(Author's note: Hopefully no one will take issue with my flight knowledge...I've never flown a plane, but I've watched some documentaries and played a flight simulator once...so...)
"Cleveland Center, this is Western 166," the pilot said. Western Airlines was a regional airline, operating for one of the big airlines, flying a feet of 50-seat regional jets.
The plane began to descend for its approach. It was still miles from its destination when it happen to pass ten thousand feet over Lake Point.
The pilot, Wesley Calhoun, Wes to his friends, turned to his copilot...Fred Wilcox. "Flaps 20...." he said.
"Flaps 20," the co-pilot said. This was the first time the two pilots had worked together, though they worked for the same airline.
Suddenly, the instruments in the cabin began to shift erratically. Warning sounds filled the cockpit. "What the hell?" Wes said. They leveled off, stopping their descent, and began to test the aircraft, discovering while all the navigation equipment had gone haywire, the controls were still functioning.
"This is Western 166...." Fred said over the radio... "We've had a complete instrument failure...need assistance to make a visual approach to the nearest runway." Fortunately, it was a clear day with good visibility. There was only static.
"Must be messing up the radio too," Wes said. "Maybe some kind of interference...Try another frequency."
Fred cycled through a few frequencies, repeating the message, but no response. "We need to get this plane down..." he said.
"What's the nearest airfield?"
"We're right near one...Lake Point Municipal Airport. There's no tower there though...only one runway...but it's long enough."
The two pilots configured the plane for landing. "This is your captain," Wes said, advising the passengers. "We are experiencing an issue with our instruments and our radio. We have full control of the aircraft, so there is no need for concern. But out of an abundance of caution, we are going to land at the nearest airport. Flight attendants, please be seated." There was only one flight attendant on a plane this size, but it was force of habit.
The landing was fairly routine...there was no other traffic in the sky at their altitude, and they were able to line up for the runway and touch down.
Lake Point Municipal Airport was a small airfield, like many with a few hangars, no terminal, and a few small planes parked outside, mostly turboprops. The two pilots taxied off the runway and as soon as they were in a safe position, began to go through the safety checklist. Everything seemed...normal. Except the radio was still dead. "Shouldn't someone have noticed us?" Fred remarked.
"Probably," Wes commented.
He unbuckled himself and got up, opening the cockpit door. The flight hadn't been full, 2 passengers, 1 flight attendant, and 23 passengers. The flight attendant, an attractive black woman named Suzanne, was standing there. "What happened?"
"Not sure, radio is out. Some sort of interference."
She reached for her cell phone. "Should I try this?"
"Well, can't hurt I guess...if it works," he said.
She started to dial their operations center.
