Her voice was barely audible.
“Don't trust Daniel.”
My entire body went still.
She looked frightened.
Not arrogant.
Not angry.
Frightened.
I didn't answer.
She looked away.
A few seconds later, she whispered:
“They're listening.”
Then she closed her eyes.
The First Crack
Two hours into the flight, turbulence began.
At first it was mild.
A few bumps.
A little shaking.
Nothing unusual.
Then the aircraft dropped.
Not far.
Maybe ten feet.
But enough to make several passengers gasp.
The seatbelt sign illuminated.
Sarah announced that everyone should remain seated.
I looked toward Vivian.
She was gripping the armrests.
She looked terrified.
Not of the turbulence.
Of something else.
I unbuckled my belt.
Sarah immediately approached.
“Sir, please remain seated.”
“I need to speak with her.”
“Now isn't a good time.”
“Trust me.”
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
I leaned toward Vivian.
“What did you mean?”
She didn't look at me.
“About what?”
“Daniel.”
She swallowed.
“I shouldn't have said anything.”
“Too late.”
She looked at me.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
She lowered her voice.
“Someone inside Meridian is selling information.”
“I know.”
Her eyes widened.
“You know?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
She looked away.
Then whispered:
“Not enough.”
The plane shook again.
She closed her eyes.
“Vivian.”
“Yes?”
“Who is it?”
She didn't answer.
“Who is selling the information?”
Her hands tightened.
“I don't know.”
I didn't believe her.
“You're lying.”
She looked at me.
“I don't know the whole operation.”
“What do you know?”
“That they have someone on this aircraft.”
I glanced down the aisle.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you take my seat?”
She stared at me.
“I needed to know whether you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That they were watching you.”
“And?”
“You didn't react.”
“I reacted.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You didn't react emotionally.”
I almost smiled.
“That's because I don't make decisions emotionally.”
“That is exactly why they are afraid of you.”
“Who?”
She didn't answer.
The aircraft jolted again.
A glass fell in the galley.
Sarah grabbed the counter.
Then the cabin lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then went dark.
A collective gasp moved through the cabin.
Three seconds later, the emergency lights came on.
Someone shouted.
The lights returned.
I looked toward the overhead bins.
One was open.
Inside was a small black device.
It hadn't been there before.
I stood.
Sarah rushed forward.
“Sir, please sit down.”
I pointed.
“That's not ours.”
She looked.
Her face changed.
“What is that?”
I stepped closer.
The device was about the size of a deck of cards.
A small antenna extended from one side.
I recognized it immediately.
A signal repeater.
Not necessarily dangerous.
But not normal.
Vivian suddenly stood.
“Don't touch it.”
Everyone looked at her.
She froze.
Sarah stared.
“Ma'am?”
Vivian sat down again.
“I—”
“You said not to touch it,” I said.
“I know.”
“Why?”
She didn't answer.
Then a man from row 3 stood.
The businessman I'd noticed earlier.
“Maybe everyone should calm down.”
I looked at him.
He smiled.
“There's no reason to panic.”
I studied his face.
Something about him bothered me.
Then I saw his hand.
A scar across the thumb.
I remembered that scar from a photograph.
Elliot Vance.
Former Meridian contractor.
Terminated eight months earlier.
He was supposed to be in federal custody for stealing corporate data.
I looked at him.
“Sit down.”
He smiled.
“Excuse me?”
“Sit down.”
“You don't give orders.”
“No.”
I stepped into the aisle.
“But I recognize you.”
His smile disappeared.
“I'm afraid you're mistaken.”
“Elliot Vance.”
Silence.
The passengers looked between us.
Elliot slowly reached inside his jacket.
I moved forward.
“Don't.”
His hand stopped.
Sarah shouted:
“Sir, keep your hands where I can see them!”
Elliot looked around.
Then smiled.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You really don't know.”
“Know what?”
He looked at Vivian.
She shook her head.
“No.”
Elliot laughed.
Then the cabin lights went out again.
This time, they stayed off.
Someone screamed.
A child began crying.
I heard footsteps.
Fast.
Running.
Then a door slammed.
The emergency lights returned.
Elliot was gone.
So was Vivian.
I moved toward the rear.
The lavatory door was closed.
I knocked.
“Vivian?”
Silence.
I knocked again.
“Vivian.”
A faint voice came from inside.
“Help me.”
I opened the door.
She was on the floor.
Blood covered her sleeve.
I crouched.
“Who did this?”
She looked up.
“Elliot.”
“Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“What happened?”
“He wanted the drive.”
“What drive?”
She looked at me.
Then slowly reached inside her handbag.
She pulled out a small black encrypted drive.
“This.”
I took it.
“What is it?”
“Everything.”
“Everything what?”
“Every payment.”
“Whose?”
“The board.”
I stared at her.
She whispered:
“They've been stealing from Meridian for years.”
The Woman Who Took My Seat
We moved to the rear galley.
Sarah stood nearby.
She was pale.
I handed her the encrypted drive.
“Keep this safe.”
She looked at it.
“What is it?”
“Evidence.”
“Of what?”
“Fraud.”
Her eyes widened.
Vivian sat against the wall.
Her sleeve was stained with blood.
The cut wasn't deep.
But she looked exhausted.
I crouched in front of her.
“Start talking.”
She looked at me.
“Where?”
“From the beginning.”
She took a breath.
“Six months ago, I was hired by an investment group to review Meridian's finances.”
“I know.”
“You don't know the rest.”
“Then tell me.”
“I discovered payments.”
“To whom?”
“Shell companies.”
“Whose?”
“Board members.”
“How much?”
“Over four hundred million dollars.”