Right Place. Right Time.

By FireWire

Story No. 15

During a July monsoon, lightning strikes a commercial airliner off the coast of Thailand with 197 people on board. There is one survivor.

A man wearing a baseball cap, t-shirt, shorts, and sandals is driving an ancient pick-up truck slowly south along a beach trail parallel to the Gulf of Thailand on the Thai side of the Thai‑Cambodia border. His destination is a Thai Army outpost where he will check in and refuel before crossing into the Cambodian jungle.

My thanks to the Cardamom Mountains for dumping all this water on me tonight. If it wasn’t for them, it would be just a regular monsoon torrential downpour. This truck has spoilers on the windshield wipers, hydraulic bump stops, and high-level air intakes to prevent hydrolocking, so I can sit back and enjoy the drive.

A sudden explosion rocks the truck causing him to slam on the breaks and come to a complete stop.

What was that! It sounded like it was on top of me! He looks around, but doesn’t see anything unusual. It must have come from Gulf. He reaches under the seat beside him, takes out a pair of thermal night vision binoculars, and scans the Gulf, but the heavy rain makes it difficult to see. He turns the truck so it faces the Gulf and props his elbows on the dashboard to steady the binoculars. He sees debris about 200 yards out.

He puts the binoculars down and sits back. Very strange. It couldn’t have been a boat. I would have seen it before it exploded and the explosion was above me, so it had to be a plane.

He starts to put the binoculars back under the seat. He hesitates and decides to take one more look to try to determine what caused the explosion. Propping his elbows on the dashboard again, he strains to look through the rain-scattered light. He concentrates on one area of debris at a time. He stops.

That looks like a human head. He closes his eyes and then opens then. That is a human head, and he’s alive, otherwise he wouldn’t be bobbing up and down on top of the water like that. I’ll have to go out there and try to save him. It’s only a couple of hundred yards. Whoever is out there is probably disoriented and can’t see the shore. I’ll turn on the super bright headlights. He flips a switch. The super bright fog lights. He flips a switch. The super bright light bars. He flips a switch. He waits. No reaction from the person in the Gulf.

The man gets out of the truck, takes off his hat and shirt, and leaves them in the truck. He turns on the motor and locks the truck with the keyless remote. He takes off his sandals, attaches the keyless remote’s carabiner to the sandals, puts the sandals under the truck, runs to the water, dives in, and begins to swim.

A lot of debris. I can’t tell much about it in the rain and dark. Maybe it was debris and not a head bobbing up-and-down.

He pauses and shouts, “Hello. Anybody out there? Hello. Hello”

This is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

He continues swimming, and then stops to check on his truck lights. I can barely see them, so this is the end of the search.

“Hello,” he shouts. “Is anybody out there? Is anybody out there? Hello. Hello.”

He hears a voice. “I’m over here. Help me. Help me. Please help me!”

“Keep talking,” the man shouts. “Keep talking so I can find you.”

The man draws closer to the voice until he locates it. It’s a young woman.”

“Were you thrown from plane too?” the woman asks.

“No. I happened to be riding by when I heard the plane explode. I saw you with my binoculars. We must get to shore as soon as possible. Can you dog paddle by kicking your legs?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We are going to lock arms and dog paddle to shore. It’s not far. You can see my truck lights. Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Lock your arm in mine and start kicking.”

As they approach the shore, the man changes their direction to an angle away from truck and warns the woman not to look directly at the truck lights.

They make it to shore and walk quickly to the truck. The man retrieves his keyless remote from under the truck, hands his sandals to the woman, and tells her to walk around the back of the truck.

Once they are in the truck, the man asks, “Are you cold?”

“No. Not really. Just soaked through and through. Where are we?”

“In Thailand. On the Southwest edge of the Gulf of Thailand. Near the Cambodian border.”

They sit in silence listening to the rain for a few moments until the woman says, “I’m still trying to collect myself. Trying to make sense of what happened to me. I was dozing in the plane trying to put the storm out of my mind when I heard screaming. I opened my eyes and there was huge bang at the window beside me. I felt myself being sucked out of the plane, flying through the air, and landing in the water. It was terrifying. I was afraid that no one would find me.”

