“And?”
“The plant died.”
Her throat went dry.
Ethan laughed softly through the radio.
“Hello, Claire.”
She wanted to believe it was impossible.
People had played recordings before.
AI voice cloning existed.
Military records could be stolen.
Memories could be reconstructed from messages.
But those words had been spoken when they were alone.
No radio.
No witnesses.
No recording.
Claire forced herself back to the present.
“What do you want?”
“To keep you alive.”
“You poisoned my pilots.”
“I didn’t.”
“You hijacked the aircraft.”
“I redirected it.”
“That’s hijacking.”
“You’ll understand.”
“I’m carrying 287 passengers.”
“I know exactly how many people you’re carrying.”
Claire stared at the blinking device.
“That isn’t reassuring.”
“Turn north.”
“No.”
“Then someone else will.”
Claire glanced at the controls.
“They already tried.”
“And you fought them.”
“You taught me to.”
Silence.
Then Ethan said, “You were always better than the software.”
Claire felt anger rise.
“Where are you?”
“North.”
“Specific.”
“No.”
“What happens if I continue toward Ireland?”
“You won’t reach it.”
“Threat?”
“Warning.”
Claire looked at the fuel numbers on backup instruments.
Shannon remained possible.
Barely.
But without reliable navigation and with hostile control intrusion, an ordinary diversion had become dangerous.
Still better than flying toward an unknown destination.
She turned southwest.
The controls resisted immediately.
Claire used asymmetric thrust again.
The aircraft responded sluggishly.
Then another warning tone sounded.
ENGINE TWO THRUST LIMIT.
“Damn it.”
The system had capped power.
Claire adjusted.
Engine one now carried more load.
The aircraft remained controllable.
Ethan’s voice returned.
“Don’t force it.”
“Then stop interfering.”
“I’m not controlling the aircraft.”
“Who is?”
Pause.
“That is why I need you north.”
“Give me a name.”
“I can’t.”
“Then we’re done.”
Claire changed frequency.
Static.
Another frequency.
Nothing.
Emergency frequency.
Nothing.
Someone was jamming communications.
But jamming satellite systems over the North Atlantic required reach.
Money.
Infrastructure.
Not a lone madman.
The cockpit door opened.
Mara entered.
“Captain Ross is stable.”
“Good.”
“The other two?”
“Still unconscious.”
“Any sign of carbon monoxide?”
“The doctor thinks exposure to something is possible.”
“Cockpit only?”
“He’s testing.”
Claire nodded.
“How are the passengers?”
“Scared.”
“Any injuries?”
“No.”
“Keep it that way.”
Mara hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
Claire glanced at her.
“What?”
“The woman sitting across from you. Sophie’s mother.”
“Elena.”
“She’s awake now.”
“Good.”
“She says she needs to speak to you.”
“Later.”
“She says it’s about this flight.”
Claire looked at her.
“What about it?”
“She knew someone was looking for a former fighter pilot before we left New York.”
Claire’s attention sharpened.
“Bring her.”
Minutes later, Elena Vargas entered the cockpit wrapped in a gray blanket.
She looked exhausted.
But no longer sick.
“You should be resting,” Claire said.
Elena ignored that.
“I heard what happened.”
“How did you know they were looking for me?”
Elena looked at Mara.
“Can we speak privately?”
“No.”
“Claire—”
“How do you know my name?”
Elena went still.
Claire stood.
“Everyone on this aircraft seems to know who I am.”
Elena lowered her voice.
“My husband worked for Aerodyne Systems.”
Claire knew the company.
Defense contractor.
Flight-control software.
Electronic warfare.
Government programs.
“What did he do?”
“Cybersecurity.”
“Where is he?”
Elena looked down.
“Dead.”
Claire said nothing.
“He died six months ago.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“No.”
Claire glanced at the device.
“Continue.”
“Three weeks before he died, he told me a transportation network had been compromised.”
“What network?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“Civilian aircraft?”
“I think so.”
Claire stepped closer.
“Why are you on this flight?”
Elena’s eyes filled.
“Because he left something for me in Madrid.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who told you?”
“A lawyer.”
“Name?”
“David Mercer.”
Claire stopped.
She knew that name too.
Colonel David Mercer had supervised Project Nightglass.
The classified test.
The investigation.
The report declaring Ethan Cole dead.
Claire’s voice changed.
“David Mercer is not a lawyer.”
Elena stared.
“What?”
“He’s retired Air Force intelligence.”
Elena’s face drained.
“He contacted me from a law office.”
Claire looked at Mara.
“When did Elena book this flight?”
Mara checked the manifest.
“Four days ago.”
“And me?”
“Yesterday.”
Claire frowned.
She had booked at the last minute after a consulting meeting in New York had ended early.
No one should have predicted she would be aboard.
Unless someone had influenced the booking.
“What seat did I originally have?”
Mara checked.
“14C.”
Claire looked toward the cabin.
“Why am I in 8A?”
“Upgrade.”
“I didn’t request one.”
Mara swallowed.
“The system automatically moved you.”
Claire turned toward Elena.
“And Sophie?”
“8B.”
A cold realization formed.
Someone had intentionally placed Claire beside Elena’s daughter.
Why?
The radio crackled.
Ethan again.
“Now you’re asking the right questions.”
Claire moved to the transmitter.
“You knew Elena was aboard?”
“Yes.”
“You knew Sophie?”
“Yes.”
Elena gasped.
Claire stared at the radio.
“What does a child have to do with this?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why put her beside me?”
“I didn’t.”
“Who did?”
Static.
Claire’s voice hardened.
“Ethan.”
“Listen carefully. The people who compromised this airplane wanted two things aboard.”
“What?”