I turned the page. Attached to the sixteenth carbon was a folded white envelope addressed to Daniel’s personal residence in Greenwich, Connecticut. Tucked inside was a cashier’s check for two hundred and forty thousand dollars from a third-party airframe leasing company based in Delaware, dated five days before the first deferred inspection.
The galley went dead silent. The only sound was the soft, continuous hum of the cabin recirculators and the muffled scrape of a catering truck pulling away outside.
Daniel’s chest rose and fell rapidly. "Those deferrals were within manufacturer operating tolerances, Vanessa. The fleet was safe. We were ninety days out from an initial public offering that would have secured fifty million dollars in capital credit for this company. If those inspection deferrals hit the press, the underwriters would have pulled the debt financing. We would have defaulted on our fuel hedging contracts by mid-October. I was protecting the enterprise."
"You were protecting your equity options," I said.
Priya Shah stepped forward from the galley corner, her handheld terminal held firmly with both hands. "Ms. Cole, the terminal network just released the gate log history. At eight-oh-two this morning, Mr. Reeves accessed the executive travel portal from an IP address inside Terminal 4. He pulled the manifest for Flight 721, saw your name in 1A, and issued the courier lock five minutes later. He didn't just stumble onto this plane. He knew you were in the concourse, and he was trying to move these physical records out of state before your internal auditors reached the Queens hangar."
Daniel glared at Priya, his jaw clenched tight enough to show the tendon along his neck. "You're a probationary line attendant, Shah. You won't have a badge at this carrier by five o'clock."
"Her badge stays exactly where it is," I said. "Yours, however, ends today."
I reached into my suit pocket, drew out my personal phone, and unlocked the display. The screen showed an active conference line connected to Sterling’s outside legal counsel in Manhattan and our board chairman, Marcus Vance. The call timer read twenty-two minutes.
They had heard every word spoken in the galley since Lawson cracked the curtain.
"Marcus," I said into the speaker.
The line crackled, then a gravelly, exhausted voice came through the phone's small speaker, clear enough for everyone in the forward cabin to hear. "I'm here, Vanessa. The audit committee quorum is on the line. We have heard the admissions."
Daniel’s head snapped toward the phone. "Marcus, wait. You need context on the financing package—"
"Be quiet, Daniel," Marcus Vance said from Manhattan. "As lead independent director, under Section 4.2 of the Sterling corporate bylaws, I am recording an emergency executive resolution. Effective immediately, Daniel Reeves is suspended from all operational duties, stripped of corporate access privileges, and relieved of his seat on the management board. Corporate security is currently padlocking his office on Park Avenue."
Daniel leaned his head back against the galley wall, his eyes closing as the last vestige of his composure shattered.
Marcus continued, his voice tight with controlled anger. "Captain Lawson, your status as pilot-in-command of Flight 721 is temporarily suspended pending a complete dispatch review by the chief pilot's office. You will surrender command of the aircraft to First Officer Miller, who will coordinate with gate control to deplane passengers into Concourse B for rebooking."
Lawson swallowed, his voice barely audible. "Understood, Mr. Chairman."
"And Ms. Harper," Marcus added, "your regional base credential is deactivated pending a formal personnel hearing. Hand your terminal and airport security badge to Officer Kowalski."