SECTOR 43 – 2:00 P.M. / 2100Z

Controller Jeff Logan reached over to the metal holders that contained the discarded flight progress strips that he and Lynn had written on previously. Searching through the one inch wide strips, Jeff double checked for any flight progress strip on Seneca November One zero two eight three. Since things had happened so fast when Oakland Center shut them off, Jeff wanted to see if there were any markings on any of the Seneca’s flight progress strips that would indicated to them that they did talk to the aircraft, even though both controllers could not remember doing so. It was entirely possible that during the first intense minutes when the situation began, the Seneca did call on frequency, but contact was lost in the aftermath. Jeff deeply hoped that, that wasn’t the case. Leaning back in his chair as he fingered through the strips, Jeff didn’t care for the diversion from taking care of the line traffic in sector-43. After spending the last forty five rather hectic minutes coordinating the separation, the moving and rerouting of other aircraft after Oakland lost the Battle Mountain radar data, along with helping monitor the quickly set up holding pattern of San Francisco Bay area arrival traffic, the last thing the twenty year veteran air traffic controller wanted to do now was to have to find a lost aircraft somewhere inside what was one of the largest enroute air traffic control sectors in Salt Lake Center’s airspace.

SENECA N10283 – 2:10 P.M. / 2110Z

Buffeted by winds, the Seneca passed over the top of the ninety eight hundred foot mountain range and passed into a large open valley near the Nevada, Oregon, Idaho border. Chad stirred in his seat, the restrains holding him from falling forward into the control yoke. Dizzy and in pain, Chad slowly came to, his mind again struggling to figure out what was happening.
Breathing was difficult. Chad knew that he could not fly his airplane. The thought of the Seneca running out of fuel entered his mind. His lips tightened into a thin line. Giving up hope, Chad realized then, that he didn’t care. He realized that there was nothing he could do. He knew that running out of fuel and crashing into the side of a mountain would be quick and would end the pain.
A mental image of his grandson David, who had just celebrated his first birthday last week, flashed in his mind. The joy of the occasion, his three grown children together at his house for the party, brought a smile to his face. Remembering how proud and happy he felt holding David, physically moved him.
There was a sudden change to Chad at that moment. The will and desire to go on went through his entire body. He knew that he could not sit back and let the airplane crash. He could not do that to his family.
The pain, though still severe, was an obstacle that had to be overcome.

MOUNTAIN HOME AIR FORCE BASE
BASE COMMANDER’S OFFICE – 2:23 P.M. / 2123Z

Colonel Tighe quickly picked up the telephone.
“Colonel Tighe.”
“Colonel Tighe, this is Captain Summers in the RAPCON. We’ve been informed of an unidentified aircraft, approximately seventy miles to the southwest, inbound toward the base. Paradise Intercept had ordered two F-16’s to intercept for a visual.”
“Are the F-16’s armed, Captain?”
“I don’t believe, sir. They were out practicing maneuvers in the operations area and they usually do that unarmed.”
“Do you have radar contact with the aircraft?”
“Negative, sir. However, Paradise Intercept picked him up on their system.”
“What’s your opinion, Captain?”
“My guess, sir, is that it is a pilot that is unfamiliar with the area. Maybe lost and is trying to get to Boise.”
“OK, Captain. Keep me informed.”
Colonel Tighe hung up the telephone and buzzed Bob on the intercom.
“Yes, Colonel?”
“I want base security, the alert pad, and the Paradise Intercept Director on the line. Now!”
The telephone line quickly came alive with all three requested parties.
“Gentlemen. We have an unidentified aircraft headed toward my air force base from the southwest. Paradise, what’s the status of the intercept?”
“Bliss one-one and one-two are within range. Visual confirmation has not been made as of yet, partially due to visibility and cloud cover.”
“What is the distance from the base?”
“Approximately six-five miles southwest, Colonel.”
“Alert pad!”
“Yes, Colonel.”
“Scramble the alert fighters if the aircraft penetrates fifty miles. Understood?”
“Understood, Colonel.”
“Security!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Alert the gates in case this aircraft is a decoy. If the aircraft penetrates fifty miles and is not identified, I want the base up to Alert Bravo. Understood?”
“Understood, Colonel.”
“Paradise,” Col. Tighe then said. “We’re all going to hang on the line until we get word from you on the intercept.”
There was an uneasy silence on the line as all waited to hear from the two F-16’s.