Sully looked at the Hudson, shimmering in the sun. “I was thinking,” he said, “that I wasn’t ready to let anyone die. And sometimes, that’s enough.”
Sully watched the computer pilots try. They crashed into a neighborhood every time.
Sully pulled the nose up. He didn’t fight the river; he caressed it. He held the controls like they were made of glass. Flaps two. Maintain 120 knots. Don’t stall. Don’t sink.
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