Db Cooper Flight Path Novels & Stories

Silvia should be the only one left for him to deal with. It seemed like a ridiculous and difficult request. The co-pilot would definitely ignore it if it were anyone else. But who was Carl? The co-pilot was scared of his status but also impressed by his methods. He agreed to help Carl at once. The co-pilot basically put his career on the line for Carl, but Silvia seemed to stop him from doing so. He couldn't find Silvia's name or Sophie Horan on the passenger list. He also didn't find anyone suspicious who looked like Silvia when he made his rounds on the flight.

“…two additional days.” Sarah smiled. “That’s enough.” John nodded. “Do it.” ⸻ Mid-Flight — Star Gomez’s Jet Thirty thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean, the jet carrying Star Gomez cruised smoothly through the night sky. Inside the cockpit, the autopilot quietly adjusted course. The pilot frowned. “That’s strange.” His co-pilot looked over. “What?” “Flight path just updated.” The co-pilot checked the navigation system. “Control tower?” “Negative.” The GPS screen now displayed a new route.

I ask Duplass. “No.” That part I can’t believe. “Why not?!” “Not until we get confirmation Carlson’s actually on the plane.” “We might not ever be able to get confirmation of that! Not if they’re too far ahead of us!” “I’m going to have a hard enough time explaining why I couldn’t provide the Bureau with a flight plan for this little trip,” Duplass barks. “I’m not about to risk my job if it turns out that all they did was fly the GPS unit to San Francisco to fuck with us.”

They loosened their grip. She twisted free. Grabbed the manual. Kicked them in the chest. They stumbled out. "Page forty-seven." I started reading. "Reduce speed to one hundred forty knots. Deploy flaps to twenty degrees. Maintain level flight till touchdown." "Got it," Damien said. But his voice said he wasn't sure. Ground rushing up. She could see trees. Mountains. Thin strip of concrete that looked impossibly small. "Brace yourself." She wedged into the copilot's seat. The dead pilot is still warm beneath her feet.

"Change the flight to the earliest one tomorrow morning." "Yes, sir!"

The co-pilot's voice, clear and concise, cut through the air, grabbing the attention of everyone on board. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is your co-pilot, Balram speaking," he began, his tone both professional and reassuring. "We are currently flying over the majestic Rocky Mountains. To our right, you can catch a glimpse of the snow-capped peaks of Mount Evans, standing tall and proud at an elevation of 14,265 feet. And on our left, the meandering Colorado River snakes its way through the rugged landscape, creating a stunning tapestry of nature's artistry. As we continue our journey, we will pass through the vibrant city of Denver, the bustling capital of Colorado. Keep your e

He took out his phone to call Phoebe again, only to see a news alert in his notifications. "Flight C200 Crashes with Zero Survivors." He suddenly felt a sharp pang of dread seize his chest. That was the exact flight Phoebe was supposed to take for her return trip.

Jonathan’s corporate donors can't fence them in anymore. We're clearing the sector Deborah shouted from the drivers seat. Her knuckles were relaxed on the control yoke. The twin-engine turboprop plane broke through the layer of storm clouds. It entered a brilliant expanse of blue sky. The Newark tracking radar has completely lost our signature she said. We are a ghost on the grid. I leaned my back against the cockpit partition. My left leg was still tingling with a residual numbness.. It was finally beginning to regain its warmth. I looked across the aisle toward the rear passenger seats. Kemi was sitting quietly in the shadow of the server racks.

I give him a generous tip. He grins, nods and leaves again. I spread the printout on the bed beside the map of the marked storm area. I stare at the red line that is James’ jet which just… stops. Right in the middle of the storm’s worst cell. My stomach knots up. The data looks clinical- latitudes, longitudes, timestamps- but all I see is that frozen gap where the rest of the journey should be. I message Theo. What does it mean, exactly? A moment later, the reply: The transponder dropped out there. They could have flown after that. Doesn’t mean they stopped right there.