UAAG CH90

Inside the spacious and brightly lit conference room, the long table in the center had been removed because it took up too much space. Dozens of investigators sat in the conference room, gazing intently at the projection screen.

Zhuo Huan nodded to Su Fei, and the punk teenager immediately understood, opening the black box data.

“This black box records the data of the right engine, part of the aircraft’s operation data, and the cockpit voice recording.” As he spoke, his hand was already clicking on the data curves.

In an instant, dense, colorful lines appeared on the screen. Everyone gasped, held their breath, and stared wide-eyed at the screen. The crackling sound of keyboard typing was endless.

Zhuo Huan: “Open the cockpit voice recording.”

Su Fei: “Okay.”

Fu Cheng’s fingers slowly tightened. He turned his head imperceptibly to glance at Zhuo Huan, only to see the latter squinting, quickly scanning the flight data on the screen, seeming not to notice his movement. Pursing his lips, Fu Cheng withdrew his gaze. At this moment, a faint hum came from beside him, and he subconsciously turned his head again.

Zhuo Huan looked at him quietly, raised his eyebrows, and opened his palm upward.

A moment of surprise, followed by warmth spreading through his heart. Fu Cheng reached out and held his hand.

Zhuo Huan’s palm was slightly damp and warm. As their skin pressed tightly together, a steady stream of warmth spread from the point of contact. Fu Cheng’s nervous heart relaxed a little. However, before he could relax for a few seconds, a piercing, sharp electronic noise came from the speaker.

Everyone present frowned reflexively. The sound was like nails scratching on glass, causing physiological discomfort.

Zhuo Huan looked up, his tone displeased: “Su Fei?!”

Su Fei felt wronged too: “Can you blame me? This black box is severely damaged, especially the cockpit voice recording; half of it is destroyed. I’ve tried my best to remove the noise caused by these damages, but further repairing the audio track might affect the content of the recording.”

Fu Cheng: “Continue.”

Su Fei continued to play the cockpit voice recording.

The black box of the McFly F485 retains a total of two hours of cockpit voice recording before the crash. It is saved using electronic instruments, automatically overwriting the record every two hours to re-record. The black box repaired by Su Fei recorded a total of one hour and 43 minutes of audio. Based on the audio track curves, they started listening directly from the last fifteen minutes.

This recording was intermittent.

Because it had suffered significant damage.

Amidst the fuzzy and chaotic cockpit recording, Fu Cheng listened for two minutes before finally identifying the two people speaking.

They were the two co-pilots of Rogue 318: William Kridolf and David Koster.

But the sound was too noisy, with various strange noises in the background, making it hard to distinguish which sentence was said by William and which by David. They were both Americans with the same accent, and even their ages were not very different, making it difficult to tell them apart by voice age.

“How is the A set meal today?”

“Trust me, the cheese-baked vegetables in the A set meal are the worst I’ve ever eaten.”

“Haha, have you ever eaten a delicious airplane meal…”

At first, the two co-pilots were chatting about today’s airplane meal. They didn’t know these were the last fifteen minutes of their lives. Their tone was brisk and very relaxed, and they even had time to complain and discuss whether dishes like cheese should be in flight meals.

Everything was incredibly normal.

William and David talked about the airplane meal for a while, then were each silent for a while, doing unknown tasks.

Then, they chatted a bit about the captain they had recently started working with.

“He really is a pitiful man.”

“You’re right.”

Fu Cheng listened quietly, his expression calm. Yet only Zhuo Huan, holding his hand, knew that beneath this young man’s composed appearance, a turbulent sea was surging in his heart. Fu Cheng’s hand couldn’t stop trembling slightly. From the moment he heard that the two pilots in the cockpit were co-pilots and Qi Zhifeng was not there, he felt like a drowning man struggling to the surface, breathing the last breath of air from the brink of death.

Fu Cheng’s palm was covered in sweat.

Rogue 318 was an ultra-long-range transoceanic flight. Such aircraft require at least three pilots on board to rest in shifts.

When the crash occurred, Qi Zhifeng was not in the cockpit; he was resting according to regulations…

He was resting!

