by Nova Rain
Penny puffed air out of her cheeks and whipped her head in my direction. “They were sabotaged. Someone wanted them to think it’d be safe to fly that plane. The question is ‘who.’”
“God, give me strength,” I sighed, holding my cheek. “This wasn’t an accident. This was attempted murder.”
“Exactly.” Jake gave a slow nod. “And call me ‘crazy,’ but I think I know who’s behind this. It’s United.”
Hearing those words coming out of his mouth made me want to analyze this. I didn’t agree with him. In my mind, it was too far-fetched for a colossus like United Airlines to try and murder two of their former pilots. However, his condition didn’t allow much room for debates. Jake was barely able to keep his eyes open, let alone analyze his theory.
“Get some rest,” I advised, shifting my attention to Penny. “I need a word with you.”
I waited until the two of us were back out in the hall, before addressing her again.
“That is a very serious allegation,” I stated, my stare intensifying. “I’d love to doubt him, but I’m no aviation expert. Do you believe him?”
“I believe they were sabotaged. I’m not so sure about who did it.” She shared her opinion with me, taking a few glances around her.
“That’s where we come in,” I added, my voice picking up speed. “We need to find answers, Penny. After all, it’s our job, isn’t it?”
“I’m with you,” she agreed. “I just think it’s going to be hard for us to do much. That airport is full of NTSB agents. I read earlier that the FBI is on the case, too. What the hell are we going to do? Look for evidence?”
“We already have the evidence,” I told her, my tone stable. “Jake’s testimony is a lot more important than forensics. Let’s find out who was in charge of the loading process. We should also run a background check on ‘Swift Cargo.’”
“Why would their current employers want to kill their own pilots?” Penny squinted at me.
“I have no idea,” I shrugged my shoulders. “God knows what they’re hiding. Anyway, investigating United Airlines sounds like a waste of time to me. They may be cold, corporate bastards, but I doubt they’d attempt something so evil.”
“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Penny whispered, her eye contact indicating her conviction. “They’re not just corporate bastards, Ava. They’re vultures. Human life doesn’t mean squat to them. I still remember their attitude towards their own passengers. They would rather have had that plane crash than see it land on a levee.”
“I remember their attitude, too, dear.” Disgust deepened my tone. “Still, that doesn’t mean they would resort to cold-blooded murder to get back at two pilots. Anyway, let’s divide this up. I investigate ‘Swift Cargo.’ You investigate United Airlines.”
“Deal.” She nodded in agreement. “Sorry, Ava. I really have to get back to Jake. I’ll see you later, okay?”
I dismissed her with a faint smile, realizing her point. The prospect of looking into an airline had intrigued me. I didn’t have any experience in this area, but I was very eager to get started. Nonetheless, launching my investigation had to wait. Michael’s struggle wasn’t over. His struggle would distract me. It would prevent me from focusing on work. This time, I couldn’t afford any distractions. A minor mistake or an oversight could do irreparable harm to my quest for the truth.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ava
An agonizing sensation in my back made me pry my eyes open. Jake was fast asleep in his bed. Penny was sleeping in the chair across from me. Dim daylight was coming through the wide window above her. A glance at the clock on my cell phone told me the time.
5:51am.
Go back to sleep.
I rejected that thought in a flash. I wasn’t going to rest in that chair. I would do the same thing that had given me this backache. And before I knew it, the will to find out how Michael was doing stormed my mind. So, I left the couple in the room and walked outside.
A chart near the elevators revealed the location of the ICU. It was on the fourth floor. I felt my heart tightening in my chest as I looked at myself in the mirror of an empty car. I could be just seconds away from getting a terrible piece of information.
Be strong for him, Ava. You owe him that much.
My first thought didn’t help. My second one however, made all the difference. Michael had been helping me get back on my feet. Had it not been for him, I would still be in the dark place where he found me. Believing he would emerge from this battle victoriously was the only thing I could do for him.
