Yep, I'm 72 hours away. Can anyone tell?
...
Time: Wednesday, August 29th, 2007.
Location: Somewhere in the sky above Costa Rica's north border with Nicaragua.
Music: "La Perfect Ocasion", Gocho, Jowell, Randy, De La Ghetto (2006)
10°42'N-084°10'W-0030Z [LOCAL 6:30PM]: 50nm N-NW from the sparkling lights of this nearly 270-year old city -- it's 350k inhabitants busily going about their daily duties -- the dusk sky over the Arenal mountain range births a large shape, seen easily in the fading daylight from the surrounding land. Traveling muted at 360kts 3km above the earth, the A300-600 uncloaks from the whiskey-colored sky, engines throttling down slightly to bring the nose down and the AOA in line with descent. Computer systems check and recheck fuel ratios, anticipated weight loads for wheels-down calcs and also monitor engine temperature and performance -- all the signals for these operations traveling down redundant paths and being processed by redundant processors powered by redundant power. And that's just half of the system because the entire system is duplicated in the Co's seat. Even the wire travelling to the cockpit is double-insulated and isolated from all RF and EMI sources. A cell phone with a 10W booster on the tuned circuits still wouldn't cause trouble and this baby is going to land safe and sound thanks to decades of research in keeping these giants in the sky.
09°57'N-084°27'W-0045Z [LOCAL 6:45PM]: Now 275kts, 2km up and still 40nm away, the craft has covered 98% of its journey and passes just southwest of Poas, Costa Rica heading southwest. The volcano's caldera is clearly visible on the port side of the aircraft as the sun illuminates the peaks and valleys of the surrounding cascade. Flight attendants make final preparation announcements. Tray tables fold up into their homes and seats incline. The passenger in 5B begins to figit, his leg bouncing up and down in a steady pitter-patter rhythm to the annoyance of the man in 4B, a large gentlemen with plenty of patience -- normally. Then, the craft banks 7° to the left, starting the curve into controlled airspace around SJO.
09°57'N-084°39'W-0051Z [LOCAL 6:51PM]: Slowing noticeably, AA2141 enters SJO controller airspace at 20nm out, FL050. The PIC switches his HF comms over to 120.5MHz and does the usual meet and greet. Approach radios back with the switch freq and comms continue between approach and the cockpit.
09°57'N-084°55'W-0052Z [LOCAL 6:52PM]: The large-bodied AB6 begins its gradual descent through FL025 and the flaps engage while simultaneously the hatches covering the wheelwells break the airstream producing the familiar *FFFFFF-KLUNK-FFFFF-CLAT* as the powerful and heavy motors complete the extend, tripping circuits closed and changing the gear icons in the center glass display to GREEN|LOCKED|DOWN. ATC again issues more vectors so that the now lazily lumbering craft can get into proper position for RWY07. "AA2141, your approach clear oh-seven". Squawking back, the co confirms "Ground, AA2141 confirmed Runway oh-seven. Thanks and we'll see you on the ground."
09°57'N-84°17'W-0057Z [LOCAL 6:57PM]: Streets now are clearly visible at 3 o'clock at 700meters above the tarmac, the brown atmosphere of the evening is darkened slightly by the gray tinged fog of diesel over the city center, lights of taller hotels producing starbursts in the chemically-scratched acryllic view ports of the aircraft. The light of San Jose casts a growing glow that will soon light up the entire valley.
09°57'N-84°15'W-0059Z [LOCAL 6:59PM]: 20 seconds before touchdown, a taxista making the final left turn from Autopista General into Juan Santamaria noticeably hears the P-and-W's whine up and slightly down as the PIC makes minor throttle adjustments as he comes on top of centerline. Reverse thrusters are armed and will launch without requiring any input now. Flaps are at full extend, and the engines spool up a degree or two higher to compensate for the heavy drag. The PIC does a quick nose adjustment and the wheels cross the roll-out barrier 20m above the ground. The wings gently tilt from side to side and the nose points up slightly just before flare. 2 seconds and 10 feet from touchdown, the subroutine in the landing system processor calculates the groundspeed and hydraulically spins each of the large main wheels up to a matching rpm. This technique can save some serious wear on the boots but smoke is still produced from the lateral forces especially while the enormous weight of the Airbus isn't yet grounded.
09°57'N-84°13'W-0100Z [LOCAL 7:00PM]: Wheels down. 5B is heard saying "Thank GOD I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack!" 4B leans back and says, "Thank God I'm not going to hear you anymore you SOB! And wipe that drool from your chin, you freak..."
09°57'N-84°13'W-0102Z [LOCAL 7:02PM]: Attendants dually inform in both Spanish and English the passengers of their requirements on how to proceed through immigration. 5B is frothing at the mouth, his leg now a blur in an increasingly busy cabin. In fact, many male passengers have a look akin to a shark in a feeding frenzy, even with a single set of eyelids.
...
09°56'7.99"N-84°04'30.9"W-1015Z [LOCAL 4:15AM]: (385m from the Sportsmens, at the base of the dome, central area, Parque Morazon, San Jose, Costa Rica) A red-crested finch, investigating a smell normally associated with necrosis, lifts off from the shape it perched upon as the shape itself stirs into motion, dormant only for for several minutes. It feels like hours. The shape really is an individual, coming to life under the fringe lighting of the Sodium Vapor lights on Avenida Tres, a handful of meters distant.
Shape: "
Unnnhhhh......". The individual lifts a hand to his eye and dabs a finger above his brow, pressing into a wound, tweaking nerves and drawing a stab of pain deep in his head. A trickle of blood again begins to flow, now stinging his eye with the salty solution.
The shape notices another figure to his left, somewhere out of reach. At 235lbs, a former Marine, the shape knows he's on the ground because something out of this freaking world just hit him in the head. He was KO'd, and viciously. However, he prepares to muster strength to fight off this new threat.
"
UAAHHHH!!!!" he moans, as he tries to roll into a sitting position. He painfully prepares to stand.
The figure to his left breathes gently and reaches a hand to him. A gentle tap to his shoulder gently pushes and simultaneously steadies his shoulder in a downward motion.
Figure: "You'd probably be better off staying down and feigning death. These TV's don't play. Plus, I need to advise you that your pants are missing."
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