This meant the crash had nothing to do with him; it wasn’t his fault!

Relief, release, shame, sadness.

Complex emotions surged into his heart. Fu Cheng closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Just then, a strange, awkward voice came from the speaker: “Damn it, maybe I shouldn’t have drunk that bottle of iced cola before boarding.”

As soon as these words landed, everyone in the conference room was stunned in unison. In the next second, they stared nervously at the speaker emitting the sound. Knowing clearly that it was just a speaker and staring at it wouldn’t change anything, they all did so coincidentally at this moment.

Including Fu Cheng.

Fu Cheng stared fixedly at the speaker, hearing the conversation coming from it.

“What’s wrong, David? Are you not feeling well?”

“I feel a bit unwell, I seem to have diarrhea. I drank a bottle of iced cola before boarding. I knew I shouldn’t have drunk it, but it was too hot.”

“No way, that was hours ago.”

“But I really have diarrhea.”

“Alright, it’s almost time for your shift change with the captain anyway. Why don’t you change shifts now? I’ll contact Ellie for you and ask her to wake the captain. can you hold on a bit longer?”

“It’s okay, I can hold on for a few more minutes, but please be quick.”

Soon, the sweet voice of a stewardess rang from the speaker, but Zhuo Huan’s gaze sharpened, and he quickly said to Su Fei, “Project the right engine data from the last ten minutes onto the screen as well.”

Su Fei: “OK.”

With a flurry of rapid typing, Su Fei quickly projected the data of the aircraft’s right engine onto the big screen. He even thoughtfully aligned and organized the cockpit recording and engine data perfectly by time, down to the second, for easy observation.

Before long, a steady male voice sounded, tone slightly stunned: “Engine power has dropped.”

Zhuo Huan turned his head to glance at Deputy Director Andrew, then continued to look at the big screen.

Lawrance immediately echoed his superior’s words, looking closely: “Yes, from the moment they said ‘I drank a bottle of iced cola before boarding,’ the power of the right engine began to drop at a uniform speed.” Pausing, he realized: “Damn it, they didn’t notice?”

Of course, the two pilots in the cockpit didn’t notice; they were discussing David’s sudden diarrhea.

While contacting the stewardess to wake the captain, William was also observing his companion’s condition. David was even less likely to be in the mood to observe the aircraft instrument panel; his stomach hurt terribly, and he couldn’t help but let out a few groans.

However, listening to their voices, the conference room was dead silent.

After a long while, Old Joseph sighed: “You can’t blame them either. After all, they had set the autopilot long ago. From the current look of it, the flight data shows they shouldn’t have done any special operations. They wouldn’t have expected an anomaly in an aircraft on autopilot. And this is just an anomaly within a controllable range. Look, the alarm didn’t go off, did it?”

Having been a captain and experienced a tragic air crash made Old Joseph more sensitive to the pilots’ operations in air accidents and more understanding of them.

After speaking, Old Joseph looked at Zhuo Huan.

In this conference room, no one understood the McFly F485 better than Zhuo Huan, nor was anyone more qualified to evaluate the aircraft’s autopilot system.

Zhuo Huan’s face was dark as he stared coldly at the flight data curves. He didn’t speak, and no one in the room dared to make a sound. Until Deputy Director Andrew said, “Perhaps it encountered turbulence. The McFly F485 has the most advanced autopilot system available. To ensure the best flight experience for those on board, it will also appropriately adjust the power of the engines on both sides to reduce turbulence.”

Everyone looked at Zhuo Huan, seeking confirmation.

Zhuo Huan continued to look at the big screen. After a few seconds, without turning back to look at Andrew, he said lightly, “He’s right.”

Everyone continued to listen to the cockpit recording.

In the boundless dark night, over the endless ocean, the reduction in power of the aircraft’s right engine was just the beginning. Slowly, for some reason, it began to turn slightly to the right.

In the conference room of the investigation headquarters, gazing at the cold data curves and listening to the rustling noise from the speaker, everyone’s expression was silent, silently waiting for the arrival of the final moment.

