Falling(28)

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ryan. We have to get that but we’ll be right back to explain.”

“What do we do?” Kellie whispered as they left him up front. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Calm down,” Jo whispered back. “We were going to have to tell them something anyway. We just need to figure out what that something is and craft the message first. It’ll be fine, we just need a little time.” Jo sounded like she was in total control but as she went to turn off the call light in row ten, she saw that her hand was shaking. “Yes, sir?” she said to the man in the middle seat.

“Yeah,” he said, pointing at the TV in the seatback in front of him. “I’d like to know about this?”

Jo angled her head to where she could see the screen. He was watching the news, and on the screen was Rick Ryan’s—apparently—now viral picture. Looking up, she saw his mask-covered face on many screens, the number increasing as passengers switched channels. Almost instantly, his face seemed to be everywhere. Growing murmurs of doubt and dissent filled the cabin, the energy shifting.

“Well?” the man asked, pointing at the TV. “What aren’t you telling us? What the hell is going on?”

A rumble of support went through the cabin.

Jo turned to look at Kellie, who was looking back at her, and it was suddenly clear to both of them that they were totally, completely, and utterly screwed.

Jo opened her mouth to speak. Not because she knew what to say, but because she had to say something.

“Okay, everybody. Listen—”

A loud triple high-low chime bleated through the cabin, cutting her off. Jo and Kellie whipped their heads to the back to see the flashing amber light above the lav, aircraft left.

Smoke alarm. Fire in the bathroom.





CHAPTER TEN


THE POLITICIAN WAS HALFWAY UP the Hoffmans’ driveway before Theo could even get to the cross street. Theo whistled, but the man jabbered into his earpiece, oblivious to anything outside of his own world.

Theo knew he couldn’t just rush up behind him. The man would be caught off guard and no doubt a loud scene would follow. Plus, if the door opened to the man and Theo was seen rushing the house at the same time, the whole operation would be compromised.

The politician dropped out of sight, disappearing behind the tall shrubs in the front yard. Theo raced across the street and up the lawn of the house to the right of the Hoffmans’. A short white fence cut across the yard and he cleared the low hurdle easily, something he hadn’t done since his high school track and field days. Dropping into the courtyard in front of the house, he saw the drapes on the front windows were wide open. Theo prayed no one was home.

The politician knocked on the Hoffmans’ front door as Theo grabbed a chair from the set of patio furniture and ran it over to the fence dividing the two yards. Standing on the chair, his head and shoulders just cleared the fence.

The man had his head down with his back to Theo, probably looking at his phone. Theo waved his arms uselessly. He looked for movement in the house, but the windows were all covered.

“All right, talk to ya later,” the politician said into his earpiece, turning back to the door. Theo was now in his periphery and he waved his arms even more wildly. This close to the house, he didn’t want to make any noise, but the man still wasn’t noticing him. The politician reached into his bag, the clipboard catching on a strap, a stack of flyers fluttering to the ground.

Theo pivoted on the chair and scanned the yard. Down the fence to his left was a large basket full of pool toys. Sticking out the top was a neon-pink pool noodle. Perfect. Theo ran to grab the toy.

Jumping back up, Theo dangled the bright piece of foam into the Hoffmans’ yard. The politician had picked up the flyers and was lifting the flap of the mail slot, which was now at eye level in his crouched position. The waving flash of color in his periphery caught his attention and he snapped his head to the right, freezing at the sight of Theo on the other side of the fence.

Theo held up his badge and pointed at it, repeatedly mouthing the letters F-B-I until the man nodded slowly. The politician was still crouched and unmoving and the flyer began to tremble in his hand. Theo held a finger to his lips. The man closed his gaping mouth. Pantomiming his fingers walking down the path and away from the house, Theo returned his finger to the front of his lips, praying the man got it. The man nodded to indicate he did.

Slowly, the man stood from his crouched position, letting the flyer fall into the house as he did. The hand that held the flap of the mail slot released and the metal slat retracted with a slap against the house.

A concussive blast slammed Theo backward. A roiling orange fireball shooting up against the sky was the last thing he saw as his feet went over his head. Slamming into the side of the neighbor’s house, he crumpled to the ground.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


FORGET THE OXYGEN MASKS, FORGET a chemical attack. If there was a fire on board, the plane would crash regardless.

Jo made her way to the back, ignoring every extended hand and questioning look. An uncontrollable fire was the only thing that turned her cold with fear anymore. Well, until today. That was when it hit her: This was the terrorist’s backup plan.

Her pace quickened.

The illuminated toilet sign outside the lav shone green, meaning the bathroom was unoccupied, or at least unlocked. Scanning the door as she approached, her eyes narrowed in the dim cabin, searching for any sign of smoke escaping through the crack at the base of the door or the ventilation slats directly above that. Nothing. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she braced for a burning smell to assault her—but none came.