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Quickly, Jake tapped into the frequency. “Owen Roberts International,” he said, a little relieved. “We’re here. What’s up with your communications, Owen Roberts?”
“We’ve sustained a massive cyberattack on air-to-ground communications,” explained the voice. “Currently, all flights are suspended or postponed. All landings are non-viable. Please adjust the course and find an alternative landing point.”
“We can’t,” said Johnny, quietly. “We don’t have the fuel to return to LAX.”
“Is it possible you can find an emergency landing at Kingston or Miami International?” said Jake.
“I don’t know,” said Johnny. “We’re almost out of fuel.”
“WHAT?” I asked. I was breathing hard, sucking deep gulps of air into my system. I put my hands on my stomach, remembering what was at stake.
“I fueled for a return trip to Grand Cayman,” said Johnny, “I didn’t plan for a possible diversion to another airport in Miami or elsewhere. We had just enough to make it to Grand Cayman.”
“Any emergency fuel onboard?” asked Jake. I was amazed—and a little frightened—by the calm patience with which he handled the scenario. His military training was already kicking in, I guess.
Johnny shook his head. “I’m … I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what to do.”
There was a moment of quiet as all three of us looked death in the face. No one knew what to do or say. Then, slowly, Jake spoke.
“Let me take the controls,” he said. “Owen Roberts, returning communication. We are out of fuel and out of time. I’m landing this plane on your airstrip.”
“You can’t!” I said, “We could crash, or…”
“Does anyone have a better idea?” he said. “I’ve avoided air collision in a dogfight. I’m pretty sure I can do it over an airport.”
Johnny scrambled out of the chair, and I watched Jake take the wheel. He put on the headset, looked at the controls for a minute, then gripped the wheel of the plane and pulled it slowly outwards.
Within a few seconds, we’d begun a perilously steep descent. “Go and strap yourselves in,” Jake ordered.
Johnny had left the cabin, red-faced and ashamed. I stayed for a moment, looking at Jake.
Jake turned to me. His eyes were still gleaming the way they always did. But his expression was soft, and he smiled at me gently. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
I looked at him, and if it weren’t for the fact we were diving right toward the ground at a terrifying speed, I could almost have breathed a sigh of relief.
Chapter 14
Jake
Itwasn’tthebestof conditions, but we made it. The plane ended up perched on a verge at the far end of a runway. The last thing I thought about before I aligned the plane and made the landing, was Alicia and the baby. As I watched the flashing lights of the emergency crews coming out to meet us across the airport, I heaved a sigh of relief, and finally let the stress I’d been under during the landing show.
We arrived at 9:15 p.m. but didn’t leave the airport for two more hours. First, I had a shouting match with an enormous, ignorant executive, who criticized me for trying to land. When I explained, however, that if we hadn’t landed on Grand Cayman we might have been ditching in the ocean, his expression softened a bit and he began to pat me on the shoulder, calling me “very brave.” As we exited the airport, the skeleton crew who’d remained on while flights were suspended applauded. But I wasn’t in the mood, and exhausted, Alicia, Johnny, and I hailed a cab outside the airport.
“You saved our lives,” said Alicia. She was still in shock, numbed by the event. By the time I’d sent Johnny to his hotel, we were alone on the empty, desolate strip outside the airport. I took her in my arm and let her rest an exhausted, slightly jet-lagged head against my shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “We’re safe here.”
Of course, there was a slight problem. We were stuck in Grand Cayman now. Tom and Stephen Andrew’s flights had, of course, been re-directed. We were the only members of the supposed investment meeting who’d actually landed on the island. Typical.
I called Tom from the airport. “We’re here,” I said weakly. While I still looked my usual self, on the inside, my nerves were shattered. It had taken every fiber of my resolve to land the plane safely.
“Glad to hear it,” said Tom. “You’re gonna have to rest up out there, I guess. Look, I’ll take care of things with Stephen in Miami.”
“Sure thing,” I said. Secretly, I wasn’t happy about having Tom meet the investors on his own. His reckless business plans and willingness to go over my head had left a bad taste in my mouth lately. But there was nothing I could do. And at least with the visit to Grand Cayman postponed, the pace at which he could work against me had slowed down somewhat.
The cyberattack on Owen Roberts had worried me. The truth was, I’d already realized how it could happen. If there had been an inside operative who tampered with the system—that was the only way air-to-ground communications had been suspended. And the attack had taken place at 8:30 p.m. local time—exactly when we began our initial descent.
I thought I was crazy at first. The idea that someone might have targeted a whole airport just to put me and Alicia in danger was crazy. And then I remembered the call I’d got in the car, warning me not to go to Grand Cayman. Was it from a friend? Or was it from an enemy who would stop at nothing to get me to miss out on the meeting … even murder?