The fourth floor didn’t resemble any other floor in that building. The elevator opened out into a large room, with leather couches lining the side walls and two rows of seats against the far wall. In the middle, a sealed door blocked off the hallway. There was a middle-aged woman on one of those couches, her attention on her phone. Whatever she had been watching was too interesting for her to even throw a glance at me. Approaching her, I couldn’t help but notice a resemblance between her and Michael. She had the same, almond-shaped eyes. He had taken his full lips from her. More than that, she had dyed her hair blonde, but its roots were black, just like her son’s.
I parted my lips, wanting to introduce myself to her. At that moment though, the sound of an explosion coming from her device compelled me to seal my lips. Leaning over the cell phone, I discovered the origin of that blast. The Beluga was lying in ruins on the runway, flames consuming what was left of the fuselage.
“Oh Lord…” She sighed, shutting her eyes as she leaned her head back.
Once again, I didn’t dare speak. Out of respect, I sat down near her and propped my elbows on my thighs.
“Ava? Ava Briggs?” I heard her feminine voice call out my name.
“Yes, that’s me,” I admitted, turning my head right to face her.
“I wish we were meeting under better circumstances,” she continued, her voice losing its nerve. “My name is Anna Compton. I’m Michael’s mother.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Compton.” I gave her a fast nod, unable to offer her anything else. “Pardon me for asking, but how do you know me?”
“That’s simple, dear. Here.” She took her eyes off me and looked down at the phone for a few moments, before flipping it around so I could view it. A smile of bitterness spread across my face at the view of a picture of mine. It had been taken on our first trip to Ontario. We were at a roadside café. My side to the camera, I was sitting outside in the sunshine. I was also smiling and writing something down in my notepad, my hair gathered in a ponytail. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Michael has talked to you about me?” I asked, pitching my voice higher.
“He sure has,” Anna confirmed. “And don’t let this go to your head, but you’re the first woman he’s mentioned to me since Tina Bowen, his girlfriend in the seventh grade.”
“I’m honored,” I claimed, swallowing hard. “Anyway, have you heard from the doctors? How is Michael?”
“They managed to stabilize him, sometime during the night,” she informed me. “He’s not in the clear yet, though. It’s that damn internal bleeding. They’re worried the meds they’re giving him might not work.”
The sound of the door swinging open drew our attention. I recognized the doctor I ran into the night before. His eyes swept the room, until they located me.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but your name isn’t by any chance Ava Briggs, is it?” He asked, squinting down at me.
“Yeah, it is,” I told him, getting up from my seat.
“Mr. Compton just woke up. He’s asking to see you,” he explained, gesturing me to the door.
“Thank you,” I sighed, striding away from Anna. “Is there an update on his condition?”
“Well, his systems seem to be responding well to the treatment,” the doctor announced. “It’s too soon to tell, but I’m optimistic. Follow me, please.”
At last, some good news. It wasn’t the best, sure, but I would take it. It was
a lot better than the uncertainty and the fear that had been overwhelming me during the past fifteen hours or so.
The kind doctor led me to a much smaller room and halted just inches from the doorframe.
“You have five minutes, ma’am,” he spoke in a stiff tone.
“Thanks again,” I muttered under my breath, my fingers curving around the doorknob. I twisted it, my heart jumping into my throat. But, as his battered form entered my line of sight, I felt it sinking. Michael had a bandage wrapped around his entire midsection. The collar I saw the previous night was still around his neck. Furthermore, he had plenty of cuts along his forearms and his legs, as well as a large bruise across his forehead.
“Now that’s a sight for sore eyes,” he wheezed, the beeping of the heartrate monitor lacing the air. “Hey, Ms. Posh.”
“Don’t speak,” I urged, closing the gap between us. “Save your energy.”
“What for?” He wondered, his facing twisting into an expression of bitterness. “How’s Jake? The doctor won’t tell me.”
