We’d royally screwed up their arrivals and departures for the rest of the night, and they scrambled to reshuffle to a small grass strip that may or may not be a legal airport. I crossed my arms against my bruised chest, staring at the broken plane in the oasis of charred runway. It looked like a giant in the sky decided to hit it repeatedly with a hammer. It was a dead paperweight. Bent wings, shredded belly, and tail. Once again I shook my head, unable to believe how Anderson and I won the battle to get here. I think we should go down in the record books for weight lifting a jumbo jet.“Co-pilot Mikin?” I turned and focused on the controller who’d talked us through the landing. I was indebted to his quick thinking and problem solving. I didn’t even know his name. I scanned for a name tag or something. Nothing.“Yes—?” I raised an eyebrow.He shook his head, sticking out a hand. “Sorry. My name’s Mack. You guys did a great job. Seeing you come in hot with no landing gear was pretty nerve wracking.
