Airframe

Airframe Page 15

"Autopilot is fine."

"I see." Marder looked around the room. "So we have nothing, is that right? Seventy-two hours into this investigation and we have no damned idea what happened to Flight 545? Is that what you're telling me?"

There was silence around the table.

"Christ," Marder said, disgusted. He pounded the table. "Don't you people understand? I want this fucking thing solved?'

SEPULVEDA BLVD

10:10 A.M.

Fred Barker was solving all her problems.

To start, Jennifer needed a walk-to-work shot for Marty's voice-over intro ("We talked to Frederick Barker, a former FAA official, now a controversial crusader for aircraft safety"). Barker suggested a location on Sepulveda, with a sweeping view of the south runways of Los Angeles International Airport. It was perfect, and he was careful to mention that no other film crew had used it before.

Next she needed an at-work shot, again for voice-over ("Since leaving the FAA, Barker has worked tirelessly to bring defective aircraft designs to the public's attention -  particularly the design of the Norton N-22"). Barker suggested a corner of his office, where he placed himself in front of a bookshelf of thick FAA documents, at a desk heaped nigh with technical-looking pamphlets, which he thumbed through for camera.

Next she needed his basic spiel, in the kind of detail that Reardon wouldn't have time to bother with during the interview. Barker was ready for this, too. He knew where the switches were for the air-conditioning, the refrigerator, the telephones, and all the other noise sources they'd need to turn off for filming. Barker also had a video monitor ready, to replay the CNN tape from Flight 545 while he commented on it. The monitor was a studio-grade Trinitron, placed in a dark corner of the room, so they could get an image off it. There was a V-plug so they could take the feed directly, to sync his audio comments. And Barker was running one-inch tape, so image quality was excellent. He even had a large model of the N-22 aircraft, with moving parts on the wing and tail that he could use to demonstrate what had gone wrong in flight. The model sat on a stand on his desk, so it didn't look like a prop. And Barker was dressed for the part: informal shirtsleeves and tie, reminiscent of an engineer, an authoritative look.

Barker was good on camera, too. He appeared relaxed. He didn't use jargon; his answers were short. He seemed to understand how she would cut the tape together, so he didn't lock her into anything. For example, he didn't reach for the model airplane in the middle of an answer. Instead, he gave his answer, then said, "At this point, I'd like to refer to the model." When she agreed, he repeated the previous answer, picking up the model at the same time. Everything he did was smooth, with no fumbling or awkwardness.

Of course Barker was experienced, not only on television but in the courtroom. The only problem was that he didn't give her strong emotion - no shock, no outrage. On the contrary, his tone, his manner, his body language, suggested profound regret. It was unfortunate that this situation arose. It was unfortunate that steps hadn't been taken to correct the problem. It was unfortunate that authorities hadn't listened to him for all these years.

"There have been eight previous problems with slats on the airplane," he said. He held the model up, near his face, turned it so that it didn't gleam in the crew lights. "These are the slats," he said, pulling out a sliding panel from the front of the wing. He took his hand away, and said, "You get that in close-up?"

"I was late," the cameraman said "Could you do it again?'

"Sure. Are you starting wide?"

'Two Ts," the cameraman said.

Barker nodded. He paused, then began again. "There have been eight previous problems with slats on this airplane." Again he held the model up, this time already correctly turned so it didn't reflect in the light. "These are the slats," he said, and pulled out the panel in front of the wing. Then he paused again.

"Got it that time," the cameraman said.

Barker continued. "The slats are only deployed for takeoff and landing. During flight, they are tucked back in the wing. But on the Norton N-22, the slats have been known to extend by themselves during flight. It's a design error." Another pause. "I'm going to demonstrate what happens now, so you may want to be wide enough to see the whole plane."

"Widening," the cameraman said.

Barker waited patiently for a moment, then said, "The consequence of this design error is that when the slats extend, the airplane noses upward, like this, threatening to stall." He tilted the model up slightly. "At this point, it is almost impossible to control. If the pilot tries to restore the plane to level flight, the plane overcompensates, and goes into a dive. Again, the pilot corrects, to come out of the dive. The plane climbs. Then dives. Then climbs again. That is what happened to Flight 545. That is why people died."

Barker paused.

