PART 2
Laura reached the front, and the cockpit door opened. The sharp scent of hot avionics, stale coffee, and raw tension filled the cramped space. Captain Andrew Vance sat in the left seat, his face pale and focused entirely on the flight display.
Beside him, the first officer lay unconscious in the right seat, an oxygen mask strapped over his face.
Andrew glanced back at Laura, taking in her casual travel clothes. “You have military flight experience?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What airframes?”
“F-16 Falcons.”
The captain hesitated. “When was the last time you were at the controls?”
Laura paused. “Eighteen months ago.”
Andrew set his jaw. “I need current proficiency, not memories.”
Before Laura could respond, a sharp vibration shuddered through the airframe. It wasn’t atmospheric turbulence; it was an unnatural, rhythmic shutter.
Laura’s eyes darted straight to the primary flight display. “How long has the control column been oscillating like that?”
Andrew frowned. “About ten minutes.”
Laura stepped into the cockpit, her eyes sweeping over the instruments. “Walk me through it.”
Andrew pointed to the status screens. “The autopilot disengaged without warning. The flight control computer started throwing contradictory error codes, and then my first officer complained of sudden numbness in his arm right before he collapsed.”
Laura looked closely at the unconscious co-pilot. “Did he eat the same crew meal as you?”
“No. He brought his own thermos of coffee from the terminal.”
Laura’s instincts flared. “Has anyone else on the crew shown symptoms?”
“No. Just him.”
Laura studied the digital readouts. Though months had passed since her last sortie, her tactical training took over instantly. She analyzed the data, cross-referenced the instrument readings, and listened to the engine pitch.
The jet banked slightly to the right on its own. Andrew grabbed the yoke to correct it.
“Don’t fight it,” Laura said firmly.
“I have to keep us level—”
“You’re fighting a corrupted input signal,” Laura cut in. “The flight control computer is fighting your manual input.”
Andrew looked at her. “How do you know that?”
“Because I’ve felt a flight control override failure before,” Laura said quietly.
Andrew made a split-second decision to trust her. He reached up and isolated one of the secondary flight control channels. The airframe jolted once, but the harsh vibration immediately smoothed out.
Andrew looked at her in genuine surprise. “You were right.”
Laura didn’t celebrate. She knew they had only solved a fraction of the problem.
The weather radar ahead showed an intense Atlantic storm system. Their fuel margin was tight, and the first officer was still unresponsive.
Just then, a physician who had been called from the passenger cabin stepped up to the cockpit doorway. “Captain, I need to tell you something. I just examined your first officer. This isn’t a medical emergency—his symptoms suggest acute chemical toxicity.”
A heavy silence descended on the flight deck.
Laura looked toward the center console where the co-pilot’s thermos had been sitting. It was gone.
“Where’s his coffee thermos?” Laura asked sharply.
The lead flight attendant looked around, confused. “It was right here a few minutes ago.”
An icy chill ran down Laura’s spine. This wasn’t a series of unfortunate mechanical glitches. Someone had deliberately incapacitated the co-pilot, and the evidence had just been removed.
“Lock the cockpit door,” Laura commanded.
Andrew looked at her. “You think this was intentional?”
“I think someone made sure your co-pilot couldn’t fly this plane,” Laura replied coldly.
As they began their emergency descent toward an airport in northern Spain, another warning chime sounded. The primary hydraulic system for the right landing gear began losing pressure rapidly.
Then, the cockpit door entry keypad chimed. Someone outside was trying to override the lock.
Andrew checked the security monitor. “It’s Richard Sterling.”
Laura’s eyes narrowed. “Who is he?”
“Our airline’s Director of Flight Operations. He was traveling in first class.”
The lead flight attendant’s voice came over the cabin interphone, sounding panicked. “Captain, don’t open the door! Mr. Sterling is demanding access to the cockpit, claiming he has executive authority!”
It all clicked into place for Laura: the sudden system glitches, the poisoned co-pilot, the missing evidence, and now an executive demanding entry to the flight deck during a critical emergency.
The flight attendant’s voice came back over the interphone: “Captain, the doctor found a small plastic vial cap under the co-pilot’s seat.”
Andrew looked out at the rain-slicked runway emerging through the dark storm clouds below. “We have to get this plane on the ground now.”
Laura stepped into the right seat, sliding into the co-pilot’s position and strapping herself in. “Land the plane first. Handle the rest on the ground.”
The jet entered its final approach through heavy rain and crosswinds. As Andrew cycled the landing gear lever, only two green lights illuminated on the panel. The right main gear failed to show a down-and-locked indication.
Andrew took a deep breath. “If that gear collapses on touchdown, we slide off the runway.”
Laura placed her hands on the secondary controls, her touch steady and precise. “I’m backing you up.”
