Richard sat down.
“Robert believes the financial problems aren't the only issue.”
“What else?”
“Employees have been pressured to treat certain passengers differently.”
Mercer frowned.
“By whom?”
Richard didn't answer immediately.
“Executives.”
Mercer stared at him.
“Are you saying the airline has been discriminating against passengers?”
“I'm saying there are allegations.”
“And Robert was testing us?”
“Yes.”
Mercer remembered the first conversation.
He felt ashamed.
“Then I failed.”
Richard shook his head.
“Not necessarily.”
Mercer looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Robert isn't looking for perfection.”
“Then what is he looking for?”
“The truth.”
Richard leaned forward.
“He deliberately looked like an ordinary elderly passenger.”
Mercer nodded.
“He wanted to see what happened.”
“And what happened?”
Mercer didn't answer.
Richard gave him a knowing look.
“You already know.”
The room fell silent.
After several seconds, Mercer asked:
“Why me?”
Richard looked confused.
“What?”
“Why was I selected?”
“You weren't.”
Mercer frowned.
“You mean this was random?”
“Yes.”
“Then anyone could have been tested.”
“Exactly.”
Mercer leaned back.
That somehow made him feel worse.
He had always considered himself fair.
He treated passengers professionally.
He believed experience had made him wiser.
Yet one glance at Robert's clothes had changed the way he approached him.
Not consciously.
Not deliberately.
But enough.
He had judged him.
And Robert had seen it immediately.
The door opened.
A hospital representative entered.
“Mr. Jenkins is awake.”
Everyone stood.
“Can we see him?”
“He asked for Captain Mercer.”
Mercer looked surprised.
“Me?”
The representative nodded.
“He specifically asked for you.”
Richard looked uncomfortable.
Mercer followed the representative down the corridor.
Robert was sitting upright in a hospital bed.
The oxygen had been removed.
His face was pale, but his eyes were alert.
When Mercer entered, Robert smiled.
“Captain.”
“Mr. Jenkins.”
“Come closer.”
Mercer pulled a chair beside the bed.
“How are you feeling?”
“Old.”
Mercer smiled despite himself.
“Other than that?”
“Better.”
There was a moment of silence.
Then Robert said:
“You were worried.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you collapsed on my airplane.”
Robert nodded.
“Fair answer.”
Mercer looked at him.
“Why didn't you tell me who you were?”
Robert smiled.
“Would you have treated me differently?”
Mercer sighed.
“Probably.”
“Then you understand.”
Mercer looked down.
“I made a mistake.”
“Yes.”
“I judged you.”
“Yes.”
“I shouldn't have.”
“No.”
Robert wasn't trying to make him feel better.
He wasn't trying to humiliate him either.
He was simply telling the truth.
Mercer looked up.
“Why did you choose this flight?”
Robert's expression became serious.
“Because of someone named David.”
“Who is David?”
“My son.”
Mercer waited.
Robert continued.
“David worked for this airline.”
“What happened to him?”
“He died three years ago.”
Mercer didn't know what to say.
“I'm sorry.”
Robert nodded.
“He was an engineer.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Officially?”
“Yes.”
“An accident.”
Robert looked toward the window.
“Unofficially?”
Mercer waited.
“I don't believe it was an accident.”
The words hung in the room.
Mercer leaned forward.
“Why?”
Robert opened his briefcase.
This time, he removed a folder.
Inside were maintenance reports.
Photographs.
Emails.
Internal memos.
Mercer looked through them.
His expression became increasingly troubled.
“These are aircraft maintenance records.”
“Yes.”
“From three years ago.”
“Yes.”
Mercer read one of the reports.
“Engine vibration.”
Robert nodded.
“This aircraft had repeated warnings.”
“Were they fixed?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Sometimes the warning disappeared from the system.”
Mercer stared at him.
“That shouldn't be possible.”
“Exactly.”
Mercer continued reading.
Several maintenance issues had been marked as resolved.
But attached photographs suggested otherwise.
“Who signed these?”
Robert pointed.
Mercer recognized the name.
“Richard Cole.”
He looked up.
“Your vice president?”
“Yes.”
Mercer's expression changed.
“Are you accusing him?”
Robert shook his head.
“I'm investigating him.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
“No.”
Robert closed the folder.
“That's why I came here.”
Mercer looked at the documents again.
“What happened to your son?”
Robert's voice softened.
“He discovered something.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
Mercer frowned.
“How can you not know?”
“Because the day before he died, he called me.”
“What did he say?”
Robert stared at the floor.
“He said, 'Dad, if anything happens to me, don't trust the people who tell you it was an accident.'”
Mercer felt a chill.
“What happened the next day?”
“He was dead.”
Silence filled the room.
Mercer didn't know what to say.
Robert reached into his briefcase again.
He pulled out the old photograph.
The same one Emily had found.
He turned it over.
On the back was another message.
This time Mercer could read it clearly.
Three names. One lie. Find the truth.
Mercer looked at Robert.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know yet.”
“Then what do you know?”
Robert's eyes hardened.
“I know my son was afraid.”
Mercer remained silent.
“I know he believed someone inside this company was hiding something.”
“And you think that person is still here?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Robert looked directly at him.
“I don't know.”
Then he added:
“But I think you're going to help me find out.”
Mercer was startled.
“Why me?”
“Because you made a mistake today.”
Mercer frowned.
“How does that make me useful?”
“Because you admitted it.”
Robert placed the photograph on the table.
“Most people don't.”
Mercer looked at the old image.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
Robert pointed to one of the men in the photograph.
“This is my son.”
Mercer stared.
The young man standing beside Robert looked remarkably familiar.
Then Mercer recognized him.
David Jenkins.
He had seen that face before.
Not in a photograph.
In an old employee memorial hanging in the airline's headquarters.
Robert continued.
“The third man is Richard Cole.”
Mercer's eyes widened.
“Richard?”
“Yes.”
“Your son knew him?”
“They worked together.”
Mercer slowly stood.
“Then why is Richard helping you?”
Robert's expression was unreadable.
“He isn't.”
At that moment, there was a knock at the door.
Before Robert could respond, Richard Cole entered.
He looked at Mercer.
Then at Robert.
Then at the folder on the table.
His face changed.