Falling(34)

Where were they? It was incredibly dark; besides a soft light off-screen to their left, the glow from the phone reflecting off their faces was the only light in the space. It was also small. They sat close together and by their posture, Bill thought they might be on the floor, not in chairs.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” came Sam’s voice through the earbud in Bill’s left ear. The voice sounded closer than it was, the way a voice was amplified when it was in an enclosed space like a car. “You shouldn’t have done that, Bill.”

Bill furiously typed out a response. Done what? Did you get the video? I did exactly what you asked.

Sam received the email with a chuckle. “Oh, no. I got the video. No,” he said. “I said you weren’t allowed to tell the flight attendants.”

Bill’s stomach dropped, but he tried to keep a poker face while deciphering that statement. How did he know he’d told the crew? Did that mean he knew about Jo’s nephew and the FBI? Was that why they left the house? Why he blew it up?

Sam’s voice was confident. “I knew something was off after you sent the video. Something just didn’t feel right. And sure enough…”

Sam swiped around on his own phone for a moment before holding it up to the camera. Bill squinted to see what was on the screen. It appeared to be a picture of a passenger in a Coastal Airways first-class seat, the cream-colored leather and pink mood lighting a contrast to the panicky yellow cup of the oxygen mask covering his face.

Bill closed his eyes, piecing it together. They released the masks with the MRTs. Brilliant. But none of them, clearly, took into account the passengers’ use of the internet.

With a sinking feeling it dawned on him that, actually, they might have—but they couldn’t cut the internet because Bill needed to talk to his family. Yet one more way that he was destroying anyone and everything around him.

“I assumed you’d be that arrogant, though,” Sam said. “That’s why the family and I proactively took a little road trip.”

Road trip.

Okay, so they were in a vehicle. Bill tried to remember if he had seen a cable van parked outside their house when he left for the airport that morning, but he had no recollection. Or maybe they were in Carrie’s car, the massive SUV they bought last year after finding out they had a baby on the way. The back two rows folded down flat—they could easily be in the back of that.

“I mean,” Sam continued, “I don’t know who else knows now besides your flight attendants. But whoever you sent to your house, I hope you didn’t like them too much. You know what? Here—hold on.”

The screen jiggled as he handed Carrie her phone to hold, his free hand punching buttons on his own. Carrie looked down at his screen, watching whatever he was looking up. A voice started speaking, and Carrie gasped.

“…I’m here in front of the home, which, as you can see, has been completely destroyed in the explosion. Authorities are saying the cause was a gas leak and they have not told us if anyone was inside at the time of the blast. Luckily, only one home seems to have been…”

Sam held the video up for him to see. Bill fought the urge to cover his mouth. The reporter stood on their street, yellow caution tape stretched out behind her. Beyond it was their home. What was left of it.

Bill stared at the wreckage and grew cold with a newfound realization.

There was no chance this man was bluffing. He knew exactly what he was doing, and there was no doubt in Bill’s mind that he would kill his family if Bill did not comply.

Carrie began to cry. Not loudly, but not quietly either.

“Really?” Sam said to her. “You’ve been so strong. Surprisingly strong. You’re going to fall apart now because of a house and maybe a few people?” He shook his head. “How are you going to live with yourself after a whole plane full of people die so you and your kids can live?”

Tears rolled down Carrie’s face as she looked up at the ceiling.

Sam laughed. “That’s assuming Bill chooses you guys over the plane.” He shrugged. “Maybe I shouldn’t assume. Let’s check in. Have you made your choice, captain?”

Bill typed angrily, watching the man receive and read the email with an eye roll.

“I will not crash this plane, you will not kill my family, blah, blah, blah,” Sam said. “What is it with American men? Why do you guys always see yourselves as the hero? Why do you always want to do things the hard way?” He sighed. “Fine. Have it your way.”

Sam started typing on his phone, the detonator hugged between his fingers and the device. Carrie looked up at Bill. She looked as terrified as he felt.

“Bill,” he said, still working on his phone. “I told you that you would make a choice. I told you that there were things in place on board that would ensure it. I also told you that you weren’t allowed to tell anyone. Now, I assumed that threat would be enough—but I also know you’re a privileged, arrogant prick who thinks he can get away with whatever he wants. Turns out I was right. So, I’ll level with you. I can’t kill your family right now. I need them. I’ll leave that final choice up to you. But you did break the rules, and guess what? Actions have consequences. You sent authorities to your house, so I blew it up. You told your flight attendants”—he looked up from his phone, his fingers paused, and stared into the camera—“well, we’ll get to that.”