Falling(67)

Bill.

The captain. The man whose family had been taken. For all Jo knew, Carrie and the kids were already dead. Jo’s stomach sank at the same time that the plane dropped.

Her world rocked from side to side as the downward pitch increased. Her abdominal muscles clenched as she worked to maintain her balance. Squatting, she glanced out the small porthole window on the door to her right. The lights on the ground were growing brighter, blurring as the plane moved faster and closer to the ground. She’d put it off as long as she could. It was time to get in her jump seat and strap in. Just like she told Kellie and Daddy—the passengers needed her alive.

Buckled in, the oxygen tank sandwiched against her back, she leaned forward to look out the window again. Jo had flown into JFK countless times. She knew the approach well.

She knew they were deviating from it.

Bill.

What was it he had said to her? You have my word that I am not going to crash this plane. But how I accomplish that I haven’t figured out yet. His statement came to Jo like he was whispering it in her ear. He had assured her he wouldn’t crash the plane. But at what cost? Her heart ached for her friend and the burden he carried, the choice he had to make.

The back of her head smacked against the headrest as her feet left the floor. She tried to look confident, like the plane’s shuddering was all part of the plan. But their speed at this low altitude and the wild, off-course descent was telling her something else.

“Bill?” she whispered quietly to herself, the passengers unable to see her lips under her mask. The dim cabin hid her tears. The evidence was mounting—something was wrong. Her voice cracked as she issued a second plea: “Captain?”

Did he need help? She wanted to do something, she wanted to get up and fix it, she wanted to control the outcome. Moving to unbuckle her harness—to do what, she had no idea—she felt her phone in her pocket. She realized she hadn’t checked it since before the first attack started.

The bright digital display bounced in the turbulence as she struggled to hold it still enough to read. She had several unread messages from Theo.

Carrie and the kids are safe. Bad guy dead.



Jo kicked the bulkhead in front of her with both feet. Strapped to her jump seat with her hands full, it was literally the only physical reaction she could have. Jo had never felt an emotion as pure as the feeling of relieved victory that raced through her body after reading that message. She squinted through a smile that ran over the sides of her oxygen mask as she read Theo’s next text.

THE FIRST OFFICER IS IN ON THE PLAN. HE HAS A GUN. BILL MAY NEED HELP.



The human psyche wasn’t meant to sustain highs and lows of this magnitude in this short a period of time. The news ran through her body like an electric shock. The phone slipped from her fingers and landed on the galley floor.

The backup plan was Ben. The threat they had been looking for this whole time…

…was one of them.

She stared at the plexiglass bulkhead in a slack-jawed stupor. In all of their preparations the first officer hadn’t crossed her mind. Not once did she wonder how Bill would manage an attack on the cabin—with another pilot sitting beside him. The flight attendants had enough to deal with. Everything that was happening on the other side of the door she’d simply left up to Bill. But now, Jo felt like a fool that something so obvious hadn’t even occurred to her.

As the plane jostled beneath her, she tried to piece together what it meant, what they were now dealing with. She numbly unbuckled her harness and reached over to pick up her cell phone off the floor. The oxygen tank slid around her body, shifting her center of gravity. Catching herself against the bulkhead, she grabbed the phone and pulled herself back upright. Her hands shook violently.

She was losing control.

Jo stopped. Closed her eyes. Took a deep breath.

Young lady, this is not over yet. Now sit deep and put your spurs on.

As she yanked the interphone off the cradle, a high-low chime rang through the cabin.

“Daddy. Get up here. We’ve got a new problem.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR


CARRIE’S PACE WAS BRISK AS they crossed the parking lot. Scott trailed her by a few steps, struggling to keep up.

“Mom,” the boy said, “where are we going?”

Carrie glanced over her shoulder. Rousseau was walking back to the other agents nonchalantly. He hadn’t seemed fazed when she retrieved the kids; he merely handed Elise over and then squeezed Scott’s shoulder and told him he was a brave young man. Then he turned and walked away, and that was that.

“We’re going to help Daddy,” Carrie said.

Scott looked back toward the FBI agents, confused. “Aren’t they?”

Carrie hesitated. “Uh, yes, baby. They are. We’re just going to try something else too.”

They moved toward the far end of the parking lot where several rows of RVs were parked. Theo had instructed her to get the kids and then meet him over there. She didn’t ask what would happen after that. She barely knew Theo, but to say she trusted him with their lives was a literal statement today.

Carrie’s pulse raced as they walked around the RVs. Some had lights on and their owners sat in collapsible chairs enjoying the sea breeze from their makeshift front porches. Carrie was nearing the end of the rows when she heard her name. She whipped her head to her left, toward the sound.