“Fortunately I was in the right place at the right time,” the man says. “Had I either been ahead or behind of where we are now, I wouldn’t have been in a position to use my binoculars to see you. Apparently there is an extreme drop-off just a few hundred yards off shore, so the plane sank immediately instead of crashing.”

“After a few moments, the woman says, “My name is Lorraine Davis.”

“Mine’s Mike.”

“Nice to meet you Mike.”

She pauses.

“What’s your last name?”

“You’re better off if you don’t know anything about me. I’ll hand you over to someone who will take you to the U.S. Embassy in Bangkok, and once that’s done, we won’t see each other again. It’s time to leave.”

He turns the truck around and starts down the trail.

They travel in silence until Lorraine asks, “What kind of gun is on the rack behind us?”

“A short-barrel sniper rifle.”

“What kind of guns are over your head?”

“An AR-15 automatic rifle and a sawed-off shotgun.”

“Are you a hunter?”

Mike doesn’t answer. They drive on without talking.

When they arrive at the Thai Army outpost gate, Mike holds up his identification card. The soldier scans it and gives a signal to open the gate. They pass through the gate and drive to the outpost headquarters. Mike parks his truck in front of the main door.

Mike points his keyless remote at the truck ceiling on Lorraine’s side and presses it four times in quick succession. The roof slowly opens part way and stops. He reaches into the ceiling opening and takes out a white envelope.

“It’s going to cost money to get you to the embassy,” he says.

“I’ll pay you back.”

He takes all the money out of the envelope and hands it to Lorraine.

“Here is three hundred dollars in Thai baht. It’s all I have. You shouldn’t need all of it, but just in case. The exchange rate is about thirty baht to the dollar.”

She takes the money.

“Is your bra dry?” he asks.

She puts the money on her lap, lifts the bottom of her blouse, puts her hand under the blouse, and feels her bra.

“Yes.”

“Good. Split the money and put half in each side of your bra.”

Lorraine looks at him for several seconds.

Mike turns his head and looks out his side window.

Lorraine unbuttons her blouse, puts the money in her bra, and buttons her blouse.

“Done,” she says.

Mike reaches back into the ceiling opening, takes out a canvas bag, unzips it, and takes out one of the packages of U.S. one-hundred-dollar bills bound by mustard colored bands. He counts twenty of the bills, removes them from the package, puts the package back in the canvas bag, puts the canvas bag back into the ceiling opening, and closes the opening.

“Two thousand should get you to the U.S. Embassy. This money doesn’t belong to me. I’ll figure out how to deal with that later.”

“Who does it belong to?” Lorraine asks. “I’ll pay them back.”

He puts the money into the white envelope. “You have to be discreet in these matters. It wouldn’t do just to hand over two thousand dollars without it being in an envelope. He puts the envelope in his pocket.”

He hands her his hat. “We are going into the headquarters building. Cover as much of your bra as you can with the hat until we’re out of the rain.”

Once they are on the porch of the headquarters building, Mike opens the door for Lorraine and follows her inside. After a short conversation in Thai between Mike and the soldier on duty, the soldier makes a phone call, hangs up, and nods to Mike. Mike tells Lorraine the man they are looking for is at his house on the parameter of the outpost. They go back to the truck and drive to the house of Colonel Ayutthaya.

At Colonel Ayutthaya’s house, they park beside a military vehicle.

Mike says, “For some reason, the Colonel’s house is set back a good distance from the road. Same procedure as before. Cover as much of your bra as you can with the hat until we’re out of the rain.”

Lorraine takes off Mike’s sandals, puts them in her hand, opens the truck door, and says, “Let’s go.”

They leave the truck and dash to Colonel Ayutthaya’s front porch. Mike watches as Lorraine puts his sandals back on. That woman can run. She’s flat-out faster than I am.

Mike knocks on the front door. After several minutes, a woman comes to the door. Mike tells the woman in Thai his name is Mike and Colonel Ayutthaya is expecting him. The woman motions them inside, says a few words to Mike, and walks away.

“She is the housekeeper,” Mike says. “Take a seat in this room and wait until I’m finished talking to Colonel Ayutthaya.”

