Falling(18)

Sam paused as Carrie appeared, a steaming mug in hand. The tea bag label hung off the side, twirling in her movement as she set it on the table in front of Sam, retaking her seat.

“Then!” Sam continued with a gleeful smile, tucking the gun away in his vest. “The crow swooped down and plucked the tiger’s eyes out of his skull. The king of the jungle was defenseless as the water came up over his mighty head. ‘Now,’ the crow said as he flew away, ‘I will see what the king of the jungle sees.’?”

Silence fell over the room and filled the cockpit.

“If you think—” Bill said.

Grabbing Carrie’s arm violently, Sam stretched it across the table, his chair smacking the floor behind him as it fell. Elise awoke with a scream.

“You’re missing the moral of the story, Bill,” Sam said. Carrie winced. Bill could see Sam’s fingers digging into her skin. “The moral of the story is that I will get what I want. It’s your choice what is sacrificed along the way. Make the video.”

Grabbing the mug of tea, he emptied it onto Carrie’s soft flesh, her muffled screams behind her gag mixing with her daughter’s.

The screen went black as Sam disconnected the call.

Bill clutched the sides of the computer. Panting, he stared at the blank screen. He had no idea how long he sat like that, staring into nothingness. The sound of the lav opening and closing in the cabin behind him broke his stupor.

Ben would be back soon.



* * *



Jo was opening a little creamer as Ben came out of the bathroom, the ebony skin on her fingers speckled with fine mists of cream, an unavoidable reality of a pressurized cabin at altitude. Wiping her fingers on a napkin, she swirled the cream and sugar before pointing at the machine.

“Coffee was cold so I’m brewing you a fresh pot. Almost done.”

The first officer glanced at the cockpit door.

FAA and company protocol said in and out quickly, but the FAA didn’t have any eyes on board today. Jo’s stalling was a bet on the pilot’s youth and cockiness finding him more rebellious than rule stickler, and to her relief, he leaned casually against the galley counter.

“You going downstairs tonight?” he asked.

“Nah,” Jo said. “Tomorrow in Portland, sure. But night one I slam-click, catch up on my sleep. You know I’ve been with my husband for nineteen years? You’d think I’d be able to sleep through his snoring.”

“Another reason why I’m single.”

“Uh-huh. That’s why,” Jo said, watching Ben look for the younger flight attendant in the back.

“So do you commute?” she asked.

“No, I live in Long Beach.”

“Oh, I lived there when I first moved to LA. Where were you before Coastal? You’ve been here…”

“Three years in January,” Ben said. “I was at a regional out of Buffalo.” He glanced at the glowing BREW button.

“Almost done,” she said with a small wink, placing one hand on her hip and the other on the coffeepot handle. “So tell me—”

Behind her, Jo heard her phone vibrate against the counter.



* * *



Bill’s foot tapped compulsively. Staring out the window at the rows of cornfields below, he hadn’t blinked in almost a minute. Carrie’s scream as she was scalded with nearly boiling water echoed through his head. Darker thoughts of what could happen to the children bubbled up uncontrollably.

“Dammit,” he muttered, reopening Sam’s last email.

Taking his phone out, he swiped left to open the camera. Toggling to the video function, he flipped the camera around so his own face filled the screen. Holding the phone out, he brought it alongside the computer so he could read the text like a teleprompter. The image of his face on the screen shook. Breathing deeply to steady his hand, he pressed the red record button.



* * *



Jo poured into the mug, watching the coffee swirl with the cream, dark and light combining to a shade of tawny. Taken by the relief of the everyday task, she almost didn’t see Ben reach for the interphone to call Bill and head back up.

Acting before she had time to think, Jo yelped in pain as coffee poured all over her hand. The mug slipped out of her fingers, cracking against the metal countertop, covering everything with coffee. She jumped back to avoid the splash.

“Whoa!” Ben said, slamming the phone back in its cradle. “You okay?”

Jo laughed with a grimace. “Besides embarrassed? I think so.” She shook off her hand, examining it under the light. “Well, your coffee is hot and fresh, that’s for sure. Honey, grab me some paper towels?”

With Ben busy in the bathroom, she glanced down quickly at her phone. The text was from Theo. Almost to the family’s house. Dropping the phone in her pocket, she bit her lip, covering a small smile.

“Ah, thank you,” she said, taking the paper towels. “Let me just mop this up real quick.”



* * *



Bill watched the seconds tick on the recording video. He cleared his throat.

“My name is Captain Bill Hoffman and I am guilty,” he said into the camera. “Guilty of abuse, manipulation, and exploitation. I am guilty of repressing an entire community of people whose only true desire is sovereignty and dignity. I am guilty of deserting and betraying a close ally after they sacrificed eleven thousand of their own soldiers in the defeat of ISIS, simply because I asked them to. I am guilty of looking the other way as chemical warfare was waged on innocent civilians.”