The engines.
The whispers.
The ventilation.
Everything.
Maya stared at him.
“I heard his voice.”
“I know.”
“Where is he?”
Aaron glanced toward the nearest flight attendant.
“Outside.”
Maya followed his gaze toward the window.
Lightning flickered.
For half a second, the F-16 appeared between black clouds like a ghost carved from steel.
Maya stopped breathing.
Aaron whispered, “He’s flying that aircraft.”
Leo had heard him.
The little boy looked at his mother.
Then at the window.
“Who’s Ethan?”
Maya could not answer.
Not yet.
Aaron continued quickly.
“Eight years ago, Ethan discovered a classified flight-control vulnerability being sold through a network inside several defense contractors. The people involved knew he’d found them.”
Maya shook her head.
“Ethan’s aircraft went down.”
“That’s what you were meant to believe.”
“I saw the report.”
“Fabricated.”
“I saw wreckage.”
“Planted.”
“There was a funeral.”
“No body.”
That last sentence struck harder than all the others.
