On the other end of the line, a cultured, calm, British accent broke the quiet. The voice was smooth as velvet, but laced with toxic arrogance.
"I assume since you are holding this receiver, my contractors have failed to conclude our business," Julian Vance said smoothly. "A regrettable outcome for them, Mrs. Carter. But an even more regrettable one for you."
"Julian Vance," Elena said, her voice dropping into a tone of absolute command. "You sent three armed assassins to murder me in the heart of Manhattan. Did you truly believe that would save your empire?"
A quiet, patronizing chuckle resonated over the line.
"Empire? My dear Elena, you see the world through the narrow lens of your father's quaint moralities. Airlines, borders, corporate regulations—they are theater for the masses. Your father understood how to stay in his lane. Arthur Sterling understood how to profit from it. You, however, seem obsessed with martyrdom."
"My father died with his honor intact," Elena countered, her grip on the phone tightening so hard her knuckles turned white. "And Arthur Sterling is spending tonight in a federal holding cell, crying into a paper cup. Tomorrow, your name will be on the front page of every major newspaper on this planet."
Julian’s voice lost its playful edge, turning into razor-sharp steel.
"You have no idea what you are meddling with, girl. You think exposing Arthur was a triumph? Arthur was a fly on the wall. The cargo moving through your planes belongs to people whose names aren't in phone books, whose bank accounts don't show on ledgers. If you publish those manifests, you won't just destroy Horizon Air. You will ignite a firestorm that will consume everyone you have ever cared for."
"Then let it burn," Elena replied without a fraction of a second's hesitation. "Because when the smoke clears, Vance, your syndicate will be ash. And I will be the one holding the torch."
"Bold words for a woman trapped in an apartment," Vance sneered. "Check your flight systems, Mrs. Carter. You'll find that my reach is far longer than your federal friends realize."
Elena lowered the phone. She looked at Marcus and Detective Vance, whose expressions were pale with sudden alarm.
"What did he mean by that?" Marcus demanded.
Before anyone could speak, Sarah Jenkins sprinted into the room from the communication hub, holding her laptop with trembling hands.
"Mrs. Carter! Captain Reynolds! We have a catastrophic alert on Horizon Air Flight 882. It took off from JFK toward London Heathrow two hours ago."
Elena’s heart skipped a beat. "What is it, Sarah? Speak!"
"The flight control system on Flight 882... it just cut off all communication with New York Air Traffic Control. The transponder is still pinging, but the plane has altered course over the North Atlantic, heading into unregulated airspace. And there are two hundred and eighty passengers aboard!"
Chapter 17
The revelation hit the room like a physical blow. Flight 882 was one of Horizon Air’s flagship Boeing 777 passenger flights, carrying nearly three hundred innocent civilians across the ocean.
"He wouldn't dare," Marcus gasped, leaning over the laptop screen. "Julian Vance wouldn't risk an international incident of that magnitude."
"He doesn't care about the risk," Elena said, her instincts piecing the nightmare together in seconds. "Flight 882 was Arthur Sterling's designated route for tonight's primary high-value cargo transfer. When Arthur was arrested, that shipment was supposed to be grounded. Did that plane take off with that cargo on board?"
Sarah rapidly typed on her keyboard, her eyes scanning internal ground manifests. Her face went completely pale.
"Yes. A container marked *Special Diplomatic Courier — Vault Unit 4* was loaded into the rear lower cargo bay twenty minutes before departure. Signed off by a ramp manager who vanished from the airport an hour ago."
"What's in that container?" Detective Vance asked, grabbing his radio to alert the FBI Crisis Management Center.
"Not contraband," Elena realized, horror washing over her. "Evidence. The master black-box drive containing the entire digital ledger of the Apex Consortium’s smuggling routes, offshore accounts, and payoffs to corrupt officials across Europe. Sterling was holding it as leverage against Vance! Vance isn't trying to hijack the plane to escape—he’s trying to ensure that plane never lands."
"If that plane disappears over the Atlantic," Marcus said grimly, "the evidence disappears with it, Horizon Air takes the catastrophic blame, and Vance remains completely untouched in the shadows."
Elena looked at Marcus. "Can the cockpit crew override the navigational deviation manually?"