But the customer-service complaints mentioning him had interested the Woman.
Three used almost identical language.
Captain made me feel as if I needed to prove I could afford to be there.
That had been enough to place him on Project Anonymous.
The Pilot walked directly toward the Woman.
He never asked the cabin attendant what had happened.
He never asked to see the seating manifest.
He looked at the Wealthy Passenger.
Then at the Woman.
“Ma’am, I need you to relocate.”
The Woman placed a bookmark between the pages.
“For what reason?”
“The passenger beside you has a standing seating preference.”
“Preference isn't assignment.”
The Pilot's jaw tightened.
“I’m asking you to cooperate.”
“With what?”
“Move toward the rear.”
The Woman looked around the cabin.
There were multiple empty seats.
“Why should I?”
The Pilot glanced toward the Wealthy Passenger.
Then leaned closer.
“Because I don’t want a disturbance before departure.”
The Woman almost smiled.
“There wasn’t one until she demanded my seat.”
The Wealthy Passenger stepped closer.
“This is exactly what I meant. She’s being difficult.”
The Woman turned toward her.
“I’m sitting quietly.”
“You’re creating unnecessary tension.”
“I haven’t moved.”
The Pilot interrupted.
“That’s enough.”
His voice hardened.
The Woman studied him.
He had made his decision.
Not from policy.
Not from safety.
From convenience.
He had identified the passenger he believed would be easier to push.
Unfortunately for him, he had chosen incorrectly.
The Pilot pointed toward the rear cabin.
“Take your bag and move.”
“No.”
The answer was quiet.
That made him angrier.
“Excuse me?”
“I said no.”
The Wealthy Passenger gave a disbelieving laugh.
The Pilot stepped closer.
“This is my aircraft while I’m in command.”
That sentence interested the Woman.
She repeated it.
“Your aircraft?”
“Operationally, yes.”
“Interesting.”
“Stand up.”
The Woman remained seated.
The Pilot reached toward the flight folder carried beneath his arm and slammed it onto the empty seat beside her.
“Get up. Move to the back before I have you removed from my aircraft.”
The cabin went completely quiet.
Even the Wealthy Passenger seemed surprised by the volume.
The Woman slowly closed her book.
Then she reached down and zipped the outer pocket of her backpack.
“Your aircraft?”
The Pilot pointed toward the aisle.
“Yes.”
The Woman looked directly at him.
“You should’ve checked who signed its purchase order.”
The Pilot's expression shifted for an instant.
Then arrogance returned.
“I don’t care who you think you know.”
He struck his palm against the seatback.
“One more smart remark and you’re off this flight.”
The Woman reached into her backpack.