“Ethan was.”
PART 7
THE NIGHT THE SKY FILLED WITH FALCONS
Five fighter aircraft emerged from the clouds.
Maya stared through the window.
For one heartbeat, she thought they were rescue escorts.
Then Ethan shouted:
“They’re not ours!”
The newcomers spread into formation around his F-16.
Captain Reeves swore.
“How can military aircraft not be ours?”
Ethan answered.
“Export variants. Private contractors.”
Holt smiled.
“You spent eight years chasing ghosts, Ethan.”
“And you spent eight years believing I was alone.”
Her smile vanished.
Maya heard it.
Something in Ethan’s tone.
Confidence.
Not fear.
“What did you do?” she asked.
Ethan said, “Maya, get everyone seated.”
“Why?”
“Because this is about to get loud.”
Maya almost smiled despite everything.
She remembered that voice.
The voice Ethan used seconds before doing something impossible.
“Torres,” Maya shouted, “strap in!”
Flight 417 banked again.
Holt’s remote commands were forcing the descent.
Eight thousand feet.