"Now we're through with the model," he said. "So I'm going to put it down."

"Okay," Jennifer said She had been watching Barker on the monitor on the floor, and now she was thinking that she might nave difficulty cutting from the wider shot to a shot of putting the model down. What she really needed was a repetition of -

Barker said, "The plane dives. Then climbs. Then dives again. That is what happened to Flight 545. That is why people died." With a regretful look, he put the model down. Although he did it gently, his very gesture seemed to suggest a crash.

Jennifer had no illusions about what she was watching. This wasn't an interview; it was a performance. But a skilled approach was not rare these days. More and more interview subjects seemed to understand camera angles and editing sequences. She had seen executives show up in full makeup for an interview. At first, television people had been alarmed by this new sophistication. But lately, they'd become used to it. There was never enough time; they were always rushing from one location to the next. A prepared subject made their work so much easier.

But just because Barker was smooth and camera savvy, she wasn't going to let him get away without a little probing. The final part of her job today was to cover the basic questions, in case Marty ran out of time, or forgot to ask them.

She said, "Mr. Barker?"

"Yes?" He turned toward her.

"Check the look," she said to the cameraman.

"His look is wide. Move a little closer to camera."

Jennifer slid her chair over so she was right beside the lens. Barker turned slightly to face her, at her new position.

"His look is fine, now."

"Mr. Barker," Jennifer said, "you are a former FAA employee..."

"I used to work for the FAA," Barker said, "but I left the agency because I disagreed with their hands-off attitude toward manufacturers. The Norton plane is a result of those lax policies."

Barker was again demonstrating his skill: his answer was a complete statement. He knew that he was more likely to get his comments on camera if they were not responses to a question.

Jennifer said, "There is some controversy surrounding your departure."

"I am familiar with some of the allegations about why I left the FAA," Barker said, again making a statement "But the fact is my departure was an embarrassment to the agency. I criticized the way they worked, and when they refused to respond, I left. So I'm not surprised they are still trying to discredit me."

She said, "The FAA claims you leaked materials to the press. They say they fired you for that."

"There's never been any proof of the allegations the FAA has made about me. I have never seen any FAA official produce one shred of evidence to back their criticisms of me."

"You work for Bradley King, the attorney?'

"I have served as an expert aviation witness on a number of legal cases. I think it's important that somebody with knowledge speak out."

"You are paid by Bradley King?'

"Any expert witness is reimbursed for time and expenses. That's standard procedure."

"Isn't it true that you're a full-time employee of Bradley King? That your office, everything in this room, everything we see here, is paid for by King?'

"I am funded by the non-profit Institute for Aviation Research in Washington. My job is to promote safety in civil aviation. I do whatever I can to make the skies safe for travelers."

"Mr. Barker, come on: Aren't you an expert for hire?'

"I certainly have strong opinions about air safety. It's only natural that I would be hired by employers who share my concerns."

"What is your opinion of the FAA?'

"The FAA is well intentioned, but it has a dual mandate, both to regulate air travel and to promote it. The agency needs complete reform. It is much too cozy with the manufacturers."

"Can you give me an example?' It was a feed; she knew from previous conversations what he would say.

Again, Barker made a statement. "One good example of this cozy relationship is the way the FAA treats certification. The documents required to certify a new airplane are not maintained by the FAA, but by the manufacturers themselves. This hardly seems proper. The fox is guarding the chicken coop."

"Is the FAA doing a good job?"

"I'm afraid the FAA is doing a very poor job. American lives are needlessly put at risk. Frankly it's time for a thorough overhaul. Otherwise I am afraid passengers will continue to die, as they did on this Norton aircraft." He gestured - slowly, so the camera could follow - to the model on his desk. "In my opinion," he said, "what happened on that airplane ... is a disgrace."

The interview ended. While her crew was packing up, Barker came over to her. "Who else are you seeing?"

"Jack Rogers is next."

"He's a good man."

"And someone from Norton." She consulted her notes. "A John Marder."

"Ah."

"What does that mean?'

"Well, Marder is a fast-talker. He'll give you a lot of double-talk about Airworthiness Directives. A lot of FAA jargon. But the fact is that he was the program manager on the N-22. He supervised the development of that aircraft. He knows there's a problem - he's part of it."

