The High and the Mighty Page #9

Radar?

Target, Skipper. Strong blip.

Four degrees left, eight miles.

Looks like he's 500 feet below us.

Made a mistake, didn't you, fatso?

What happened to the 11 minutes

you were counting on?

What happened to them, fatso?

You never could make them up,

you just thought you could.

- Lennie, what about it?

- Hang on, Skipper. I'm still checking.

Time's wasting, fatso. Stop shaking.

Find the minutes,

and you can come back to me.

Minutes.

Who's got the minutes?

Your Susie's got them, right here.

Come on, Lennie.

What's holding things up?

The Coast Guard says

your position's wrong.

I'll be right with you, Skipper.

Skipper?

I got bad news.

The Coast Guard was right.

I made a dumb kid's mistake.

We're not as close to the coast

as I thought we were.

I was figuring in knots instead of miles.

I guess I was just scared.

What about those 11 minutes?

They can make the difference

between the water and your own bed.

They aren't there.

They never were there.

I'm sorry, Skipper.

I hope this will float.

I am so excited about your arrival,

Sally.

Tomorrow, I'll leave these mountains

and pines, which will be your home, too,

and go down to the city

for my first visit in over a year.

I want to get there

a few days before you arrive,

because there are some things

this cabin needs

to make it more comfortable for a girl.

I'm still scared you won't like it up here,

unless you're nuts about

the sound of a mountain stream,

or love to watch the sun seem to turn

a mountain peak around very slow.

Hey, Henry.

One of our neighbours

just came by to say hello.

A little fawn I call Henry.

He seems to ask,

"Where is Sally? Where is your wife?"

So hurry, girl!

So you'll be sure to recognise me

at the airport,

I'll be wearing a bright green tie.

P.S. I was just thinking how lucky I am.

I happened to pick up

an old torn magazine

and there is your picture,

smacking me right between the eyes.

And only a short time later,

that very wonderful-looking little girl

is coming to share my life.

Remarkable.

What's so remarkable?

Is it faith or just habit

that compels a woman

to put on fresh makeup

before boarding a life raft?

Aren't you jumping the gun?

You're being a fatalist

about this business then?

I'm not sure I even know

what a fatalist is.

I'm not sure I even know

what a fatalist is.

How can you sit there so calmly then,

when a little while ago

you were terrified?

I sat down here with you because

I thought I might be able to help you.

But I'm not needed.

If you came over to give me help,

it was partly because

you needed help yourself,

very badly.

Don't worry about me.

I've just stopped worrying

about losing something

I never had a chance to get

in the first place.

Would the thing be a man?

Or am I getting too personal?

You are.

I don't care anymore.

I've been kidding myself long enough.

I'm not gonna run away anymore.

What are you hiding from?

Myself.

He's a kind, clean, wonderful man.

He has a right to know

what kind of a person I am.

I'm going to tell him

that I'm a different kind of person

than he thinks I am.

I'm not wonderful,

not kind, I'm not clean.

Telling you these things is easy,

because you're a stranger

and I'll never see you again.

Telling him is...

It's going to be one of the hardest things

I've ever done in my life,

'cause in my heart,

I'll always see him

even when he turns his back

and walks away.

Look at my face.

Wouldn't you walk away?

I'm so much older

than my years have made me.

Look at my face carefully, as he'll do.

You'll see how very old I am.

I'm beat.

I'll make a swell-looking bride.

A beat bride.

But I'm not afraid anymore.

Now that I know what's going to happen,

I'm almost happy.

So, I wasn't making up my face

a few minutes ago.

I was looking in the mirror, at me.

Does that answer your question,

mister?

I was mistaken.

You aren't a fatalist.

You're a very courageous young lady.

Maybe some of it will brush off on me

if I keep sitting here.

Maybe I can throw a few things

out of my own life.

- Cigarette?

- No, thanks. I don't use them things.

- Do you have to do that?

- Yeah.

Could I have my property back now?

- Why?

- It would mean a great deal to me.

Take away this feeling

of being constantly watched.

I'm all right, now. Quite calm.

You can trust me.

Sit down.

You got lots to think about,

and maybe not so much time for to do it.

Holy Mary, mother of God,

pray for us sinners,

now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Our Father, who art in Heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

Thy Kingdom come...

Sparks, get on the horn.

Advised interception completed at 56.

Okay, Dan. I'll take over.

Go back now. Take the Gibson girl,

get the passengers all set.

You'll have plenty of time.

Turn on the seat belt sign 10 minutes

before we start for the water.

Good luck, you guys.

- Anything new with the wind, Lennie?

- No.

We're not very fat, then?

- If we only had 11 minutes more of fuel.

- Eleven minutes? Is that all you need?

- Are you sure?

- I know exactly where we are now.

Eleven minutes more of fuel

would see us through.

What increase in wind velocity would

we need to arrange that little thing?

Twenty knots in the next hour.

- That's asking a lot.

- Yeah.

It couldn't happen so I'm not asking.

But if the wind swung around

a little more in the tail

it could be.

I guess they'll pick us up

before we get too damp.

Susie will sure be worried.

She'll lay down the law.

Probably insist I quit flying.

Will you?

No.

- Everything's here. I just hope it works.

- It will.

Wouldn't you rather

not have to depend on it?

- What do you mean?

- Suppose we didn't ditch.

You've got to.

Lennie says all we need

is 11 extra flying minutes to make land.

Sullivan's the captain. He says we ditch.

Would you think I was wrong

if I tried to talk him out of it?

Maybe try a little luck?

Luck?

That's has-been thinking.

Wanna run out of fuel,

right over San Francisco?

Wipe out a few bridges

or apartment houses?

Sullivan's been over this ocean

lots of times. He knows his business.

I've seen men act like this before.

Sometimes because of one thing

or another,

fella stops thinking straight temporarily.

I've been flying a long time, Hobie.

Only, you're not the captain.

Maybe because your so-called luck

ran out on you once

down in South America.

This is no luck operation.

You better go back to

your helmet and goggles.

Maybe.

Here it is, Lennie.

Colour may not become you

- but it'll suffice you.

- Thanks, for nothing.

About that 11 minutes,

are you absolutely sure?

Absolutely.

Lennie says if we can pick up

11 minutes, we can make it.

He could be right.

It'll be rough down there.

If we hit wrong, we've had it.

Maybe we ought to ease off a little on

the power and save a few drops of fuel.

Any objections if I try it?

This won't work.

She's going to stall on me.

That's no good.

We'll blow another engine.

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