“He’s fine,” I assured him, bending towards him. “I want you to do me a favor, okay?”
“What’s that?”
“Hang in there,” I requested, making my voice sound sweeter. “Pull through. We still have so much to do. I…” I faltered, feeling tears rising up in my eyes. “I miss you. Fight this. Come back to me.”
“I’ll try,” he said on an exhale. “Man…” he grunted, biting his lower lip. “This hurts.”
“Fight this,” I repeated with a whisper, and laid a tender kiss on his forehead. Although those five minutes were not over, I decided to leave. I couldn’t stay in there another second. I couldn’t stand witnessing his agony. I was on the verge of tears. A long confession was on the tip of my tongue, but a little voice inside doubted whether I could finish it. I would break down, and that wouldn’t help him. Michael needed peace of mind. I couldn’t offer him that emotion.
Back on the third floor, I was in for a surprise. Jake and Penny weren’t alone in his room. His mother, Laura, and his brother, Ben, had joined them. Laura was using a tissue to blow her nose, the trails of her tears visible as I got closer to her.
“Good morning, everybody.” An unfamiliar, male voice filled the air. “I’m Graham Gordon of ‘Gordon & Associates.’” He introduced himself, brushing past me.
“Hey.” Jake tipped his head down in a polite manner. “You should know that Michael and I turned to Mr. Gordon for legal counsel. Explain to me how you found out we were flying that plane, because I don’t have a goddamn clue.”
“I wouldn’t have been so successful without the right connections, Captain Turner.” Gordon declared with a smug smile on his face. “May I speak freely?”
“Yeah,” Jake encouraged. “This is my mother, Laura, and my brother, Ben. Penny’s my girlfriend and Ava is Compton’s girlfriend. My brother’s the one that hacked into United’s database.”
“Interesting,” Gordon commented, flashing the teenager a glance of admiration. “I’ll get back to you later, kid. Now, your names haven’t leaked to the press yet, but they will. They’ll invoke the ‘freedom of information’ act, sooner or later. We need to come up with something to avoid the scandal. Any ideas?”
“Not really.” Jake’s voice came out slower.
“How about this? Someone discovered you were still alive. That someone was moved by your acts of heroism and put their computer skills to good use by falsifying your work records. One morning, you found a disk with those files in your mail, and decided: “What the hell? This is a great opportunity to work as a pilot again.’”
“Seriously, how long did it take you to come up with that scenario?” Penny asked, a touch of anger in her tone.
“I thought of it last night,” Gordon responded, his gaze on her. “Why?”
“Because it’s got to be one of the dumbest ideas I’ve ever heard,” she explained in emphatic tones. “We all knew that forging their work records could get them in trouble one day. I didn’t like it when Jake mentioned his plan to work for ‘Swift Cargo,’ but it was done. The question is: Can it be undone?”
“Hmmm…” Ben raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I might have an answer to that.”
“Well, don’t leave us hanging,” I groaned, taking a step closer to him.
“I said ‘I might,’” he pointed out. “I’m going to need a couple of days to know for sure. Mr. Gordon…?” he paused and shifted his gaze to the attorney. “How long do we have until my brother’s name and his co-pilot’s name are disclosed?”
“Three, maybe four days from the date of the accident, tops.” Gordon’s reply was sharp.
“Then, I guess I’d better work fast,” Ben continued, walking off towards the door. “Take care, everyone.”
“Let me be clear,” Gordon suggested, his voice gaining in volume. “If anyone notices the forgery, you and Compton will be prosecuted. However, given that neither of you have a technological background, there is a good chance of acquittal. Was there a hack? Yes. Were you the ones who carried it out? No. Is there any evidence that connects you to it? No. In any case, I doubt any airline would like to hire you after this scandal breaks out. It’s a matter of trustworthiness. If they can’t trust you, you’re useless to them. Get well, Captain Turner.” He patted Jake on the wrist. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, everyone.”
