政治酬庸。” “不，事实上，过去几年绝大部分的委员会委员都是公正无私的，他们个个善尽职守，为委员会增了不少光。至于其他的，我们只有忍气吞声了，他们之中的一个，根本就是沐猴而冠。” “现任的主席和副主席人品如何？你说过明传会打电话给他们——假如他没先连络到布鲁斯。” “他们不是你理想中的公仆，主席吴玫心，她是位律师，年轻又充满政治野心，一直希望能出人头地，我看她是不值一文。” “副主席呢？” “巴汉特，纯粹的政治酬庸。他是个老财阀，所以并不需要这份工作。但他喜欢被总统任命，喜欢在宴会上高谈阔论，卖弄他坠机的知识。我看他也好不到哪去。” 乔继续注意着草原四周树林内的动静，但并未有新的发现。在东边遥远的天际，一条银蛇在暴风雨的云层中闪动。 他计算了一下闪电和雷声之间的时差，估计这场雨离他们有五、六里远。 芭芭拉说：“我给你的是那晚手抄下来的影印本，原稿我已藏起来了，天晓得我干嘛这样做，反正我永远用不到它们。” 乔在看与不看之间挣扎着，他可以感觉到在机长与副机长的对话当中，他一定会发现他太太与小孩当时经历另一全新的恐怖过程。 乔终于将注意力集中在第一页上，芭芭拉则从他的肩膀后面，看着他用一根手指指着他正在阅读的行次。 副机长从洗手间回到座位的声音，在他还没戴上附有麦克风的耳机之前，他讲的第一句话是被头顶的座舱麦克风所录下的。 孙维特：到了洛杉矶（此段不清楚），我要去吃好多（此段不清楚），鸡肉饼、沙拉、起司串，还有一大盘面条，直到撑爆为止。那是一家亚美尼亚人开的餐厅，棒透了，你喜不喜欢中东的食物？ （接下来有三秒的静默。） 孙维特：帝洛，有麻烦吗？ （二秒钟的静默。） 孙维特：这是什么？我们是……，帝洛，你将自动驾驶关掉了？ 白帝洛：他们其中一个叫鲍路易博士。 孙维特：什么？ 白帝洛：他们其中一个叫蓝凯斯博士。 孙维特：在MCDOO上的是什么？你正在操作FMC啊，帝洛？（声音中透露着关切。） 乔看不太懂，芭芭拉说：“七四七——四百型客机使用的数位化航空电子，仪表上有六个大荧幕，用来显示各种资料。MCDOO 就是MCDU，也就是多功能控制显示器。两位驾驶员的座位侧面各有一个，而且是相连的。所以任何一位驾驶员输入资料，另一位的显示器都会显示出来。他们控制FMC ，也就是飞行管制电脑。驾驶员将飞行计划输入电脑，经过MCDU的键盘，整个飞行路线，都会由MCDOO 运转而改变。” “所以孙维特从洗手间回来，看见白帝洛正在更改飞行计划，这是不是不太寻常？” “那要看天候，乱流，不可预期的空中交通状况，以及终点站机场的问题……” “但这次是从东岸直接飞到西岸，天气晴朗，每件事很明显的照着计划进行，不是吗？” 芭芭拉点点头说：“对，孙维特一定很奇怪，好端端地为何在更改飞行计划。但我认为他声音中的关切之情，是因为白帝洛没有任何该有的反应，以及他在MCDOO上所看到的一些不寻常的事。有些计划更改了，但实在没道理。” "Which ones?" “就像我先前说的，他们偏离航道七度。” “孙维特在洗手间里感觉不到吗？” “这一切都是在他离开飞行舱时所发生的。而且飞机是以一种缓和的方式逐渐转向，就算他感觉到发生了什么事，但绝没料到变化是如此之大。” “这两位博士是什么人——鲍路易和蓝凯斯？” “没线索，你继续往下看，越来越怪异。” 白帝洛：他们对我做了很不好的事。 孙维特：机长，到底出了什么事？ 白帝洛：他们遭蹋我。 孙维特：嘿！你是不是跟我在一起啊？ 白帝洛：阻止他们。 芭芭拉说：“白帝洛的声音变了，整个过程中，这是很奇怪的地方。当他说'阻止他们'的时候，声音有点颤抖，非常微弱，好象他事实上……不是很痛苦，但精神有点错乱。” 孙维特：机长，从现在起我来接手吧。 白帝洛：我们正在录音吗？ 孙维特：什么？ 白帝洛：叫他们停止伤害我。 孙维特：（忧虑的声音）你是否——白帝洛：我们正在录音吗？ 孙维特：你现在是否好一点——一种像是重击的声音，接着是呻吟