Lorraine nods.

The housekeeper returns and motions them to follow her. Lorraine sits down in a chair in the living room, and Mike follows the housekeeper to Colonel Ayutthaya’s office.

Lorraine sits quietly for a while, then stands up and begins to walk around the room examining the paintings on the walls. She had seen Thai paintings before, but nothing as beautiful as these.

“Do you like them?” a voice behind her asks.

Lorraine turns around and sees an attractive woman about her age holding a towel.

“I like them,” she answers.

The woman smiles. “My father enjoys collecting art. Not a hobby many military men have. As you can see the wall is full, so to make room for a new picture, he has to loan an old one to a friend or relative. I’m Kanda, Colonel Ayutthaya’s daughter. Would you like a towel to dry off with?”

Taking the towel, Lorraine says, “Thank you. I was so busy admiring the paintings that I forgot I was dripping wet.”

“My father told me about your tragic experience—the plane and all. I will accompany you to the U.S. Embassy in Bangkok in the morning. Would you like to go to the guest bedroom and change into some dry clothes? We are about the same size. You can borrow some of mine.”

“I would, but first I must thank the man I came with. The man who save my life.”

“Of course,” Kanda says. “While we wait, I’ll tell you what our journey to Bangkok will be like. We will wake early tomorrow morning in order to catch the bus to Bangkok. Because we are in the middle of nowhere, the bus will stop often to pick up people on the side of the road with the chickens and fruit they are taking to the local market to sell. We have to pass through two markets before we get on the main road to Bangkok. After that, we will only stop at towns along the way. The entire trip should take twelve hours unless the bus brakes down. Then we will have to wait an hour or so for a replacement bus.

“Does the bus brake down often?”

“Not too often. When we get to Bangkok, we will stay in a hotel near the Embassy. Have you been to Bangkok before?”

“No. Is Bangkok safe?” Lorraine asks.

“Yes. Many tourists visit Bangkok. We may have an hour or so after we arrive and check into the hotel to walk around and see the sights. Would you like to do that?”

“Sure. Sounds like fun.”

“Do you have any questions about our trip?”

“Not at the moment. By the way, your English is excellent.”

“Thank you. Would you like something to drink while you wait? A soda?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Kanda leaves the room. While Lorraine is looking at the pictures, Mike enters the room.

“Did you talk to Kanda, Colonel Ayutthaya’s daughter?” he asks Lorraine.

“Yes. She told me about our trip tomorrow.”

Kanda comes into the room and hands the soda to Lorraine. “Would you like something to drink?” she asks Mike.

“No thanks. I have to get on the road.”

He says to Lorraine, “The Colonel will arrange for you to call the States tonight so you can let your family know you are OK. Someone from his headquarters in Bangkok will go to the Embassy tomorrow morning and tell them to expect you. He is detailing two soldiers to drive you and Kanda to Bangkok.”

Lorraine hands Mike his cap. She takes the sandals off her feet and hands them to him.

After a pause, she looks him directly in the eyes and says, “I don’t know who you are, where you’re going, or why, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving my life tonight. You could have driven on by without stopping, but you didn’t. You are the most gallant man I have ever met . . . I’ll never forget you.”

Kanda watches as they stand there staring at each other. She doesn’t see the message passing between them. A message that strikes deep into each of their hearts. A message so powerful and full of emotion that it changes them forever.

After a few moments, Mike says, “We are in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I give you my word, Lorraine Davis. We will meet again.”

He turns and walks out of the house.

Kanda says, “Would you like change into some dry clothes now? Then we can return and my father will call your home so you can tell everyone know you are safe.”

Lorraine smiles and nods.

Lorraine and Kanda go to her father’s office and wait while he dials a telephone number. After a few minutes, he hands the phone to Lorraine and says something to Kanda.

“You can call your home now,” Kanda says to Lorraine.

Kanda motions to her father, and they leave the room.

Lorraine dials and gets the answering machine.

