"B3901, B3901, please land on Runway 3; repeat, please land on Runway 3." A clear voice from ground control came through the communication device.
"B3901 understands, B3901 is preparing to land," Zhang Ziwen responded calmly, already switching from automatic to manual control during his circling.
"…B3901, good luck..." The superfluous words came through the communications device, the ground control personnel's voice wavering with emotion.
"Thank you." Zhang Ziwen smiled. He glanced down at the window. There were quite a few vehicles parked on both sides of Runway 3: police cars, ambulances, fire trucks, all at the ready. The red and blue lights were flashing and reflecting, anxiously waiting for the ultimate moment. Everyone was praying, praying that the Boeing 777 could safely return to the ground. Above the Boeing 777, three fighter jets were circling, faithfully accompanying Zhang Ziwen, who was about to land.