OUTSIDE NORTON

After the practiced smoothness of Barker, the reporter, Jack Rogers, was a bit of a shock. He showed up wearing a lime-green sport coat that screamed Orange County, and his check-patterned tie jumped on the monitor. He looked like a golf pro, spruced up for a job interview.

Jennifer said nothing at first; she just thanked the reporter for coming, and positioned him in front of the chain-link fence, with Norton Aircraft in the background. She went over her questions with him; he gave tentative little answers, excited, eager to please.

"Gee, it's hot," she said. She turned to the cameraman. "How we coming, George?"

"Almost there."

She turned back to Rogers. The sound guy unbuttoned Rogers's shirt, threaded the microphone up to his collar. As preparations continued, Rogers began to sweat. Jennifer called for the makeup girl to wipe him down. He seemed relieved. Then, pleading the heat, she convinced Rogers to remove his sport coat and sling it over his shoulder. She said it would give him a working-journalist look. He gratefully agreed. She suggested he loosen his tie, which he did.

She went back to the cameraman. "How is it?"

"Better without the jacket. But that tie is a nightmare."

She returned to Rogers, smiled. "This is working so well," she said. "How would it be if you take off the tie, and roll up your sleeves?"

"Oh, I never do that," Rogers said. "I never roll up my sleeves."

"It would give you that strong but casual look. You know, rolled-up shirtsleeves, ready to fight. Hard-hitting journalist. That idea."

"I never roll up my sleeves."

She frowned. "Never?"

"No. I never do."

"Well, it's just a look we're talking about here. You'd come off stronger on camera. More emphatic, more forceful."

"I'm sorry."

She thought: What is this? Most people would do anything to get on Newsline. They'd do the interview in their underwear, if she asked them to. Several had. And here was this fucking print journalist, what did he make, anyway? Thirty grand a year? Less than Jennifer's monthly expense account.

"I, uh, can't," Rogers said, "because, uh, I have psoriasis."

"No problem. Makeup!"

Standing with his jacket slung over his shoulder, his tie removed, shirtsleeves rolled up. Jack Rogers answered her questions. He rambled, speaking thirty, forty seconds at a time. If she asked him the same question twice, hoping for a shorter answer, he just started to sweat, and gave a longer answer.

They had to keep breaking for makeup to wipe him down. She had to reassure him again and again that he was doing great, just great. That he was giving her really good stuff.

And he was, but he couldn't punch it. He didn't seem to understand she was making an assembled piece, that the average shot would be less than three seconds, and they would cut to him for a sentence, or a fragment of a sentence, before they cut to something else. Rogers was earnest, trying to be helpful, but he was burying her in detail she couldn't use, and background she didn't care about.

Finally she began to worry that she couldn't use any of the interview, that she was wasting her time with this guy. So she followed her usual procedure in a situation like this.

"That's all perfect," she said. "Now we're coming to the conclusion of the piece. We need something punchy" - she made a fist - "to close. So I'll ask you a series of questions, and you answer them with one punchy sentence."

"Okay," Rogers said.

"Mr. Rogers, could the N-22 cost Norton the China sale?"

"Given the frequency of incidents involving - "

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just need a simple sentence. Could the N-22 cost Norton the China sale?"

"Yes, it certainly could."

"I'm sorry," she said again. "Jack, I need a sentence like, 'The N-22 might very well cost Norton the China sale.'"

"Oh. Okay." He swallowed.

"Could the N-22 cost Norton the China sale?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I have to say that it might cost the China sale."

Jesus, she thought.

"Jack, I need you to say 'Norton' in the sentence. Otherwise we won't know what you're referring to."

"Oh."

"Go ahead."

"The N-22 might very well cost Norton the China sale, in my opinion."

She sighed. It was dry. No emotional force. He might as well be talking about his phone bill. But she was running out of time. "Excellent," Jennifer said. "Very good. Let's go on. Tell me: Is Norton a troubled company?"

"Absolutely," he said, nodding and swallowing.

She sighed. "Jack."

"Oh. Sorry." He took a breath. Then, standing there, he said, "I think that - "

"Wait a minute," she said. "Put your weight on your forward foot. So you're leaning in toward camera."

"Like this?" He shifted his body weight, turned slightly.

