Chapter 5 - THE MAN WHO LEFT THE WARNING
David hit redial.
No connection.
He tried again.
Nothing.
“Trace the number,” he told Lena.
“I can’t from here.”
“Then call someone who can.”
Catherine was already dialing.
“I have Luis’s personal number.”
She put the call on speaker.
One ring.
Two.
Voicemail.
Luis’s recorded voice filled the office.
“Leave a message.”
Catherine ended the call.
“That wasn’t the number that called you.”
“No.”
Malik tugged David’s sleeve.
“Dad, the ambulance.”
David looked through the terminal glass.
Across the ramp, an emergency vehicle had stopped near a service corridor.
Two paramedics pushed a stretcher toward it.
A man lay strapped down, oxygen mask over his face.
His left hand hung over the side.
A white bandage wrapped the palm.
Malik pressed closer to the glass.
“That’s him.”
David was already moving.
He hit the gate door at a run.
“Sir!” the airport manager shouted.
David flashed his visitor credential at the ramp agent and kept going.
Lena followed.
Catherine stayed with Malik for three seconds, then grabbed his hand and ran after them.
The wind off the tarmac shoved at their clothes.
Jet fuel burned in the air.
A baggage tractor cut across their path.
David went around it.
The paramedics were lifting the stretcher into the ambulance.
“Luis!”
The man’s eyes opened.
One paramedic turned.
“Back up, sir.”
“I know him.”
Luis jerked against the straps.
His oxygen mask slipped.
“David.”
The paramedic stared.
“You know his name?”
Luis grabbed at the mask with his good hand.
“Drive.”
“What?” David asked.
Luis’s eyes locked on him.
“The drive.”
“I have it.”
Luis exhaled hard.
“Don’t give it—”
His body seized.
The monitor beside him alarmed.
The paramedic pushed David back.
“We need space.”
Luis’s hand flailed once and caught David’s jacket.
His fingers closed around the lapel.
“Temperature,” he rasped.
David bent closer.
“What temperature?”
“Numbers.”
“Which numbers?”
Luis’s grip tightened.
“Watch the temperature numbers.”
His eyes rolled shut.
The paramedics pulled his hand away.
The ambulance doors slammed.
Then two airport police officers came around the vehicle.
One carried handcuffs.
“Luis Ortega?” the taller officer asked.
The paramedic looked over.
“He’s being transported.”
“We have a detention order.”
“For what?” David said.
The officer looked at him.
“Unauthorized access to restricted aircraft systems and theft of proprietary data.”
Catherine stopped beside David.
“Who filed the complaint?”
The officer checked his screen.
“Mesa Airlines Corporate Security.”
Lena swore under her breath.
David watched the ambulance pull away.
Luis had hidden the drive.
Someone had beaten him or chased him into that corridor.
Now Mesa was trying to arrest him before he reached a hospital.
Malik was breathing hard from the run.
“Dad, what did he mean by temperature?”
David looked back toward Flight 227.
Its auxiliary power unit whined beneath the tail.
The aircraft was still alive.
Still preparing.
“Come on.”
They hurried back.
Mercer was waiting at the gate door.
“You left a controlled area without authorization.”
David walked past him.
“Ground the plane.”
“I already told you—”
“Ground it.”
Mercer caught David’s arm.
David stopped.
Every person around them stopped too.
Mercer let go.
David leaned in.
“A technician hid evidence under my son’s seat, someone tried to erase the trail, that technician was found injured, and your corporate security filed charges against him before the ambulance doors closed.”
Mercer’s nostrils flared.
“You have no idea what he stole.”
David heard it.
So did Lena.
“What did you just say?” she asked.
Mercer’s eyes shifted.
David took one step closer.
“You said I have no idea what he stole.”
“I meant allegedly stole.”
“No. You didn’t.”
Mercer looked toward the terminal.
Then at his phone.
A message had arrived.
He read it and walked away without another word.
David watched him go.
Catherine whispered, “He knows.”
“Yes.”
They boarded Flight 227 again.
The captain stepped out of the cockpit.
“Mr. Johnson, I understand there’s a concern with an electrical system?”
“Show me the forward electronics temperatures.”
The captain frowned.
“Those aren’t normally passenger-accessible.”
“I build the telemetry equipment your airline uses.”
That got his attention.
The captain motioned him into the doorway.
On the cockpit maintenance display, every primary temperature field showed green.
AVIONICS BAY: NORMAL.
POWER CONVERSION: NORMAL.
FORWARD E-BAY: NORMAL.
David stared.
Too clean.
“Open the secondary diagnostic page.”
The first officer looked at the captain.
“Do it,” the captain said.
The page changed.
Raw sensor values appeared.
David’s throat tightened.
One line was climbing in real time.
107°F.
110°F.
114°F.
The primary display still showed NORMAL.
The secondary sensor hit 118°F.
Then 119.
The captain whispered, “That can’t be right.”
David pointed at the two screens.
“One of them is lying.”
May you like
And the temperature kept rising.
