“Then who is controlling us now?”
Ethan hesitated.
“That’s the problem.”
Maya looked at the flight displays.
The commands were still coming.
Celeste stood behind her.
“It isn’t me anymore.”
Aaron entered.
“Then who?”
Everyone looked at Reeves.
Reeves raised both hands.
“Not me.”
Maya stared at the instrument panel.
Someone else.
Still connected.
Still sending commands.
Someone aboard Flight 417.
Ethan said, “The transmitter has limited range.”
“How limited?”
“If Celeste’s override is disconnected from satellite relay, whoever has control now must be inside the aircraft.”
Maya’s mind raced.
“Passenger?”
“Or crew.”
Aaron’s expression hardened.
“We searched the obvious suspects.”
Maya suddenly remembered Ethan’s first warning.
Someone aboard Flight 417 s/@/botaged your aircraft.
And Maya…
They’re sitting beside your son.
She stopped.
Not “he.”
Not “she.”
They.
Maya had assumed Ethan was avoiding gender.
But maybe he meant something else.
“Ethan,” she whispered, “when you said they were beside Leo…”
