Chapter 5 - Forty Minutes
I wanted to break Douglas Martinez's jaw.
Nine years running an organization built around power had taught me exactly how easy violence was.
Norah had taught me when not to use it.
I released him.
“Start talking.”
Douglas straightened his shirt.
“Aegis Meridian isn't trying to crash us.”
“That's supposed to make me feel better?”
“They need something aboard.”
“The drive.”
“No.”
He looked toward economy.
“They need Lan.”
“Why?”
“Because she knows where Evelyn is.”
I stared at him.
“You said Evelyn was alive.”
“She was six months ago.”
Was.
One word could destroy a man.
“Explain.”
Douglas lowered his voice.
“My company wasn't always independent. Aegis funded us when we were a startup. They wanted civilian applications for military navigation technology.”
“You helped them.”
“Yes.”
The admission came without excuse.
“Then I discovered what they had done.”
“And suddenly you grew a conscience?”
“No.”
His eyes met mine.
“I grew a daughter.”
That stopped me.
“She died three years ago.”
His voice changed.
“Aegis covered up a software defect. The autonomous vehicle she was testing didn't fail randomly. They knew the flaw existed.”
For the first time, I saw something beneath the arrogance.
Grief.
I knew its face.
“So you started helping Evelyn.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't she contact me?”
“She tried.”
I thought of every unknown number I had ignored.
Every security protocol.
Every enemy I assumed was trying to reach me.
Douglas continued.
“She believed your organization was compromised.”
That was impossible.
Then I remembered the fake dispatch instructions.
The information about Norah.
My old identity.
Maybe impossible wasn't a useful word anymore.
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
The aircraft jolted.
I turned toward the cockpit.
“Forty minutes?”
Douglas nodded.
“The corrupted control module is progressive. Eventually it will begin rejecting valid input.”
“Can it be disabled?”
“Physically.”
“Where?”
He hesitated.
That told me everything.
“Somewhere we can't reach easily.”
“Avionics bay.”
I cursed.
Douglas nodded.
“There is an access point beneath the forward cabin.”
“You're coming.”
His face changed.
“I don't know aircraft hardware.”
“You know Aegis.”
“I run software companies.”
“Congratulations. Tonight you're an electrician.”
I returned to the cockpit and explained.
Rachel hated the plan.
That meant it was probably our only plan.
We needed a diversion airport.
Weather narrowed our options.
Fuel narrowed them further.
System instability narrowed them again.
We chose Shannon.
The aircraft had to survive long enough to reach Ireland.
Douglas and Jillian accessed the forward electronics compartment while I remained with Rachel.
Minutes passed.
Then Douglas called.
“We found the module.”
“Can you isolate it?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe isn't useful.”
“There are three identical control units.”
“Then identify the compromised one.”
“How?”
I looked at the repeating data spike.
“Wait eleven seconds.”
“What?”
“Just wait.”
I counted.
Nine.
Ten.
Eleven.
The reading jumped.
“Now.”
Douglas shouted, “Middle unit flashed.”
“There.”
“If I disconnect it, we lose redundancy.”
“If you don't, we lose the airplane.”
Silence.
Then:
“Disconnecting.”
Every cockpit display went black.
Rachel said one word I hoped Norah didn't know.
Then emergency instruments illuminated.
The controls became heavier.
But stable.
No repeating spike.
No unexplained inputs.
Douglas came back.
“Did it work?”
I moved the controls slightly.
The aircraft responded.
“Yes.”
A cheer erupted somewhere behind him.
“Don't celebrate yet,” I said.
We still had the unknown aircraft nearby.
And we still had to land.
Then Norah's voice came through the interphone.
“Dad?”
I stared at Rachel.
She almost smiled.
Jillian had apparently allowed her to call.
“Hey, bug.”
“Are you flying the plane?”
“Kind of.”
“That's cool.”
I laughed despite everything.
“Stay buckled.”
“Okay.”
A pause.
Then she whispered:
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“The old lady gave me something.”
Lan.
“What?”
“She said Mommy wanted me to have it when we got to London.”
My smile vanished.
“What did she give you?”
“A key.”
The brass key I wore beneath my shirt suddenly felt very heavy.
I touched it.
“What kind?”
“Little silver one.”
“Norah, don't show it to anybody.”
“Okay.”
“Put it inside your teddy bear's zipper.”
“But Teddy doesn't have a zipper.”
I looked at the bear beside me.
Norah's bear.
Except—
I stared at it.
This wasn't Norah's teddy bear.
It looked almost identical.
Same worn brown fur.
Same missing stitching near one ear.
But Norah's bear had a tiny blue patch Evelyn had sewn onto its left paw.
This one didn't.
Somebody had switched them.
“Norah.”
“Yes?”
“Where's your teddy bear?”
“With me.”
My blood went cold.
“Look at the left paw.”
“Okay.”
“Is there a blue patch?”
Silence.
Then:
“No.”
Someone had switched both bears?
No.
There had only ever been one.
I looked at the toy in my hands.
Then at Rachel.
“Get Jillian.”
“What happened?”
I tore open the seam.
Inside wasn't stuffing.
There was a tiny electronic transmitter.
A tracker.
The cockpit went silent.
The unknown aircraft wasn't following our radar signature.
It was following us.
I crushed the device beneath my heel.
Immediately, the aircraft on radar changed course.
Rachel stared.
“They lost the signal.”
“Yes.”
But another thought was worse.
Someone had gotten close enough to Norah before boarding to switch her mother's teddy bear.
And only one stranger had spent time near us at the gate.
Lan Tran.
I called Jillian.
“Find Lan.”
A minute later, Jillian returned.
“She isn't with Norah.”
“Where is she?”
“We don't know.”
Again.
Another passenger disappearing aboard an aircraft with nowhere to disappear to.
Then Rachel pointed toward the cockpit camera.
A figure stood outside.
Lan.
She looked directly into the camera.
In one hand was the real teddy bear.
In the other was a phone.
She raised the screen toward us.
May you like
Four words were written on it.
EVELYN IS ON THIS PLANE.
