Maya smashed it against the metal seat frame.
Once.
Twice.
The casing broke.
She tore out the circuit board.
The aircraft lurched.
Then stabilized.
In the cockpit, Torres screamed:
“I have control!”
Passengers erupted.
Some cried.
Some laughed.
Some prayed.
Maya closed her eyes.
Then the warning horn sounded.
Torres’s voice came over the intercom.
“We have another problem.”
Maya ran back.
“What?”
“Fuel.”
The display showed a terrifying number.
Reeves shook his head.
“The forced descent and throttle commands burned far more than planned.”
“Nearest airport?”
“Too far.”
“Azores?”
“Maybe.”
Ethan interrupted.
“You won’t make it.”
Silence.
Torres looked outside.
“What about Lajes?”
“Headwind. Not enough.”
Reeves studied the numbers.
“There’s nowhere else.”
Maya looked at the navigation display.
Ocean.
Nothing but ocean.
Then Ethan said something impossible.
“There is somewhere.”
Maya frowned.
“Where?”
“Turn heading two-six-zero.”
“That’s west.”
“Trust me.”
Maya almost laughed.
“Your timing is spectacular.”