"Yeah, that's it. Perfect. Now go ahead."

Standing there, in front of the fence outside Norton Aircraft, with his jacket slung over his shoulder, and his shirtsleeves rolled up, reporter Jack Rogers said, "I think there's no doubt that Norton Aircraft is a company in serious trouble."

Then he paused. He looked at her.

Jennifer smiled. "Thank you very much," she said. "You were great."

NORTON ADMINISTRATION

11:55A.M.

Casey came into John Marder's office a few minutes before noon, and found him smoothing his tie, shooting his cuffs. "I thought we would sit here," he said, pointing to a coffee table with chairs in the corner of his office. "You all set for this?"

"I think so," Casey said.

"Just let me take it, at the beginning," Marder said. "I'll turn to you for assistance if I need it."

"Okay."

Maider continued to pace. "Security says there was a film crew out by the south fence," he said. "They were doing an interview with Jack Rogers."

"Uh-huh," Casey said.

"That idiot Christ. I can imagine what he had to say."

"Did you ever talk to Rogers?" Casey said.

The intercom buzzed. Eileen said, "Ms. Malone is here, Mr. Marder."

"Send her in," Marder said.

And he strode to the door, to greet her.

Casey was shocked by the woman who walked in. Jennifer Malone was a kid, hardly older than Richman. She couldn't be more than twenty-eight or -nine, Casey thought. Malone was blond, and quite pretty - in an uptight. New York sort of way. She had short bobbed hair that downplayed her sexuality, and she was dressed very casually: jeans and a white T-shirt, and a blue blazer with a weird collar. The trendy Hollywood look.

Casey felt uncomfortable, just looking at her. But now Marder had turned, and was saying, "Ms. Malone, I'd like to introduce Casey Singleton, our Quality Assurance specialist on the Incident Review Team."

The blond kid smirked.

Casey shook her hand.

You got to be kidding, Jennifer Malone thought. This is a captain of industry? This jumpy guy with slicked back hair and a bad suit? And who was this woman out of a Talbots catalog? Singleton was taller than Jennifer - which Jennifer resented -  and good-looking in a wholesome, midwestern way. She looked like an athlete, and she seemed to be in pretty good shape - although she was long past the age where she could get by with the minimal makeup she wore. And her features were strained, tense. Under pressure.

Jennifer felt disappointed. She had been preparing for this meeting all day, honing her arguments. But she had imagined a much more commanding adversary. Instead, she was back in high school - with the assistant principal and the timid librarian. Little people with no style.

And this office! Small, with gray walls and cheap, utilitarian furniture. It had no character. It was just as well she wasn't filming here, because this room wouldn't photograph. Did the president's office look like this, too? If so, they would have to tape his interview somewhere else. Outside, or on the assembly line. Because these shabby little offices just didn't work for the show. Airplanes were big and powerful. The audience wouldn't believe that they were made by crummy little people in drab offices.

Marder led her to a seating arrangement, to one side. He gestured grandly, as if he were taking her to a banquet. Since he gave her a choice of where to sit, she took a chair with her back to the window, so the sun would be in their eyes.

She got out her notes, shuffled through them. Marder said, "Would you like something to drink? Coffee?"

"Coffee would be great."

"How do you take it?"

"Black," Jennifer said.

Casey watched as Jennifer Malone set out her notes. "I'll be frank," Malone said. "We've gotten some damning material on the N-22 from critics. And on the way this company operates. But there are two sides to every story. We want to make sure we include your response to the criticism."

Marder said nothing, just nodded. He was sitting with his legs crossed, a notepad on his lap.

'To begin," Malone said, "we know what happened on the Transpacific flight."

Really? Casey thought. Because we don't.

Malone said, "The slats came out - deployed? - in midair, and the airplane became unstable, went up and down, killing passengers. Everyone has seen the film of that tragic accident We know passengers have filed lawsuits against the company. We also know the N-22 has a long history of slats problems, which neither the FAA nor the company has been willing to deal with. This, despite nine separate incidents in recent years."

Malone paused for a moment, then went on. "We know that the FAA is so lax in its regulatory policies that it doesn't even require certification documents to be submitted. The FAA has allowed Norton to keep the certification documents here."

