Chapter 3 - The Shadow in Hangar Seven
Hangar Seven was a cavernous structure of vaulted steel girders, industrial floodlights, and the overwhelming scent of hydraulic fluid, ozone, and jet fuel. Inside, the massive twin-engine wide-body aircraft assigned to Flight 417 sat tethered to yellow ground-power cables, its polished silver fuselage reflecting the harsh overhead lights.
A crew of ground technicians in high-visibility vests moved around the landing gear, completing final walk-around checklists. Daniel pulled his cap low over his brow, motioning for Maya to stay in the shadow of a row of mobile tool chests near the auxiliary maintenance office.
Inside the glass-walled office sat Frank Miller. The veteran maintenance supervisor was hunched over a steel desk, his head buried in his grease-stained hands. A half-empty bottle of antacids sat beside a crumpled binder.
Daniel opened the office door without knocking and stepped inside, shutting the latch behind him. ""Frank.""
The older man jumped up in terror, knocking his rolling stool backward against a bank of metal lockers. ""Hey! You can't be in here, this is a restricted—"" Frank stopped dead. His eyes drifted from Daniel's faded jacket to the unmistakable, razor-sharp gaze of the man who signed his paychecks. ""Mr... Mr. Carter?""
""You look terrible, Frank,"" Daniel said calmly, pulling up a chair and sitting down opposite the trembling mechanic. ""Worse than you did when we lost three engines in an ice storm over Helena twelve years ago.""
Frank’s face turned the color of chalk. His lips quivered as tears welled in his tired, bloodshot eyes. ""Daniel... oh God, Daniel. What have you done? Why are you dressed like that?""
""I wanted to see how our passengers were treated on a rainy morning,"" Daniel replied, leaning forward and placing both hands flat on the desk. ""Instead, I found out my oldest friend reassigned my seat to 1A on a jet with a sabotaged fuel manifold. Where is the real inspection sheet, Frank?""
Frank collapsed back against the lockers, burying his face in his hands as sobs wracked his chest. ""Victor came to my house on Sunday night, Daniel. He had photos of my grandson. He told me that if I didn't sign off on the avionics override and clear the aircraft for Chicago, my family would be ruined. He said it was just an insurance demonstration—that the plane would make an emergency landing in Omaha with no fatalities, just bad press to force a restructuring of Carter Aviation stock so a private equity syndicate could buy out your controlling shares!""
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""He lied to you, Frank,"" Daniel said with chilling precision. ""A rupture at thirty-one thousand feet in that specific manifold won't cause a controlled diversion. It creates an uncontainable engine fire that shears the hydraulic lines controlling the left wing flaps. It was designed to ensure zero survivors.""
Frank gasped for air, clutching his chest in horror. ""He... he wanted you dead. The original red-tag log... I couldn't bring myself to burn it. I hid it in the auxiliary avionics locker behind the spare turbine fan blades. The digital signature on the FAA network was forged using an executive bypass code from Victor's personal laptop!""
