The impact was a thunderclap of shattering plexiglass and mangled metal. The smell of roasted fowl and jet fuel flooded the cabin. Then, the silence that followed was worse than the explosion. Both engines had gone quiet.
“Let’s go,” Sully said.
“My engine’s dead,” Skiles said, his voice tight. Sully- Hazana en el Hudson
Sully walked the aisle twice, checking every seat. The fuselage was filling with black, freezing water. He grabbed a flashlight and went back. When he was certain the plane was empty, he waded to the door.
Sully watched the computer pilots try. They crashed into a neighborhood every time. The impact was a thunderclap of shattering plexiglass
“Evacuate,” Sully ordered.
The doors blew. Slides became rafts. Men in suits and women in heels waded into the ice. The river, which had tried to kill them, now held them gently. Ferries and police boats converged like guardian angels. Both engines had gone quiet
He was right. The black box proved it. He had 208 seconds from the bird strike to the water. He had made 35 critical decisions. He had gotten 155 people out alive.