Jesus, Casey thought She doesn't understand anything.

"Let me dispose of your last point first," Marder said. "The FAA doesn't have physical possession of certification documents from any manufacturer. Not Boeing, not Douglas, not Airbus, not us. Frankly, we'd prefer the FAA do the warehousing. But the FAA can't store them, because the documents contain proprietary information. If they were in possession of the FAA, our competitors could obtain

this information under the Freedom of Information Act. Some of our competitors would like nothing better. Airbus in particular has been lobbying for a change in FAA policy - for the reasons I've just explained. So I presume you got this idea about the FAA from someone at Airbus."

Casey saw Malone hesitate, glance down at her papers. It was true, she thought. Marder had nailed her source. Airbus had fed her that tidbit, probably through its publicity arm, the Institute for Aviation Research. Did Malone realize the Institute was an Airbus front?

"But don't you agree," Malone said coolly, "that the arrangement is a little too cozy if the FAA lets Norton store its own documents?"

"Ms. Malone," Marder said, "I've already told you we'd prefer the FAA do the storage. But we didn't write the Freedom of Information Act. We don't make the laws. We do think that if we spend billions of dollars developing a proprietary design, it should not be made available free of charge to our competitors. As I understand it, FOIA wasn't enacted to enable foreign competitors to pillage American technology."

"So you oppose the Freedom of Information Act?'

"Not at all. I'm simply saying that it was never designed to facilitate industrial espionage." Marder shifted in his chair. "Now, you mentioned Flight 545."

"Yes."

"First of all, we don't agree that the accident was the result of slats deployment."

Uh-oh, Casey thought. Marder was going out on a limb. What he was saying wasn't true, and it might very well -

Marder said, "We're currently investigating this situation, and although it's premature for me to discuss the findings of our inquiry, I believe you have been misinformed on the situation. I presume you've gotten this slats information from Fred Barker."

"We are talking to Mr. Barker, among others..."

"Have you spoken to the FAA about Mr. Barker?" Marder said.

"We know he's controversial..."

'To put it mildly. Let's just say he adopts an advocacy position that is factually incorrect"

"You believe it is incorrect"

"No, Ms. Malone. It is factually incorrect," Marder said, testily. He pointed to the papers Malone had spread out on the table. "I couldn't help noticing your list of slats incidents. Did you get that from Barker?"

Malone hesitated a fraction. "Yes."

"May I see it?'

"Sure."

She handed the paper to Marder. He glanced at it.

Malone said, "Is it factually incorrect, Mr. Marder?'

"No, but it's incomplete and misleading. This list is based on our own documents, but it is incomplete. Do you know about Airworthiness Directives, Ms. Malone?"

"Airworthiness Directives?"

Marder got up, went to his desk. "Every time there is an inflight incident involving our aircraft, we review the incident thoroughly, to find out what happened and why. If there's a problem with the aircraft, we issue a Service Bulletin; if the FAA feels compliance with our bulletin should be mandatory, it then issues an Airworthiness Directive. After the N-22 went into active service, we discovered a slats problem, and an Airworthiness Directive was issued to correct the problem. Domestic carriers are required by law to fix the airplanes, to prevent further occurrences."

He came back with another sheet of paper, which he handed to Malone. "This is a complete list of incidents."

Slats Events of Norton N-22

1. January 4,1992. (DO) Slats deployed at FL350, at .84 Mach. The flap/slat handle moved inadvertently. A/D 44-8 was issued as a result of this incident

2. April 2,1992. (DO) Slats deployed while the airplane was in cruise at .81 Mach. A clipboard reportedly fell on the flap/slat handle. A/D 44-8 was not accomplished but would have prevented this occurrence.  

3. July 17,1992. (DO) Initially reported as severe turbulence, it was later learned that the slats had extended as a result of inadvertent flap/slat handle movement. A/D 44-8 was not incorporated and would have prevented this occurrence.

4. December 20,1992. (DO) Slats extended in cruise flight without movement of the flap/slat handle in cockpit. Confirmed slat cable rigging was out of tolerance in three places. A/D 51-29 was issued as a result of this incident.

5. March 12,1993. (FO) Airplane entered a prestall buffet at .82 Mach. The slats were found to be extended and the handle was not in the up and locked position. A/D 51-29 was not incorporated and would have prevented this occurrence.

