Chapter 8 - Guardians at 35,000 Feet
The seconds stretched into an agonizing eternity inside the cramped flight deck.
“You want to use the boy as bait?” I asked, my voice rising in disbelief. “Agent Miller, he’s six years old! He’s already terrified!”
“He’s not bait, Mr. Carter; he’s the secure vault,” Agent Miller replied, his voice chillingly calm. “If Viktor makes a move inside a crowded commercial cabin, he exposes himself completely. But if we try to arrest him in the middle of the aisle right now without concrete, overt criminal action, his legal team will scream entrapment, and he might detonate or compromise whatever digital override tools he brought on board. We let him initiate contact. Then we drop the hammer.”
Captain Vance looked back and forth between us, his hands tightening on the edge of the control console. “Agent, I’m responsible for the lives of one hundred and eighty-six souls on this aircraft. I will not have a tactical firefight inside my passenger cabin.”
“There won’t be a firefight, Captain,” Miller assured him, pulling a pair of heavy-duty flex-cuffs from his belt. “Just leave the cockpit door unlatched by an inch. When I give the signal, you lock down the cabin pressure overrides, and I step out. Trust me.”
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening with fear for Noah sitting alone up front. “I’m going back out there.”
“Negative, Ryan,” Miller said, grabbing my shoulder with surprising strength. “You stay right here in the galley line-of-sight. If you go out there acting nervous, Viktor will spot you instantly. Let him think the cabin is completely unprotected.”
I hated it. Every instinct screamed at me to rush out to Seat 2A, grab Noah, and lock ourselves in the lavatory. But looking into Agent Miller’s hardened, experienced eyes, I realized he was right. We couldn't fight an invisible shadow; we had to draw it out into the light.
I positioned myself behind the forward curtain, peering through a narrow gap straight into the first-class cabin.
Noah was still curled up by the window. He had pulled his gray hoodie strings tight, half-hiding his face, gently stroking the floppy, hand-sewn ear of Mr. Hopper.
Then, the man in the dark wool coat emerged from the mid-cabin aisle.
Viktor moved with unnerving, predatory grace. The other passengers didn't even notice him; people were either dozing, watching seatback movies, or reading magazines. He stepped smoothly into the first-class zone, his hands tucked casually into the deep pockets of his coat.
He didn't look at Linda. He didn't look at the empty beverage cart.
His eyes were locked entirely on the back of Noah’s head.
He reached row two, stopping right beside Seat 2C.
A cold sweat broke out across the back of my neck. I gripped the edge of the galley counter so hard my knuckles turned white. Do it now, Miller, I screamed silently in my mind. Move!
Viktor leaned down, invading Noah’s personal space, his hand sliding out from his coat pocket.
“Hey, kid,” Viktor murmured, his voice carrying clearly into the quiet front cabin. “That’s a nice rabbit. Mind if I take a closer look at it?”
Noah flinched violently, pulling the stuffed animal away and pressing himself flat against the window. “No! My dad gave it to me! Leave me alone!”
“Don't be like that,” Viktor smiled coldly, his fingers stretching out toward the toy. “Your dad sent me to pick it up.”
That was the breaking point.
Before Agent Miller could even push through the cockpit door, I ripped the curtain aside and lunged out of the galley.
May you like
“Step away from the boy!” I shouted, lunging down the aisle like a madman.
Viktor’s head whipped around, surprise flashing across his features for a fraction of a second before his expression hardened into violent aggression. He abandoned the boy, spinning around to face me, his hand dipping back into his coat pocket—where the heavy, metallic outline of a compact tactical device suddenly flashed under the cabin lights.
