The High and the Mighty Page #10

What's the difference?

We'll blow them all if we ditch.

Put those controls back

where they belong.

- Put those props back.

- Nothing doing, Skipper.

That's an order!

Hang on, chum. You can do it.

Now fly and let me pray.

We'll run out of gas,

right over San Francisco.

Let's try out this way for a while.

Don't be so anxious to go for a swim!

- She's starting to shake again.

- Let her shake!

Let her mush down a few feet if you

have to. We're saving fuel this way.

Hang on and fly!

Did you call Sullivan's wife?

Yes, sir. She's on her way to the airport.

- You didn't alarm her?

- No.

I just told her, her husband was on

his way, and that you wanted to see her.

Then she knows something's happened.

Probably. But her voice was quite calm.

How about the others?

Wheeler lives with another pilot,

Dupree. There was no answer.

The same for Wilby.

I called his home

and then a bar I know about.

His wife had been there,

but she left about an hour ago,

drunk.

- The stewardess?

- No, Spalding's mother isn't well.

Her father is out of town on business.

I wish I could tell them all together.

I think maybe they could

help each other.

There isn't anybody listed on there

for Dan Roman.

- Do you know any person close to him?

- Yeah.

But I don't think you could reach her.

Dan lives alone.

- Is everything all right?

- Just great, junior.

This is a stunning garment.

I feel like a catcher for the Dodgers.

It's a frowsy looking shroud,

if you ask me.

Baby.

I went through the first World War

and the Blitz in London.

I was scared, but not like this.

I want to show you something cute.

Want to see something cute?

I must be slipping.

No reaction, even from a man like you,

who should appreciate such things.

Keep talking. Please. Keep talking.

I'm frightened.

Talking. Honey, you don't know

what you're asking.

I'll tell you a good joke on me.

You know, I always dreaded

the idea of becoming an old woman,

and from the way things look now,

I won't have to worry about it anymore.

You know, I haven't been whistled at

in years.

And the idea of growing roses

for the rest of my life

was really beginning to haunt me.

There ought to be a home

for dames like me.

We should have organised.

You know, a house somewhere

with no mirror in it.

Far away, where we'd never have

to look at a young girl.

They have homes

for unmarried mothers.

But everybody forgets

about the girls who

never quite managed

to make things legal.

I think I could start one.

I can call it the "May Holst Home

for Broken-down Broads. "

I kind of like that, don't you?

Well, they're as ready now

as they'll ever be.

Can you take something else

in your stride?

I can try.

Good.

I want you to do me a favour.

Look, when I tell you, sit down there

with your back against that seat,

stay there,

no matter what else is going on.

Don't try to be a heroine

because in those last few moments,

there isn't anything in the world

you can do to help anybody.

You know, your face

can improve any landscape.

I want you to keep it that way.

So the favour for me is this pillow.

Hold it tightly over your face,

for yourself and for me.

With the wind and the sea

neither God nor Sullivan

can set this thing down tonight

like an egg crate.

We might just as well slam

into a mountain. Dan knows it. I know it.

And so does Sullivan.

Wilby, check your final position.

I'm going to take her down.

- Wait a few more minutes.

- Do as I say.

- But it looks like...

- Do as I say.

Give him a few more minutes.

I've already waited too long.

Here we go.

No, we don't. Get a hold of yourself,

you yellow...

420 is losing altitude, sir.

420, from Coast Guard.

Radar reports you're descending.

Are you going to ditch?

You are now below the minimum legal

altitude for approaching the coast.

Time's wasting.

You better climb or settle for the drink.

We're right with you. We'll follow you

down. Advise immediately.

420 to Coast Guard.

We've been too busy to answer.

Stand by.

We may have a change in plans.

Thirty minutes of fuel left.

Cross-feed problem.

Throw the rule book away.

Highest obstruction, 1,950 feet,

so 2,200 will be safe.

Leonard, stand by electric altimeter,

call out readings.

Nose tipped down, ship fly faster.

More efficient use of fuel against time.

Study approach book.

Air Traffic Control to clear area.

Direction finders on range station.

Start right now.

Dan?

Yeah?

Thanks.

Thanks for knocking some sense

into my head.

- Someday I'll explain.

- You don't have to.

We're not going to ditch.

We'll make San Francisco the hard way.

Any change in the wind, Lennie?

We picked up three of those

11 minutes.

Bring me the approach chart

for San Francisco.

Whistle me a tune, Dan.

I like music while I work.

- Can I get you something, Mr Briscoe?

- Yes. A ham sandwich.

I can't. Everything went overboard.

Now you put on that vest.

Great service.

You throw all the food to the sharks,

so you won't have to serve it.

Tell you what. Proposition.

I think Miss Chen will let me

buy her a steak in San Francisco,

if you come along, too.

If you'll accept, I'll put on the vest.

Mr Briscoe, you have yourself a deal.

- Take a breather, Dan.

- Okay.

The Farallon Islands, any minute now.

- Don't go any lower.

- No. I'll hold this altitude.

Get back and call out our altitude

on the radio altimeter.

We'll make straight for the

northwest leg of San Francisco range.

The area's been cleared

and we're practically on the ground.

I like the way you said that.

Twenty-eight miles to go.

He's made first base.

But if that guy runs out of fuel

between here and the airport,

I don't know where he'll put

that thing down

except in the middle of Market Street.

Shut that thing off.

Well?

I'm going over to the terminal.

If needed, I'll be in the control tower.

This is it. Ten minutes.

Come on, let's make a final check.

Inflate your vest, please.

- We're going down?

- Yeah, but you'll be all right.

Take your time coming back to the door.

Wait until I yell.

- Coast Guard plane still with us?

- Right off our wing. He'll stick with us.

Put out your cigarette, please.

Inflate your vest, Mr Childs.

You too, Miss Holst.

- Some brassiere.

- Don't smoke from now on. Good luck.

I really ought to take my briefcase.

Sorry, nothing doing.

Inflate your vest, please.

I can't.

I'm terrified.

I can't seem to move.

Don't worry. Good luck.

- All set, you two?

- We're still hungry.

Our steak date is postponed.

Inflate your vest, please.

Maybe you should keep this.

I'd loved thinking it was mine,

even if it was just for a few hours.

Nonsense.

You can keep it as dry as I can.

If it's still working tomorrow night

at 7:
00,

take a cab to Ernie's restaurant

on Montgomery street.

If it isn't working, come anyway.

Thanks.

We got them all to blow up, see?

Good work. Remember take your time

coming back to the door.

You want?

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