Chapter 1

Lightning exploded outside the cockpit, its blinding light turning the cloud layers startlingly white. A second later, the plane plunged, and the red warning lights flashed on the dashboard.

My co-pilot, Jacob Zimmerman, white-knuckled the control stick. The vein at his temple throbbed. "Captain, the engine fire extinguisher will only temporarily keep the flames at bay. At the rate our fuel's dropping, we won't have enough to last 18 minutes up here!"

We were 34,000 feet in the air. The plane's right engine had caught fire. The plane's body was busted from the hail, and parts of the plane were losing pressure. Any of these malfunctions was enough to cost the lives of everyone on board.

Static briefly sounded through my headset, followed by Lara Kingsley's indifferent voice as she said, "Easthawk 791, maintain current altitude, continue holding. Do not descend until cleared by Aurora Control."

I clenched my fingers. "Mayday, mayday, mayday, Aurora Control, Easthawk 791. 314 passengers and 13 crew members are on board. As pilot-in-command, I request immediate landing."

Lara snorted. "Easthawk 791, request denied. The runway is under safety inspection. Continue holding and await further instruction."

Jacob whipped his head to look at me. Just half a minute ago, we clearly heard a cargo plane being granted permission to use Runway Two.

Lara had lied about that safety inspection, and she was determined to turn the only airport we could land at into my execution ground as payback.

I immediately switched radio frequency and called Sanderby Airport, which was 50 miles away. The air traffic controller responded almost instantly. "Easthawk 791, Sanderby Control, clearance approved. Heading 175, descend to 20,000 feet."

Everyone in the cockpit heaved a sigh of relief.

But not ten seconds later, the controller at Sanderby Airport spoke again. "Easthawk 791, landing clearance cancelled. Handover blocked by ACC. Unable to clear. Request denied."

Jacob blanched. "She even invoked area-control privileges?"

I said nothing and called the dual-use airport in the east instead. This time, a cold, mechanical voice answered on the other end of the line.

Lara interjected again shortly after, "Don't bother. All the nearby airports have received my directive. No runway will be cleared for you without my explicit permission."

A chill skittered down my spine. I knew Lara hated me, but I never thought she'd risk 327 human lives to prove it!

There was another flash of lightning, and a loud bang sounded outside the cockpit door.

The senior cabin crew member, Bethany Sullivan, reported on the interphone, "Captain, a passenger in row 12 is currently bleeding after getting struck by falling baggage, and three elderly passengers are experiencing breathing difficulties. The rip in the back of the plane is also widening as we speak!"

No sooner had I heard this than screams went off in the cabin. A wave of turbulence swept the plane upward again, then quickly sent it plunging.

Jacob pulled the control stick with all his might as the altitude numbers jumped frantically on the dashboard.

I stared at the fuel balance and hit the radio again, sounding urgent. "Ms. Kingsley, if you want to talk about the incident five years ago, fine. I'll undergo an investigation after landing and take whatever accusations you hurl at me, but the passengers are innocent! Clear them a runway first!"

For a few seconds, Lara was silent on the radio. Then she said, "If you want them to live, sure."

Just as I let out a long breath of relief and believed Lara had finally come to her senses, she drawled, "But on one condition."