Chapter 2 - The Name in the Report
Rebecca was on her feet before Charles moved.
Marlene reached the cockpit first.
Daniel sat rigid in the left seat, one hand pressed against his chest. Sweat shone along his hairline.
Logan gripped the controls.
“He said it was indigestion.”
Rebecca crouched beside Daniel.
“Look at me.”
He tried.
His lips had lost their color.
“Beck.”
“How long?”
He swallowed.
“Since before departure.”
Anger flashed through her, sharp and useless.
She pushed it aside.
“Marlene, bring the medical kit and oxygen. Logan, declare a medical emergency and request vectors to the nearest suitable airport.”
Logan looked at her.
“Who are you to—”
Daniel made a terrible, shallow sound.
His head dropped forward.
Everything narrowed.
Rebecca supported his shoulders while Marlene returned. Together, they freed him from his harness and moved him into the forward cabin, where there was room to assess him.
He was breathing.
Barely.
Marlene connected with the ground medical support service while Rebecca followed the physician’s directions and helped prepare the emergency equipment.
Charles hovered several feet away.
“What is happening?”
“Possible cardiac emergency,” Rebecca said. “Sit down and fasten your seat belt.”
He didn’t move.
She looked up.
“Now, Mr. Whitmore.”
Something in her voice reached him.
He sat.
Nolan stood frozen beside his chair, phone forgotten at his side.
“Can I help?”
“Get Marlene the blankets. Then keep this aisle clear.”
He obeyed.
The jet shuddered again.
Rebecca looked toward the cockpit.
“Logan?”
No answer.
She stepped inside.
The younger pilot was breathing too quickly. His eyes darted between the displays and the windshield, where distant lightning illuminated a wall of clouds.
“I’m getting a control message.”
“What message?”
He pointed.
Rebecca read it.
Her stomach dropped.
For three years, she had seen those words in dreams.
A flight-control disagreement. An intermittent fault that could present as conflicting commands, depending on a particular chain of failures.
Not proof of the same problem.
But familiar enough to turn her blood cold.
“Keep flying the airplane,” she said. “Have you declared?”
“Yes.”
“What airport?”
“Wichita. They’re clearing us.”
“Good. Follow the checklist.”
“I am.”
But the checklist lay unopened beside his leg.
Rebecca touched the seat back.
“Logan. Look at me.”
His gaze snapped toward hers.
“One task at a time.”
Another chime sounded.
He flinched.
From the cabin, Charles appeared in the doorway.
“What’s wrong with my airplane?”
Rebecca kept her attention on Logan.
“Please return to your seat.”
Charles saw the alert.
Then he saw her face.
“You.”
The word came out quietly.
Rebecca turned.
Recognition had finally arrived.
“Rebecca Lane,” he said. “Mountain West Flight Six Fourteen.”
Logan looked between them.
Charles’s expression hardened.
“You’re the pilot who lost the aircraft.”
For one second, Rebecca couldn’t breathe.
She heard the impact again. Felt snow entering through broken metal. Remembered counting passengers in a field while her first officer lay silent beneath a rescue blanket.
Then she heard Daniel coughing in the cabin.
The present returned.
“I landed an aircraft with a control failure,” she said. “Thirty-nine people survived.”
“One person didn’t.”
“My first officer.”
The words cut more deeply because Charles delivered them without knowing his target.
His eyes shifted toward Logan.
“She should not be anywhere near these controls.”
Rebecca stepped away from the seat.
It was an instinct learned over three years: make herself smaller before somebody took something else.
Then the jet rolled unexpectedly.
Logan corrected too aggressively.
Loose glasses crashed in the galley.
Charles grabbed the doorframe.
Air traffic control called through the speaker.
Rebecca watched Logan’s trembling hand.
Watched his eyes lose focus.
She understood, with awful clarity, that being legally qualified and being capable in this moment had become different things.
“Logan,” she said, “I held a type rating in this aircraft. I’m out of currency, but I know this cockpit. Do you want assistance?”
He stared at her.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
Rebecca sat in Daniel’s empty seat and fastened the harness.
Behind her, Charles started to object.
She put on the headset.
“Sir, you can discuss my past when we reach the ground.”
May you like
Her hand steadied on the armrest.
“Until then, stop distracting your flight crew.”
