"None so far. Ah, you're a '37, you carry a sheer monitor. You got it made. Have to baby sit some 0's and '27's. May be a while."
"Roger Dallas. 125 40, 215 40. Maintaining 12 point 5."
"Roger 1137."
The control tower at DFW airport was busier than normal. The dozen or so large green radar screens glowed eerily and made the air traffic controllers appear pallid under the haunting light emitted from around the consoles. Severe weather patterns, afternoon Texas thunderstorms had intermittently closed the airport forcing a planes to hold in a 120 mile pattern over Dallas and Fort Worth.
Many of the tower crew had been at their stations for 2 hours past their normal quitting time due to street traffic delays and highway pileups that had kept shift replacements from arriving on time. Planes were late coming in, late departing, connections were being missed. Tensions were high on the ground and in the air by both the airline personnel and travelers alike. It was a chaotic day at Dallas Fort Worth International Airport.
"Chad? Cm'ere," said Paul Gatwick, the newest and youngest, and least burnt out of the day shift flight controllers.
Shift supervisor Chad Phillips came right over. "What you got?"
He asked looking at the radar screen.
"See these three bogies?" Paul pointed at three spots with his finger.
"Bogies? What are those symbols?"
"They just appeared, out of nowhere. I don't think they're there. And over here," he pointed, "that was Delta 210. It's gone." Paul spoke calmly, in the professional manner he was trained. He looked up at Chad, awaiting instructions.