However, the two pilots in the cockpit didn’t truly ignore everything.

The complete darkness outside made it impossible for them to discover visually that the plane was turning right. Even with the gravity inside the cabin balancing with the fluid in their inner ears, they didn’t realize their bodies were tilting. Yet, William still noticed the anomaly on the instruments.

“Wait, what is this? Is the plane turning?”

This sound was no less than thunder, awakening everyone.

Due to abdominal pain, David’s voice was somewhat distorted: “Altitude, altitude… only twenty-two thousand feet left.”

William: “What the fuck?! What happened?”

With a click of the door opening, William hurriedly turned back and said, “Captain, come look quickly, what’s going on?”

Fu Cheng held his breath.

What sounded next was Qi Zhifeng’s muffled, powerful voice: “What’s going on?”

William quickly reported the situation.

Qi Zhifeng made a prompt decision: “I’ll control the plane.”

David immediately left the main pilot’s seat, but from the intermittent cockpit recording that followed, everyone heard that the co-pilot, who had been suffering from abdominal pain for minutes, did not leave the cockpit. He stayed in the cockpit, communicating with his companions, trying to control the plane.

In a plane turning right and descending continuously, the co-pilot anxiously flipped through the “Flight Safety Manual,” and the captain took control of the aircraft.

However, the recording did not capture their subsequent words, only ear-piercing electronic static.

On the flight data curve, it could be seen that thirty seconds after Qi Zhifeng took control of the plane, the plane tilted to the right at an angle greater than 45 degrees, and the entire aircraft suddenly fell into a terrifying spiral spin posture.

Fu Cheng, Old Joseph, Lawrance…

All the pilots present, or former pilots, stared fixedly at the aircraft’s data curves. They were praying, hoping the pilots would quickly turn off the aircraft’s autopilot system. This should be the first thing they did.

But they didn’t turn it off.

Qi Zhifeng, William Kridolf, David Koster.

Three excellent pilots, not one of them disengaged the autopilot system and switched to manual control at the first moment.

Almost terrifying flips and intense weightlessness—everything was deeply engraved on those cold data curves.

At this moment, at least everyone present finally knew what had happened the moment Rogue 318 crashed.

From an altitude of twenty thousand feet, they began to experience an earth-shattering rotation. The plane spun rapidly in the air like a drum. People wearing seatbelts probably weren’t thrown out, but those not wearing seatbelts, those in the restrooms, and even the stewardesses preparing food and drinks for passengers, had likely lost their breath in the five minutes before the plane crashed.

Then came the terrifying pressure of at least three Gs.

The living were pressed into their seats, unable to breathe, unable to speak, unable to move.

The immense pressure would cause blood vessels to burst. Those in poor health had likely gone into shock by now, while those in good health were still enduring immense torture. Until five minutes later, the plane crashed heavily into the sea.

Beep—

A harsh busy tone sounded from the speaker; the entire recording had finished playing.

After a long time, Deputy Director Andrew spoke first: “One question. Why did this plane suddenly start to automatically correct its posture in the last half minute, stopping the roll and instead crashing into the sea belly-down?”

He didn’t name names, but everyone knew he was asking Zhuo Huan.

And only Zhuo Huan could answer this question.

Zhuo Huan’s voice was calm: “Because it is a McFly F485. I installed the latest ground collision avoidance system I designed on this aircraft. When the altitude is below one thousand five hundred feet, it automatically detects flight attitude and airspeed, and makes corrections.”

Andrew gave a soft “Oh.” He typed the words “Ground Collision Avoidance System” on his laptop and added three bold red exclamation marks after it. Then he looked at Zhuo Huan, his expression unchanged: “This ground collision avoidance system ensured that we can sit here today, hear these recordings, and see this data. Without it, the plane would definitely have been smashed into pieces the moment it hit the sea. Patrick, thank you. You are excellent.”

Zhuo Huan glanced back at him and curled his lips in a sneer: “Oh, no need to thank me.”

_

Author’s Note:

This chapter references the Aeroflot Flight 593 crash, also known as the famous “kid in the cockpit” crash.

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