6. April 4,1993. (FO) First officer rested his arm on the flap/slat handle as he was operating the autopilot and the action moved the handle down, extending the slats. A/D 44-8 was not incorporated and would have prevented this occurrence.

7. July 4,1993. (FO) Pilot reported the flap/slat handle moved and slats extended. Aircraft was in cruise flight at .81 Mach. A/D 44-8 was not incorporated and would have prevented this occurrence.

8. June 10,1994. (FO) The slats extended while the airplane was in cruise flight without movement of the flap/slat handle. Confirmed slat cable rigging was out of tolerance. A/D 51-29 was not incorporated and would have prevented this occurrence.

"The underlined sentences," Marder said, "are what Mr. Barker omitted from the document he gave you. After the first slats incident, the FAA issued an Airworthiness Directive to change cockpit controls. The airlines had a year to comply. Some did it immediately, others didn't. As you can see, the subsequent incidents all occurred in aircraft which had not yet made the change."

"Well, not quite..."

"Please let me finish. In December of 1992, we discovered a second issue. The cables running to the slats sometimes became slack. Maintenance crews weren't catching the problem. So we issued a second Service Bulletin, and added a tension measurement device, so ground crews could check more easily whether cable rigging was within spec. That solved it. By December, everything was resolved."

"Clearly not, Mr. Marder," Malone said, pointing to the list "You have more incidents in 1993 and in 1994."

"Only on foreign carriers," Marder said. "You see that notation, DO and FO? That stands for 'domestic operator' or 'foreign operator.' The domestic operators must make the changes called for in the FAA Airworthiness Directives. But foreign operators aren't under FAA jurisdiction. And they don't always make the changes. Since 1992, all incidents have involved foreign carriers that hadn't made the retrofits."

Malone scanned the list. "So you knowingly allow carriers to fly unsafe airplanes? You just sit back and let it happen, is that what you're telling me?"

Marder sucked in his breath. Casey thought he was going to blow, but he didn't. "Ms. Malone, we build airplanes, we don't operate them. If Air Indonesia or Pakistani Air won't follow the Airworthiness Directives, we can't force them to."

"All right. If all you do is build airplanes, let's talk about how well you do that," Malone said. "Looking at this list here, you had how many design changes on the slats? Eight?"

Casey thought, She doesn't understand. She's not listening. She doesn't get what she's being told.

"No. Two retrofits," Marder said.

"But there are eight incidents here. You'd agree to that..."

"Yes," Marder said irritably, "but we're not talking about incidents, we're talking about ADs, and there are only two ADs." He was getting angry, his face flushed.

"I see," Malone said. "So. Norton had two design problems on the slats for this aircraft."

"There were two corrections."

"Two corrections of your original erroneous design," Malone said. "And that's just for slats. We haven't gotten to the flaps or the rudder or the fuel tanks and the rest of the airplane. Just in this one tiny system, two corrections. Didn't you test this aircraft, before you sold it to unsuspecting customers?"

"Of course we tested it," Marder said, through clenched teeth. "But you have to realize - "

"What I realize," Malone said, "is that people have died because of your design errors, Mr. Marder. That plane is a deathtrap. And you don't seem to care about that at all."

"Oh for Christ's fucking sake!" Marder threw up his hands and jumped out of his seat. He stomped around the room. "I can't fucking believe this!"

It was almost too easy, Jennifer thought. In fact, it was too easy. She was suspicious of Marder's histrionic outburst. During the interview, she'd formed a different impression of this man. He wasn't the assistant principal. He was much smarter than that. She realized it from watching his eyes. Most people made an involuntary eye movement when asked a question. They looked up, down, or sideways. But Marder's gaze was steady, calm. He was completely in control.

And she suspected he was in control now, deliberately losing his temper. Why?

She didn't really care. Her goal from the beginning had been to blow these people out. To make them worried enough to pass her on to the president. Jennifer wanted Marty Reardon to interview the president.

This was vital to her story. It would undermine the segment if Newsline made serious charges against the N-22, and the company fielded a middle-level flunky or a press nerd to respond. But if she could get the president on camera, her whole segment attained a new level of credibility.

She wanted the president.

Things were going well.