Trust him?
I barely knew him, other than he pretended to be someone else. The threat of what would happen if I disobeyed was what drove me into the seat, not trust. As I put on the headset and evaluated the instrumentation, he hovered behind me like he was uncomfortable or unwilling to sit in the copilot’s seat. Was it a sign of respect, or was he watching to make sure I didn’t try anything?
Having the yoke in my hands calmed me to a level where I could focus, and I clung to the idea that I was in control of the situation, even when it was a tailspin I couldn’t correct.
I radioed the tower and got clearance for takeoff. My body went through all the motions, and when the nose was pointed down the runway, I turned to glare up at him.
“Sit down. We’re taking off.”
He did so, reluctantly. “Do you need me to do something?”
“No. Do nothing. You’re good at that.” The bitter words burned on my tongue and seemed to sting him as intended. My anger was all over the place. Gio was the one who’d killed my crew, my friends, but... Ethan hadn’t done a thing to stop him. Now I was the only survivor of my team.
Again.
Not only was he exceptionally quiet during takeoff, he alsodidn’t move a muscle. Like his body had gone into some sort of suspended state. As we climbed toward cruising altitude, I glanced at him. He looked determined. Collected.
It only made me angrier.
I leveled off, engaged the autopilot, and pushed the yoke free. Fire stung in my eyes as I looked at him, demanding he speak.
“I did everything I could to try to save them,” he said. “I was trying to save you.” His eyebrows pulled together, and his expression was full of remorse. “He’s unpredictable, and I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Unpredictable?”I said, my voice raised. “People are dead because of yourmistake.”
“You think I don’t know that? I’m the one who put their goddamn bodies on the plane.”
Gio’s voice came through the open door, asking something, and Ethan growled out a response. Footsteps approached.
“No,” I said, my pulse racing. I couldn’t have the murderous piece of shit enter the only sanctuary I had left, shattering the illusion of safety and control I clung to. “Tell him to stay out of my cockpit.”
Ethan said something, and the footsteps stopped. The heavy, quick breathing said Gio lingered just outside the doorway. There was a terse conversation between the men.
“We’ve discussed how to handle the situation of landing in Rome. He’ll have someone at the airport make sure the officials stay away.”
I balled my fists, and my nails bit into my palms. My emotions threatened to tear me apart, but the footsteps faded as Gio returned to his seat.
This couldn’t be happening. I wouldn’tallowthis to happen. I had to do something.
Maybe I could get the drug from Ethan and slip it into Gio’s drink. If he was unconscious, that would be?—
Wait a minute.
I didn’t need a drug to achieve that.
My O2mask would fall from the portside overhead compartment, and oxygen flowed longer to the pilots’ masks. All I had to do was switch off the airflow valve from Engine One and wait for the air to thin enough to make the masks drop.
Either Gio would ignore the mask and lose consciousness quickly, or he’d take it and stay locked in his chair until his supply ran out. The chemical generator had ten minutes at the most for passengers, considerably more for the cockpit.
I’d get him on the ground in one piece as requested. Ethan hadn’t said shit about Gio’s brain being damaged by hypoxia. I eyed the airflow switch, hesitant, but Ethan interrupted my thoughts.
“What are you thinking about?”
He didn’t seem like the type, but a lot of people panicked when oxygen masks appeared. I had to hope the large man beside me would remain calm. Fifteen minutes at the most, then I’d switch the airflow back on, or drop below ten thousand feet.
“I’m thinking about what’s going to happen to us after we land,” I lied.
It took a tremendous effort to casually reach forward and toggle the switch to off and confirm the decision when the warning alert sounded. I checked the gauges and pretended this was all normal, as if I wasn’t about to cut off the oxygen supply in the cabin.