“Hi Mom. I’m calling you from a house in Thailand that belongs to a Colonel in the Thai Army. The most terrible thing happened just a few hours ago. The plane I was flying on from Australia crashed off the coast of Thailand during a monsoon thunderstorm, and I was the only survivor. Those poor people I was flying with . . . all dead. It’s a miracle I am still alive. I was sucked out of the plane into the water right before it crashed. If it wasn’t for a man named Mike who was driving by the instant the plane hit the water, I would not be alive. He swam out to where I was in the pitch-black dark with rain coming down so hard and violently that I was overwhelmed. He locked arms with me, and we dog paddled to shore. He brought me to this Thai Army base and arranged for me to get to the U.S. Embassy. I will be there day-after-tomorrow.”

Lorraine pauses for a few seconds.

“You know, Mom, just as Mike was leaving, his eyes made me a promise. A promise I can’t wait to keep. Talk to you when I get to the Embassy. Love you.”

Lorraine hangs up the phone and walks back to the living room and finds Kanda and her father sitting on a sofa.

“Where you able to speak with your parents?” Kanda asks.

“No. I got the answering machine. My father is out of the country on business, so I left a message for my mother. I doubt if she had heard the news about the plane crash prior to my phone message saying I was safe. Does your father know the name of the man who brought me here?”

Kanda turns to her father and, after some back-and-forth in Thai, she turns back to Lorraine and says, “My father received orders from his headquarters in Bangkok that a man would be arriving tonight and he was to provide any assistance the man might require. He says the man had a special identification card with only a picture on it. That’s all my father knows.”

Lorraine has been home for six months when she receives a letter from the Treasury Department in Washington, D.C. requesting an attestation from her to confirm that to the best of her knowledge there were no other survivors from the plane crash. This statement would allow the release of death gratuity funds to the beneficiaries of Armed Force members on the flight in transit to a duty station. Since Lorraine works in Washington, she decides making the statement in person is the easiest way and is the least she can do for those who died. She calls the telephone number on the letter and confirms she can be at the Treasury Department at the suggested appointment time.

On the day of the appointment, Lorraine shows the letter she received to the attendant at the front desk of the Treasury Department. The attendant calls the number on the letter. After a brief conversation, he hangs up and tells Lorraine someone will be down shortly to escort her to the interview location.

While she is waiting, her thoughts, as they often do, return to the night of the plane crash, move swiftly forward to her rescue, and immediately to Mike. He was a modern-day knight in shining armor. But all those guns, all that money. Please God. He is a good man. Please don’t let anything bad happen to him.

“Are you Miss Davis?”

Lorraine looks up. “Yes.”

“I’m your escort. Please come with me.”

The escort takes Lorraine to an office. He asks her to be seated while he gets the person who will be interviewing her.

A woman comes into the office.

“Good afternoon Lorraine. My name is Janet Devon. We appreciate your taking the time to come to Treasury and give an attestation regarding the crash. Unfortunately, the woman who was scheduled to interview you is out sick today. We know you don’t have time to fiddle–faddle, so please follow me, and I will find someone to take your attestation.”

Lorraine follows Janet to a cubicle and takes a seat while Janet sits down at her computer.

After looking at her computer screen for several minutes, Janet shakes her head. “Everyone is booked.”

She puts on a headset. After a few moments she says, “Grace, this is Janet in admin. I have a lady who was scheduled to meet with Kathy, but Kathy is on sick leave today. Is there anybody in your office who has the authority to sign an attestation? It won’t take long. I can take her attestation, but I don’t have the authority to sign it. I just need someone to witness the interview and to sign the attestation.”

She turns to Lorraine. “She is looking for someone. I apologize for this delay, but we will find someone shortly. All I have to do is read you a brief statement and you sign it.”

Janet turns her attention back to the computer. “Thank you so much Grace. We will be right over.”

“Follow me Lorraine. Grace said a special agent with the authority to sign an attestation returned from overseas this morning. He is in his office now. I’ll grab the statement, and we will go to the third floor.”

Lorraine and Janet go to an office on the third floor where a man with his back to them is looking at his computer.

Janet knocks on the door to get the man’s attention.

As the man turns towards them, Grace says, “Mr. Chandler, this is . . . ”

The man finishes her sentence. “the right place and the right time, Lorraine Davis.”

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