Ninety-Three
by M Man
(An alternate history of September 11.)
Daria Morgendorffer stared dully out the window of the airplane. In the distance, she saw a large city, built on hills. Pittsburgh, she was pretty sure. She had never seen it before. Well, at least she had seen Pittsburgh before she died.
That would be soon enough, she thought, looking at her father in the seat next to her.
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A week earlier, just days into her senior year at Lawndale High, Jake had asked if she would like to go on a business trip with him. He would be meeting some clients in New York City on Monday and then flying to San Francisco on Tuesday on related business.
Daria didn't know how she could justify skipping school for a week, but finally thought Ms. Li might approve her absence if she told her she was going to visit some colleges - Columbia and Stanford would do.
Daria promised she would keep up with her schoolwork via the Internet. Ms. Li approved the absence.
Daria and Jake drove a rental car to New York City on Sunday. On Monday, Jake met with clients in the World Trade Center on Monday morning. Daria went to the top of one of the towers and spent an hour looking at the view. Monday afternoon she actually did visit Columbia University.
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Now, sitting in the hijacked plane they had taken out of Newark Tuesday morning, Daria knew that the towers had been the first target of the terrorists who had hijacked her own plane. Passengers on her plane had gotten cellphone calls from their families. First, they had told about airplanes flying into the World Trade Center. Later had come calls about a plane hitting the Pentagon.
Where was her plane headed? Would she see the Capitol or the White House as the last sight before she died?
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Daria turned to look back at the rear of the plane. One of the terrorists stood at the rear, holding a box-cutter. There was another terrorist standing in the front of the plane. He claimed to have a bomb. Two others had killed the pilot and co-pilot and were now flying the plane.
Daria also noticed an earnest man, about 30 years old, making his way quietly among the passengers. The terrorists didn't seem worried about him.
Finally the man settled into a seat behind Daria.
"Anybody here got military experience? Or law-enforcement experience?"
Nobody spoke up.
Then Jake said, "well, I went to military school."
"That'll have to do. I've found some good people here, but I need more. Look, uh, ..."
"Jake, Jake Morgendorffer."
"Todd Beamer. Look, Jake, you know we're all going to die if we don't do something about this. We've got to try to take over this airplace. We've literally got nothing to lose by trying."
For a moment the dispirited look in Jake's eyes brightened.
"Uh, what do you want me to do?"
"Well, I've got some of the younger guys - no offense, Jake - set to overpower the two terrorists here in the passenger cabin. You and I and a couple others are going to break into the cockpit. We've got to do this quickly. If that pilot has time to know what we're doing, he may crash the plane anywhere."
Jake looked at Daria.
"Daria, you stay right here, OK? No matter what happens, stay in your seat."
"But, Dad, ..."
"Please, Daria, I think this man has a good plan."
Daria took a deep breath. Jake was right. She wouldn't be much help in physically overpowering someone.
"OK, Dad."
"Daria, we're going to make it."
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Todd was on his own cellphone, describing the situation to an operator. He told the operator to pass on a message to his wife, Lisa. Todd was touched to learn that the operator was also named Lisa.
Daria was hugging Jake and quietly sobbing. She heard Todd recite the Lord's Prayer into the cellphone.
"Daria," said Jake, "I haven't always been the father or husband I wanted to be, but I want us to live through this and see your mother and Quinn again ..."
Just then Jake felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Todd. Jake broke away from Daria and joined the others.
Todd looked at Jake and the few others he had chosen. He took a deep breath.
"All right," he said, "let's roll."
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Suddenly, it happened. The terrorist in the front was attacked by three large passengers. One man grabbed the terrorist's box cutter and cut the terrorist's throat.
The terrorist in the rear began rushing forward to help his co-conspirator. There was a welcoming party for him, too, but he somehow pushed past them. He was running toward the cockpit, toward Jake, Todd and two others who were so far unable to break down the cockpit door.
The terrorist saw something flash at his feet. He looked down and saw a boot, a girlish knee, and a pleated skirt. He tripped over the boot and went sprawling up the aisle.
Another passenger kicked at him and caught him flush in the head, breaking his neck.
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Just then, the cockpit door broke open. The terrorist co-pilot quickly turned and shoved his box-cutter into the stomach of a man named Wally. Wally went down, clutching his stomach. Almost simultaneously, Todd caught the co-pilot with a punch to the jaw. Jake and another passenger had grabbed the pilot from behind. Then Todd, using the co-pilot's box- cutter, slashed the pilot's throat.
"Damn!" shouted Todd. "We're losing altitude fast! Wally?"
Wally was still laying on the floor, clutching his stomach and groaning.
"Damn! Damn! He was supposed to fly this thing!" said Todd. Todd stuck his head out the cabin door and shouted to the other passengers.
"Can anybody here fly a plane?"
No response.
"Has anyone here flown any kind of plane?"
No response. Todd couldn't believe they had come this far and now they had no pilot. He tried one more time.
"Has anyone here ever used a flight simulator?"
"Me." came a voice from behind him. It was Jake Morgendorffer.
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Jake had spent several months using a flight simulator while in military school. One of the instructors had been an Air Force test pilot, and set up the opportunity. Jake had signed up mostly because Corporal Ellenbogen hadn't.
"OK, Jake, you're the pilot, I'm the co-pilot," said Todd. "What do I do?"
Jake pulled back on the control. The plane shuddered.
"Uh, Todd, I don't think we can pull out of this dive without stalling. I think we have to level out and land as soon as possible."
"But we're over mountains and forests!"
"We only have a few more seconds, Todd. I'll just have to ... "
"Jake, look!" shouted Todd. "that clear stretch! It looks like some sort of mining operation. Can you miss those cranes?"
"Yeah," said Jake without conviction, but trying to remember everything he had learned in the simulator. "Todd, can you find the switch to lower the wheels?"
Todd looked around the controls frantically and saw a switch called "WHEELS". He flipped it and heard the landing gear lower.
"Todd, when the wheels hit, pull back hard on this lever, to reverse the thrust. Pull really hard, both hands ..."
"Gotcha, Jake ..."
The ground was rising fast. Todd glanced to his right and saw a town. He didn't know it was called Shanksville.
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Daria felt the wheels strike the ground. She didn't know if this was a landing or a crash. She closed her eyes and hung on.
The plane bumped across the field, shaking Daria so hard she couldn't focus her eyes. Finally it came to rest, just short of a row of trees.
She was still alive.
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"Jake! You did it! Damn! You did it!" Todd screamed, "Woo-hooooo!!"
"Mommy?" said Jake in a weak voice. But it was not his mother, but his eldest daughter who came through the cockpit door, hugging him and crying and repeating "Daddy, I love you, I love you so much ..."
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"Yesterday, the first victory in the War on Terrorism was won by Americans over the skies of Somerset County, Pennsylvania. The leaders were a group of brave passengers lead by Todd Beamer and Jacob Morgendorffer ..."
George W. Bush, September 12, 2001
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NOTES
I visited the Flight 93 memorial site during the summer of 2002 and found myself imagining it as the site of a triumphant safe landing rather than a memorial those who died.
Yes, I'm aware Victor Hugo wrote a book called "Ninety-Three."
Much thanks to beta-readers Firah and RedLegRick.