"Holy shit" Kenny said.
They got up from the table, ran into the bar shouting, "Sound! Turn up the sound!" The horrifying images continued.
By the time Casey got into the bar, the video segment had ended. The television now showed a thin man with a moustache, wearing a carefully cut blue suit which somehow suggested a uniform. She recognized Bradley King, an attorney who specialized in airline accidents.
"Well that figures," Burne said, "it's Sky King."
"I think this footage speaks for itself," Bradley King was saying. "My client, Mr. Song, provided it to us, and it vividly portrays the terrible ordeal passengers were subjected to on this doomed flight. This aircraft went into an unprovoked and uncontrolled dive - it came within five hundred feet of crashing in the Pacific Ocean!"
"What?" Kenny Burne said. "It did what!"
"As you know, I'm a pilot myself, and I can say with absolute conviction that what occurred is a result of well-known design flaws on the N-22 jet. Norton has known about these design flaws for years and has done nothing. Pilots, operators, and FAA specialists have all complained bitterly about the aircraft. I personally know pilots who refuse to fly the N-22 because it is so unsafe."
"Especially the ones on your payroll," Burne said.
On the television, King was saying, "Yet the Norton Aircraft Company has done nothing substantive to address these safety concerns. It's inexplicable, really, that they could know about these problems and do nothing. Given their criminal negligence, it was only a matter of time until a tragedy like this occurred. Now three people are dead, two passengers paralyzed, the copilot in a coma as we speak. All together, fifty-seven passengers required hospitalization. That's a disgrace to aviation."
"That sleazebag," Kenny Burne said. "He knows it's not true!"
But the television was showing the CNN tape again, this time in slow motion, the bodies spiraling through the air, alternately blurred and sharp. Watching it, Casey started to sweat. She felt dizzy and cold, her chest tight. The restaurant around her became dim, pale green. She dropped quickly to a bar stool, took a deep breath. Now the television showed a bearded man with a scholarly air, standing near one of the runways at LAX. Aircraft were taxiing in the background. She couldn't hear what the man was saying because the engineers around her were screaming at the image.
"You asshole!"
"Fuckface!"
"Weenyprick!"
"Lying dipshit!"
"Will you guys shut up?" she said. The bearded man on the screen was Frederick Barker, a former FAA official, no longer with the agency. Barker had testified in court against the company several times in recent years. The engineers all hated him.
Barker was saying, "Oh yes, I'm afraid there's no question about the problem." About what problem? she thought, but now the television cut back to the CNN studio in Atlanta, the female anchor in front of a photograph of the N-22. Beneath the photograph it said, UNSAFE? in huge red letters.
"Christ, do you believe that shit," Burne said. "Sky King and then that scumbag Barker. Don't they know Barker works for King?"
The television now showed a bombed-out building in the Middle East. Casey turned away, got off the bar stool, took a deep breath.
"Goddamn, I want a beer," Kenny Burne said. He headed back to the table. The others followed him, muttering about Fred Barker.
Casey picked up her purse, got her cell phone out, and called the office. "Norma," she said, "call CNN and get a copy of the tape they just ran on the N-22."
"I was just going out to - "
"Now," Casey said. "Do it right now."
NEWSLINE
3:06 P.M.
"Deborah!" Jennifer screamed, watching the tape. "Call CNN and get a copy of that Norton tape!" Jennifer watched, transfixed. Now they were running it again, this time in slow motion, six frames a second. And it held up! Fantastic!
She saw one poor bastard tumble through the air like a diver out of control, arms and legs flailing in all directions. The guy smashed into a seat, and his neck snapped, the body twisting, before he bounced up in the air again and hit the ceiling ... Incredible! His neck being broken, right on tape!
It was the greatest piece of tape she'd ever seen. And the sound! Fabulous! People screaming in pure terror - sounds you couldn't fake - people shouting in Chinese, which made it very exotic, and all these incredible crashing noises as people and bags and shit smashed into the walls and ceilings - Jesus!
It was fabulous tape! Unbelievable! And it went on for an eternity, forty-five seconds - and all of it good! Because even when the camera wobbled, when it streaked and blurred, that just added to it! You couldn't pay a cameraman to do that!
"Deborah!" she screamed. "Deborah!"
She was so excited her heart was pounding. She felt like she was going to jump out of her skin. She was dimly aware of the guy on camera now, some weasel lawyer, feeding the segment his opening arguments; it must be his tape. But she knew he would give it to Newsline, he'd want the exposure, which meant - they had a story! Fantastic! A little frill and build, and they were there!
Deborah came in, flushed, excited. Jennifer said, "Get me the clips on Norton Aircraft for the last five years. Do a Nexis search on the N-22, on a guy named Bradley King, and a guy named" - she looked back at the screen - "Frederick Barker. Download it all. I want it now!"
Twenty minutes later, she had the outlines of the story, and the background on the key figures. LA Times story from five years ago on the roll-out, certification, and maiden flight for the launch customer of the Norton N-22. Advanced avionics, advanced electronic control systems and autopilot, blah blah blah.