StoriesBlog Kate looked where he was pointing. It was a narrow mountain valley with a meadow—rocky and uneven, but maybe, just maybe, long enough if luck was on their side. It was their only option.
“That’s your best bet. Do you want me to handle anything while you focus on flying?”
“Yes. Radio. Tell air traffic control our position and situation. Then get on emergency frequency and broadcast mayday. If we don’t make this landing, at least rescuers will know where to look.”
Kate grabbed the radio handset. Her voice was calm and clear, falling instantly into the clipped, professional tone of military communications.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is commercial flight 831, Boeing 777, dual-engine failure, attempting emergency landing in a mountain valley approximately 40 miles northwest of Denver. On board 197 souls. Emergency crews, please respond to these coordinates.”
She read off their exact position from the GPS readout.
A voice came back immediately over the static.
“Flight 831, this is Denver center. We copy your mayday. Emergency services are being dispatched. What is your status?”
“We are attempting a deadstick landing in unsuitable terrain. Altitude 2,000 feet and descending. Passengers are braced for impact.”
Then another voice cut in on the emergency frequency. A different voice—military, sharp, and confident.
“Flight 831. This is Viper Lead of two F-22 Raptors on a training exercise in your area. We have visual on your aircraft. Say your current situation.”
Kate’s heart jumped in her chest. Fighter jets. Her people.
“Viper Lead, this is Flight 831. We have dual-engine failure, no thrust, attempting emergency landing. We are gliding with approximately one minute until touchdown.”
Captain Sullivan was wrestling with the controls, trying to line up on the narrow valley. The plane was descending fast—too fast. They were going to overshoot the meadow or come in too steep. Kate could see it happening.
She grabbed the captain’s shoulder firmly.
“You’re too high and too fast. You need to increase drag. Full flaps, full spoilers, gear down. Everything you’ve got to slow us down.”
The captain nodded, understanding instantly.
“Tom, deploy everything.”
The first officer pulled levers and pushed buttons with rapid-fire speed. Flaps extended fully. Spoilers rose on the wings to disrupt the airflow. Landing gear dropped down with a heavy thud. The plane shuddered as air resistance increased dramatically. The descent rate accelerated, but their forward speed finally began to bleed off. It might just be enough.
The F-22 pilot’s voice came back.
“Flight 831. We are following your descent. Be advised, you are approaching mountainous terrain. Recommend immediate—”
He stopped mid-sentence. They could all see it was too late for recommendations. The landing was happening right now, whether anyone was ready or not. Kate moved behind the captain’s seat, bracing herself against the bulkhead but keeping her eyes on the approaching ground. The valley was rushing up at them with terrifying speed. Rocky terrain, scattered trees, uneven ground. This was going to be rough. Really rough.
“Brace! Brace! Brace!” Captain Sullivan shouted into the cabin intercom.
Kate grabbed onto the back of his seat with both hands, her muscles tensed for impact. The wheels hit first, slamming into the rocky ground with tremendous force. The landing gear absorbed some of the shock but immediately collapsed under the strain.
The belly of the plane scraped the ground with a horrible, deafening screech of metal tearing against rock. The aircraft bounced, hit again, and skidded sideways. Trees appeared ahead, and the wing clipped them, tearing off with an explosion of debris and dust. The plane spun, still sliding forward, throwing up a curtain of dirt and rocks.
Kate was thrown against the wall, her shoulder hitting hard against the metal. Pain shot through her body, but she held on. The cockpit was shaking violently. Everything was noise and chaos. The windscreen cracked into a spiderweb of fractures. Alarms were blaring incessantly. The pilots were fighting the controls, but the plane was no longer really flying; it was just crashing in slow motion.
Finally, after what felt like forever but was probably only 15 seconds, the aircraft came to a grinding stop. The horrible screeching sound ended. For a moment, there was just stunned silence and the relentless sound of alarms.
Captain Sullivan’s hands were shaking uncontrollably on the controls.
“Is everyone okay?”
Kate checked herself. Bruised, battered, but nothing broken.
“I’m okay.”
The first officer nodded, pale but conscious.
“I’m good.”
Then Captain Sullivan seemed to remember the passengers. He grabbed the intercom.
“Evacuate! Everyone evacuate the aircraft now! Use emergency exits. Get away from the plane!”
His voice was hoarse but strong. Kate stood up, wincing at the sharp pain in her shoulder, and wrenched open the cockpit door. The cabin was absolute chaos, but people were moving. Flight attendants were shouting instructions, forcing open emergency exits, and deploying slides.
Passengers were helping each other, stumbling toward the exits. Amazingly, people were alive and moving. The crash landing had been survivable. Kate moved through the cabin, helping people up, pulling passengers to their feet, and directing them toward the nearest exits. Her military training took over completely. Stay calm. Help others. Complete the mission.
An elderly woman was frozen in her seat, too scared to move. Kate took her hand gently but firmly.
“Ma’am, I’ve got you. We’re going to walk together. You’re going to be fine.”
She guided the woman to the exit and helped her down the slide. Outside, passengers were gathering away from the wreckage in the meadow. Some were crying, some were in shock, but they were alive. Kate did a quick headcount. Everyone was getting out. The flight attendants were doing their jobs perfectly, accounting for passengers, treating minor injuries, and keeping people calm.
Then Kate heard it. The sound she knew better than almost anything in the world. The roar of fighter jet engines.
She looked up and saw two F-22 Raptors circling overhead, low and slow, assessing the crash site. Her heart swelled with pride and relief. Her people. Her fellow pilots. They had followed them all the way down and were now providing overwatch.
One of the F-22s broke formation and made a low pass directly over the crash site. Then the pilot’s voice came over the emergency frequency, broadcast loud enough that Kate’s radio, still clipped to her belt from the cockpit, picked it up clearly.
“Flight 831, this is Viper Lead. We have visual on survivors. Count approximately 190 people evacuated from aircraft. Appears all souls survived. Emergency services are inbound. You have about five minutes until first responders arrive. Outstanding flying down there. That was one hell of a landing.”
Kate pulled out the radio and keyed the mic.
“Viper Lead, this is ground. Thank you for the overwatch. All passengers and crew are accounted for. We have minor injuries, but no critical casualties. Please relay to emergency services that we need transport for approximately 197 people.”
There was a pause. Then the F-22 pilot’s voice came back, confused.
“Ground, who is this? Are you military?”
Kate smiled slightly despite the pain and exhaustion.
“Viper Lead, this is Captain Kate Morrison, Air Force, F-22 qualified. I was a passenger on this flight but assisted in the cockpit during the emergency.”
Another, longer pause stretched out. Then the F-22 pilot’s voice came back, and this time there was clear shock in his tone.
“Say again? Did you say Kate Morrison? Call sign Viper?”
“Affirmative, Viper Lead. That’s me.”
“Viper, this is Captain Jake Wilson. We’ve met at Nellis. You instructed my weapons school class two years ago. I can’t believe you’re down there. Are you injured?”
“Negative, Viper Lead. Bruised but operational. Good to hear your voice, Jake. Thanks for following us down.”
The second F-22 pilot cut in, his voice full of respect and amazement.
“Ma’am, this is Viper 2. Did you help land that aircraft?”
“Assisted the commercial pilots. Yes, they did the heavy lifting. I just helped with procedures and radio work.”
Viper Lead came back.
“Ma’am, we’re going to stay on station until help arrives. And Viper, we’re going to tell everyone about this. You saved 185 passengers today. That’s going in the history books.”