Their current position was still over the middle of the Black Sea, an hour and a half's flight from the nearest airport.
With two engines lost, forget flying for an hour and a half—they wouldn't last a minute and a half!
While Fang Chenyi was deep in thought, Xiaozhou was already in a full-blown panic.
"Chairman! Chairman! The last engine's on fire! What do we do?! What do we do?! God, if only I had a parachute right now!!"
Ignoring Xiaozhou, Fang Chenyi focused on figuring out what to do.
"Southern Airlines 9527, tower calling. Please report your current situation. Repeat, Southern Airlines 9527, tower calling. Please report your current situation."
The voice on the radio kept calling, but Fang Chenyi's hands were locked on the controls; he had no spare attention to respond. As for his co-pilot, Xiaozhou, he seemed to have been scared stiff. He was just muttering incessantly, as if in prayer.
