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This was when Devon’s talent as a pilot and his ability to keep cool under pressure were invaluable.
Devon nodded. “How do we get this bird down in one piece?”
Adam fought the yoke, thankful for all those hours lifting in the gym. “We try to line up for a ten-mile final at least. We don’t have flaps, so shallow approach. Keep speed up so we don’t stall.”
He hoped that would work. The only time he’d cross-controlled an airplane was when he’d slipped Betty for a steep approach or flew one of the bush planes. “Opposite rudder on this thing is making me a little nervous.”
Devon frowned. “That makes two of us, but I like the plan.”
“We’re very light. Reference speed with full flaps would be 115 knots. Add twenty for no flaps and five for the slip; we should look for 140 over the fence. Cycle the gear now. We don’t want surprises.”
He waited, maintaining full force on the yoke while Devon tried to lower the gear. He felt the rumble, and his stomach dipped with relief.
“Gear down, three green,” Devon said.
“Thank goodness for small favors. OK, call approach.”
“Vegas approach, Lars 63, stating intentions.”
“Lars 63, go ahead.”
“Lars 63 will line up for runway 8 left, ten miles out. We do have three greens and no flaps, so we’ll come in a little hot.”
“Lars 63, you are cleared for approach to any runway, contact tower on one-one-niner decimal niner. Good luck.”
“Thank you for all your help, to tower, Lars 63. Tower, Lars 63 with you, lining up for 8 left.”
“Lars 63 Las Vegas tower, you have the airport and you are cleared to land, emergency equipment standing by.”
Adam started a shallow turn to the left while keeping an eye on the airport.
Devon scanned the instruments. “I’ll call the speeds. Let me know what you need on the throttles.”
“OK, we’re coming about, on heading pull back 10 percent on theright and 5 on the left.”
They started their descent.
Devon pulled back the throttles, maintaining speed and altitude. The stricken bird was actually flying a stabilized approach.
“We’re drifting left. Give me 5 percent more on the left engine,” Adam said.
Devon complied.
“That’s good.”
“One…hundred,” the robotic voice of the radar altimeter announced.
Adam swallowed hard. “Here we go. When we get in ground effect, go to idle.”
The G550 crossed the numbers.
“Engines to idle,” Devon announced.
“Fifty…forty…thirty…” the voice counted down.
Adam gripped the yoke tighter. The runway seemed to rush up to meet him.
Hold her steady.