Читать книгу Аэропорт / Аirport - Артур Хейли - Страница 6

As Mel drove out of the terminal, wind and whirling snow slammed savagely against the car’s windshield.

Mel snapped his mike button down. “Ground control from mobile one. I’m at gate sixty-five, proceeding to runway three zero, site of the stuck 707.”

It took a quarter of an hour to reach the intersection where runway three zero was blocked by the Aéreo-Mexican 707. He stopped the car and got out.

Mel identified himself, then asked a man nearby, “Who are you?”

“Ingram, sir. Aéreo-Mexican maintenance foreman.”

In the past two hours, old-fashioned boarding ramps had been trundled from the terminal and passengers guided down them. The captain and first officer remained.

“Had the engines running twice. But she won’t come free. Just seems to dig herself in deeper. Now we’re taking off more weight, hoping that’ll help.”

Mel shivered. What was it? It was true, wasn’t it?—for the briefest instant he had had a premonition. He should ignore it, of course. Except that once, long ago, he had had the same feeling…

Back in his car Mel held the transmit button down. “This is mobile one, Danny. I’m going to the Conga Line.”

The Conga Line, prime mover of the airport snow-fighting system, was on runway one seven, left. In a few minutes, Mel thought grimly, he would find out for himself if there was truth, or merely malice, in the critical report of Captain Demerest’s Airlines Snow Committee.