Graham Gordon’s visit served as a painful reminder of Michael and Jake’s predicament. To be honest, I had completely forgotten the little trick they had pulled in order to get hired at “Swift Cargo.” Michael’s fate had wiped this issue right out of my mind. To me though, this could wait. His health far outweighed anything concerning lawsuits and trials. I longed to see him back on his feet. And if anyone tried to send him to jail, we would deal with it in due time.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ava
Those conversations meant so little to me that I was able to forget them in minutes. No one could prosecute a dead person.
Forty-eight hours followed.
Two days, riddled with agony, heartache and tears.
I did have Penny there, which made things just a tiny bit better. More often than not, she would take me out for a stroll or suggest a visit to the nearby “Wendy’s.” And although I enjoyed the former, the latter sounded like a terrible joke. Why? Because I had lost my appetite. How could I eat anything, knowing that Michael’s life was hanging in the balance? Of course, this didn’t deter Penny. She thought that jealousy and my growling stomach would convince me to have something. She devoured a cheeseburger in front of me twice to achieve that. Unfortunately it was to no avail. My friend’s efforts were in vain.
Worse still, distractions were hard to come by. Almost every mainstream medium played videos of that plane crash. Incredibly, five people had documented the event. All five videos had ended up on TV, and those morons I called “colleagues,” were acting like this was part of a movie, where no one got hurt. They played that footage over and over again, dissecting it into segments. Takeoff. First sign of trouble. Turn. Lowering of the nose. Crash.
There were one or two who tried to provide some sort of service to the public, other than sell them the spectacular images of a plane bursting into flames. Those invited aviation experts to their shows. With their help, they wanted to figure out what had gone wrong aboard that fatal flight. To my satisfaction, they all corroborated Jake’s story about the plane taking on more weight than it should have. Somehow, amid pain and dizziness, he had managed to find the clarity to provide an accurate account of what had transpired.
But that detail felt trivial, just like everything else concerning this case. Besides, those videos were clear. The Beluga wasn’t flyable. I wasn’t an avionics expert, but I didn’t have to be. A moment after takeoff, it swayed in the wind and banked. Its pilots were struggling to gain altitude, but its engines were incapable of lifting that heavy bulk off the ground. In the end, Michael did what every decent pilot
would do in his stead. He tried to return to the runway, because he didn’t want to compromise the safety of the people around the airport.
On the morning of the third day, I ventured back up to the fourth floor. The elevator hadn’t ground to a halt yet, and I could hear a strong, male voice. With the barrier of the doors no longer blocking my view, I saw its owner. He was tall, perhaps even taller than Michael. Facing Anna, his proper posture reminded me of him. The man in question had silver hair and was much leaner than most people his age.
“Simon, for the last time, I’m not going anywhere!” Anna shouted in his face. “Our son is in there. I don’t give a rat’s ass about taking a shower or wearing a fresh set of clothes!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” I spoke in a hesitant voice.
“You didn’t,” Anna assured me. “Simon, this is Ava, the girl Michael’s been seeing.”
“His descriptions didn’t do her justice,” he offered me a polite smile and shook my hand.
“Thank you, sir.” I muttered, looking over at his wife. “Is there anything new on Michael’s condition?”
“No, dear,” Anna shook her head in disappointment. “His doctor has been…”
At that point, the sound of the old door being pulled open interrupted her. Dr. Payton emerged from the dark hall, the smile he had on his face causing a glimmer of hope to sparkle within me.
“Good morning, everybody. This is a good morning,” he began, settling his gaze on Anna. “The extent of your son’s injuries had been my major concern. We did stop the internal bleeding when he was brought in and administered coagulates to prevent it from reoccurring, but I wasn’t sure he would make it due to those injuries. However, I am happy to say that Captain Compton proved me wrong. His last scan shows signs of improvement. His internal injuries are beginning to heal. I’m having him transferred to a regular room by noon.”