Chapter 6 - THE HERO THEY TRIED TO TURN INTO A SUSPECT
Laura expected questions after landing.
She did not expect to become the question.
Within ninety minutes, Portuguese authorities, American embassy personnel, airline investigators, military officers, and aviation-safety officials had filled a conference room at Lajes Field.
Laura sat at one end of a table wearing a borrowed Air Force sweatshirt because her sweater had been soaked through with sweat.
Captain Foster sat beside her.
Aaron Vale was in the base hospital.
Caleb Rourke was in custody.
The encrypted drive was secured.
It should have been simple.
It wasn’t.
A sharply dressed American attorney entered with two federal representatives.
“Colonel Vance?”
“Former colonel.”
“My name is Peter Sloan. I represent Keene Aeronautics.”
Laura stared at him.
“You got here quickly.”
“We have personnel in Europe.”
“Apparently you also have personnel in seat 3D.”
His expression did not move.
“Mr. Rourke has done private security work for multiple companies.”
“He knew who I was.”
“I cannot speak to that.”
“He carried a transmitter.”
“I cannot speak to that either.”
Laura leaned back.
“Then you flew to an island in the Atlantic to say nothing?”
Captain Foster almost smiled.
Sloan ignored him.
“The company is deeply concerned about allegations being made without technical verification.”
Laura’s eyes narrowed.
“What allegations?”
“That an aerospace manufacturer caused tonight’s event.”
“I didn’t name a manufacturer.”
Sloan realized his mistake.
Just for half a second.
Enough.
Laura leaned forward.
“Interesting.”
He stood.
“This conversation is over.”
“It just became useful.”
Sloan left.
Foster looked at Laura.
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
The problem became larger an hour later.
A news alert appeared.
FORMER FIGHTER PILOT TAKES CONTROL OF PASSENGER JET DURING ATLANTIC EMERGENCY.
Then another.
QUESTIONS EMERGE OVER UNAUTHORIZED COCKPIT ACCESS.
Then:
SOURCES: FORMER AIR FORCE PILOT LINKED TO PRIOR FATAL FLIGHT INCIDENT.
Laura stared at the screen.
There it was.
Red Sky 27.
Eleven years later.
Somebody had fed the press her sealed history almost immediately after they landed.
Captain Foster swore.
“They’re setting a narrative.”
Laura knew exactly which one.
Not hero.
Unstable former pilot.
Widow carrying guilt.
Woman associated with one fatal crash who entered the cockpit of another aircraft experiencing unusual control behavior.
If the sabotage evidence disappeared, suspicion would remain.
Laura put down the phone.
“Where is Aaron’s drive?”
The room went silent.
An investigator answered.
“In evidence custody.”
“Whose?”
“Joint aviation security.”
“Get it.”
“Colonel—”
“Get it now.”
They discovered eight minutes later that the evidence bag was missing.
Nobody had signed it out.
The locked cabinet had not been forced.
Someone with authorized access had simply opened it.
Laura’s stomach dropped.
Caleb Rourke had not been alone.
Captain Foster stood.
“Lock down the building.”
The base commander did.
No vehicles left.
No aircraft moved.
Every person inside the operations section was checked.
The drive remained missing.
Then Laura remembered something Aaron had said.
One encrypted cloud backup.
She called the base hospital.
Aaron was awake.
Barely.
When Laura entered his room, he looked smaller than he had on the airplane.
Guilt did that to people.
“I lost the drive.”
His eyes closed.
“I expected that.”
“You expected someone to steal it?”
“I expected Keene to have someone everywhere.”
“What’s the backup password?”
He looked at her.
“I need something first.”
Laura stared.
“You are in no position to bargain.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t.”
His eyes filled.
“I need to tell you what happened to Ben.”
She went still.
“All of it.”
Laura sat.
Aaron looked toward the window.
“Ben reported the ghost inputs three weeks before Red Sky 27.”
Laura stopped breathing.
“What?”
“He filed two maintenance discrepancy reports.”
“I never saw them.”
“They were removed.”
“By who?”
“General Keene’s office classified them under a development program.”
Laura felt sick.
“Ben knew?”
“He knew something was wrong.”
“Why did he fly?”
“He was told the aircraft had been cleared.”
Laura looked away.
Ben had trusted them.
Just as she had.
Aaron continued.
“During Red Sky, the system received an unintended command burst. It should have lasted less than a tenth of a second.”
“But it didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because an experimental receiver was active.”
Laura stared.
“Experimental?”
Aaron began crying.
“They were running a test.”
She stood.
“No.”
“They said it was passive.”
“No.”
“Laura—”
“You tested something on his aircraft?”
“I didn’t authorize it.”
“But you knew afterward.”
“Yes.”
Her hand shook.
Ben had not simply died from a flaw.
Somebody had placed experimental equipment on his fighter.
“Did Keene know before the flight?”
“Yes.”
Laura closed her eyes.
There was no room inside her for the rage.
Aaron whispered:
“He ordered the investigation contained because the program was tied to a classified unmanned-control project.”
“And you helped.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you telling me now?”
“Cancer.”
She looked at him.
“Pancreatic. Stage four.”
He smiled bitterly.
“Turns out death improves moral clarity.”
Laura felt no sympathy.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
“The password.”
Aaron told her.
Three words.
BEN WAS RIGHT.
Laura nearly broke.
She entered the phrase into the secure terminal.
The cloud archive opened.
Thousands of files.
Emails.
Test records.
Maintenance orders.
Internal recordings.
And one scanned document signed by Marcus Keene himself.
Authorization for an experimental command-receiver module to remain installed aboard Ben Vance’s aircraft during Red Sky 27.
Laura stared at the signature.
Her husband had been telling the truth.
She had been telling the truth.
The crash had never been pilot error.
Captain Foster came to the door.
“Laura.”
She turned.
His face was tense.
“Rourke is gone.”
“What?”
“He assaulted an escort during transfer.”
“How?”
“Someone triggered a fire alarm. Doors opened.”
Laura felt cold.
“Inside help again.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“They found a maintenance vehicle abandoned near the west gate.”
Aaron suddenly sat forward.
“Laura.”
“What?”
“If Rourke escapes the island, Keene destroys everything.”
“The backup exists.”
“He’ll claim fabrication.”
“We have tonight’s aircraft.”
Aaron looked at her.
“Not if the sabotage device disappears before investigators reach the avionics bay.”
Laura stared.
The aircraft was sitting less than a mile away.
Under guard.
Or supposedly under guard.
Then an alarm sounded somewhere outside.
Captain Foster looked through the window.
Smoke was rising near the runway.
From the direction of Atlantic Seven-Twelve.
Someone had started a fire near the aircraft that Laura had just saved.
And if the flight-control hardware burned with it, Marcus Keene could turn three hundred survivors into three hundred confused witnesses.
Laura stood.
Not this time.
Eleven years ago, they had controlled the crash site.
The records.
The investigation.
May you like
Her grief.
Tonight they would control nothing.
