Foreign Dominion

Chapter 20 - Fallen Immortal

Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, State of Washington, USA

A B-17G bomber taxied out to runway 19L. It was headed to Paine Field to take part in a historic flight event – generations of Boeing aircraft would be on display and do flight demonstrations to celebrate the roll-out of Boeing's newest jet airliner. The plane was called "Eleven Fifty-Nine" and was owned by the prestigious Shepard Foundation, an organization dedicated to the historical preservation of relics such as planes, tanks, and other vehicles.

All four engines were throttled to full power, spinning the propellers into a deafening roar as the old plane reached takeoff speed. The pilot told the first officer to pull up the gear but did so himself anyway. The first officer had almost no experience flying a B-17 but had flown small airliners for years. On the other hand, the pilot had thousands of hours at the controls of the eighty-year-old bomber. He was one of the most experienced B-17 pilots left in the world and the first officer had no reason to question him.

In the back of the plane, the loadmaster was seated with several passengers. They'd paid for a flight on board the historic plane and were marveling at the flying piece of history they were on.

Back up front, the pilot monitored his instruments as the ground fell away below him. He felt as if the plane wasn't climbing at full speed, but that wasn't unusual for a warbird like this. Just as he went to check the airspeed, he felt the plane bank to the right. Instinctively, he applied left rudder and left aileron to keep the bomber steady.

"Woah." The first officer said, aware that something was wrong, but not exactly what.

The pilot sighed. "Ah, looks like... hm, looks like we got an engine out. Seems like it's number four to me, what do you think?"

"Uh... yeah... I guess."

"Alright. Let's head back."

Normally, the pilot flying should allow the pilot monitoring to make the radio calls, but the pilot did not. Instead, he toggled his microphone. "Fortress Eleven Fifty-Nine, we need to return to the airport."

"Alright, what runway would you like to land on?" The air traffic controller asked.

The pilot looked to his first officer. "Should we try for 34R?"

"Yeah, that works."

"Okay, we'd like to go for 34R if we can."

"Fifty-Nine, do you need to come back to the airport immediately? We have traffic coming in."

"We have an engine out."

If the pilot had been clearer with ATC about what he wanted to do, he would have declared an emergency immediately and stated his problems and intentions. Alternatively, he could have allowed the first officer to make the calls, perhaps he would have done so correctly. He did neither.

As the plane turned back to the airport, it became much harder to handle. It felt as though there was much less power than there should be – even with an engine out, a B-17 could still reasonably fly. Deep inside the engines, there were problems. Problems that should make an aircraft stay on the ground.

Eleven Fifty-Nine had previously undergone an overhaul a few months prior, when all four engines were checked and worked on. Then, the plane had been in Florida for a time, sitting in the humid, salty air. Corrosion and fouling were an issue for the plane, causing damage inside the engines where it was not visible. This may have been caught during the overhaul, but it could have been from sitting in the harsh environment. Perhaps this should have been checked before it left. It had not.