Chapter 4 - WHAT WAS UNDER THE SEAT
David snatched the drive off the carpet before either security officer reached him.
“Back up.”
One officer stopped.
The other did not.
“Sir, hand over the device.”
“On whose authority?”
“Airport security.”
“You didn’t know it existed thirty seconds ago.”
Mercer pushed forward.
“It was hidden inside an aircraft. It could contain malicious software.”
David held the drive between two fingers.
“Interesting choice of words.”
Mercer stared at it.
David rotated the casing.
A faded white label ran along one side.
JA-X9 / DEV UNIT.
His stomach tightened.
Johnson Aerotech.
Lena Park saw the marking.
Her head snapped toward him.
“That’s yours.”
“It’s my company’s label.”
Mercer found his voice again.
“So your hardware was hidden under a Mesa seat, and now you’re refusing to surrender it.”
Catherine looked from Mercer to David.
“This is a setup.”
Mercer laughed.
“For whom?”
David slipped the drive into his inside jacket pocket.
“That’s what I’m going to find out.”
The security officer held up a hand.
“Sir, if you leave with possible evidence from an aircraft—”
“Then seal the aircraft and call federal investigators.”
No one moved.
David looked at Lena.
“Ground the flight.”
She glanced toward the terminal.
“On what basis?”
“Unauthorized device in a restricted access panel. Unauthorized seat reassignment tied to executive credentials. Deleted crew instructions. Pick one.”
Mercer cut in.
“The flight will not be grounded because of a family dispute.”
Malik flinched.
David turned so slowly that Mercer stopped speaking.
“This stopped being a family dispute when somebody hid my company’s device under a passenger seat.”
His phone buzzed again.
Unknown number.
He opened the message.
IF YOU FOUND THE DRIVE, DO NOT GIVE IT TO MESA.
David’s thumb froze.
A second message arrived.
AND DO NOT LET FLIGHT 227 TAKE OFF.
He looked toward the cockpit.
The door was still open.
Pilots were going through preflight checks.
The normal rhythm suddenly sounded wrong.
Switches clicking.
A printer chattering.
A baggage cart grinding outside.
The aircraft was still preparing to leave.
“Dad?” Malik said.
David showed Lena the texts.
She read them and went still.
Mercer reached for the phone.
David pulled it away.
“Who sent that?” Mercer demanded.
“You tell me.”
“I have no idea.”
“You seem to have no idea about anything today.”
Catherine touched David’s sleeve.
“Can we copy the drive?”
“I need a clean machine.”
Lena nodded toward the gate office.
“We have an isolated terminal used for baggage audits.”
Mercer blocked the aisle.
“No.”
Lena faced him.
“Move.”
“You don’t have authority to remove company material.”
“Neither do you if this is evidence.”
For a second, neither executive moved.
Then the airport manager stepped between them.
“I’m locking the aircraft door open and pausing boarding.”
Mercer spun toward him.
“You do that and I’ll have your badge by lunch.”
The manager’s hand trembled.
He pressed a button on his radio.
“Gate 14, hold boarding. Do not close Flight 227.”
Mercer’s face changed.
He stepped away and started typing rapidly into his phone.
David noticed.
“Who are you texting?”
Mercer ignored him.
David guided Malik toward the jet bridge.
Catherine followed.
“Why are you coming?” David asked.
“Because the message was sent to my tablet. If someone deletes more records, I want to see it happen.”
They crossed into the gate office.
Lena powered up the isolated terminal.
“No network connection,” she said. “Nothing leaves this room unless we transfer it manually.”
David inserted the drive.
A password window appeared.
ENCRYPTED VOLUME.
Three failed attempts remaining.
“Don’t guess,” Lena said.
“I’m not going to.”
David zoomed in on the device label.
JA-X9 was an old prototype designation from a telemetry security project canceled three years earlier.
Only six units had ever existed.
He knew where five of them were.
The sixth had vanished during a lab move.
At the time, everyone assumed it had been misplaced.
His phone vibrated.
Unknown number again.
David opened it immediately.
NOT THE DEVICE PASSWORD.
THE AIRCRAFT.
Then another line appeared.
CHECK WHO WORKED 227 BEFORE BOARDING.
Malik leaned over his arm.
“The guy with the cut hand.”
David looked at Catherine.
“Can you identify maintenance personnel?”
She nodded.
“I know most of the senior ramp techs.”
Lena pulled up security stills from the gate corridor.
Thumbnail after thumbnail loaded.
Workers in reflective vests.
Cleaners.
Caterers.
Baggage handlers.
Malik pointed.
“There.”
A man in blue coveralls was walking away from Flight 227.
Dark hair.
White rag wrapped around his left hand.
Catherine leaned toward the screen.
Her mouth opened.
“I know him.”
David looked at her.
“Who?”
“Luis Ortega. Senior avionics technician.”
Lena was already searching the roster.
Her eyes moved across the screen.
Then stopped.
“That’s impossible.”
“What?”
“Luis called in sick this morning.”
She turned the screen toward them.
STATUS: ABSENT — MEDICAL.
David looked back at the security image.
The timestamp read 8:17 a.m.
Twenty-four minutes before Malik’s seat was altered.
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
David answered.
Static filled the line.
Then a man whispered three words.
“They found me.”
May you like
The call died.
