On the plane everyone cried and prayed as the stewardesses prepared for the worst. We all buckled up and leaned forward, awaiting touchdown. For the first time, my thoughts were mixed and random. Why am I doing this? I wondered. What is driving me? I thought.
From the window of the plane, I could see the lights of Atlanta breaking through the clouds. The pilot came across the intercom and warned us to keep our heads down and to stay in our seats. Everyone was prepared for the worst. No one really knew for sure what the problem was, only that it was an emergency landing, and as soon as we landed we would exit the plane immediately down the chute. The cabin was quiet except for some sniffling, crying and whispering prayers. I thought about the little girl, and the hope I had seen in her eyes. I would never forget it.
Suddenly you could hear the wheels of the landing gear screech as they touched down on the runway. The plane began to slow down as the passengers shouted and waved their hands in the air. Quickly the stewardesses took over, helping everyone off the plane along with the help of the pilot and co-pilot. As we made our way to the door, I exited with the other passengers. One by one we stepped to the door, dropped to our bottoms on a giant air mattress and slid down to the ground. When we reached the ground, the police led each of us away from the plane to safety. Ambulances, fire trucks and safety vehicles were there and ready if necessary. I noticed the plane had stopped on the runway away from the airport.
I stood with the other passengers and watched all the activity. Things had changed slightly, and I wondered if I needed a plan B. I racked my brain trying to decide. I didn’t know if I should walk away and let it be a false alarm, or if I should go through with it and just alter my plans. I hate decisions, I thought.
The plane sat in silence on the runway like a silent giant. The FBI watched and waited before they decided to search the plane. I patiently watched as they entered the plane with their guns drawn to see if anyone was hiding on board. As quickly as they entered; they exited. I looked at the faces of the people around me. They were still afraid, unsure, and worried about what might happen next. Tension grew within me. It ate at me and took over my being. I was losing control. My thoughts raced through my mind as small drops of sweat beaded up on my brow. The hope in the little girl’s eyes haunted me. I couldn’t hold back any longer; I had to let it go. Carefully, I slipped the rubber band from my partial in my mouth and let it slip off the end of my tongue. Boom! The plane exploded and went up in flames. Boom! Boom! The rush was so filling.
Immediately, a chain reaction took place as the giant silver bird was engulfed in flames. People started running toward the airport. The emergency vehicles responded, but the jet fuel was so hot they couldn’t do anything. I took off toward the airport with the others. My ego grew with every step I took. I did it, I did it, I thought.
The rubber band I had on my partial released the tension of the microchip detonator glued to the backside of my partial. When the pressure was released, a high pitched sound frequency scrambled the magnetic polar cap sensor on the end of the capsule. That drove a vibrating sound wave through the capsule that lit the nitro filler and caused a meltdown inside the capsule. The capsule then burned its way inside out, ignited the jet fuel which exploded and blew the plane up. As the giant rolls of smoke filled the sky and balls of fire shot through it, my dream had come true. I always wanted to see if I could do it; blow up a commercial jetliner and get away with it. My hunger and obsession had been fulfilled in so many ways.
The year was 1992, the best year of my life. I ran to the airport with the others. Once we reached the airport, I was able to slip into a restroom. I changed into a security officer uniform I had hidden in the air conditioner ducts. As I left the restroom, I blended in with the other officers and worked my way out the door to the parking garage and left in the car I had rented earlier that week. I lied to the police to get through the barricade. I told them I had to rush to the hospital because my wife was having a baby. They believed me and didn’t question me. I went back to my home in Birmingham.
I knew Walker was gathering all the passengers of the flight and moving them into a room at the airport for questioning. I imagined his face. Everyone would be there but me, the priest. The interrogation would probably go on for hours, but I’m sure they’ll all be free to go.
The money stayed in Nashville. I guessed the FBI watched it for weeks at a time; then they figured I wouldn’t come for it. It was never about the money. That was only a decoy to throw them off track. I’m sure the money was returned.