"It seems that the conditions got worse down there," I said to Mitchell, who was busy reading our local newspaper.
He looked up at me. "Apparently there's been a flood back home," he told me.
"My God," I said. "Did anybody die?"
"Luckily not," he said. "The low laying parts of the town were affected, the river Exe has burst its banks again. The whole town centre is 1m under water."
"Here, let me take a --"
Suddenly there was a large thud and a low crackling sound.
"Crap! What the hell was that?" Mitchell said.
"Dunno, have a look at the starboard engine. The port engine looks -- damn. Damn!!!"
"Problem?"
"Yes - THE ENGINE IS ON FIRE!!!!!"
"Are we gonna die?"
"No," I said, sweat pouring from my forehead. Maybe we were going to die. "Okay. Grab gthe yoke, and pull up to try and level out. I'll try to sort out the engine. Understood? Let's go."
Mitchell grabbed the yoke and pulled as hard as he could. "Howie's" nose began to level out of the dive she was in. I could hear the body creaking. We would either crash into the ground or "Howie" would rip herself apart.
"Port engine off," I called out. "I'll try to re-start." I pressed the starter for the port engine. It grinded and creaked. Nothing happened. The propellor was spinning madly. The ground loomed ever closer. "Quick, deploy the landing gear," I told Mitchell. He pulled the lever. Nothing happened.
We were about to hit the fog. "Now," Mitchell said, "if we do die, I want you to know that you've been a great friend."
"Thanks, you too," I said. "No. We can't die."
"I don't seem to share your optimism at this moment." The yokes began to shudder.
"About the landing gear," I said, "it's not coming down. Manual landing gear deployment isn't working either. It's time for a belly landing."
"Here goes," Mitchell said. The plane was shaking violently. We were feet above the ground. This was it. We grabbed the yokes and closed our eyes.
Leg 6 concluded next time..... IF there is a next time.....
excellent story, cant wait till the next part (indeed if there is 1)!!! 
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