Dominic

Is he dead?

Mina

"Dan?" She tapped his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I think he's down for the count." Passenger 2:12B stood inside the door, gripping the frame on both sides of him.

My stomach soured. Every training session I had ever taken part in flashed before my eyes. And nothing in those Friendly Skylines simulated educational sessions had prepared me to deal with this type of shit storm.

The Asgardian god, Passenger 2:12B, headed back toward the cockpit. "Let's check the pilot?"

"Okay." Fear bubbled up inside my gut because Will was motionless on the floor, just as Dan had said.

Please, don't let him be dead.

"Where's the rest of the crew, Mina?" Passenger 2:12B glanced over his shoulder, holding me captive in his line of vision. "And don't tell me they're all resting because it's a long flight."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. In all honesty, I wasn't sure exactly how much I should relay to this man.

Well, my Asgardian god, the bulk of the crew is down with the flu, food poisoning, or something else, so take your pick, which means we're gonna crash, burn, and fuckin' die.

Yeah, somehow, I didn't think that would be appropriate. But, hey, the passengers had a right to know what was going on, right?

A vivid image of mass chaos marching up and down the aisle of the plane made bile slide up into the back of my throat.

"Mina." Filipe's musical tone caught my ear. "What's going on? I heard the page."

Right behind Filipe, Barry walked in a hunch.

"Check on Dan." I pointed to the unconscious copilot inside the chamber where I had just left him.

"What's he doing in there?" Filipe's eyes widened. "Wait, is that vomit?" He pointed to a spot on the floor.

"For God's sake, keep your voice down." I silenced him with a finger to my mouth. "The door's opened, and the last thing we need is panic rippling through the plane."

Barry, looking even paler than before, took a few more steps, then he leaned against the wall.

"What's he doing in here?" Barry swirled his hand inside the cockpit.

"Who?" Confusion etched my mind.

"The passenger." Barry closed his eyes for a couple of seconds.

"Oh, fuck," the two words slipped out between my lips in a breathy whisper.

Turning my attention to the passenger, I found 2:12B kneeling on the floor next to the pilot, his fingers pressed to the downed man's neck.

A shiver shot up my spine, and for the second time today, bile slid up into my throat, and I yet again, found myself swallowing it.

"Is he . . . is he dead?" I held on to the frame of the door, and my knees knocked together.

"No, he's breathing." Passenger 2:12B rose to full height, making the confined space feel smaller with everyone in the room. "Let's see what we have here."

He walked over to the control panel and seemed to be inspecting the instrument readings, and then he took a seat in the pilot's chair.

"What are you doing?" My voice rose a few octaves, and I shot a glance in Barry's direction.

Grabbing the headset, he slipped it on, then motioned for me to do the same with the second set.

I took a seat and reached for the other headset, hands shaking.

He winked at me, and with a comfortable ease, he flipped on the intercom system.

"Luxembourg tower, this is Friendly Skylines 9304 from DFW—Dallas, Texas—to Luxembourg, over."

My mouth hung open, and I just stared at him.

"This is LUX tower," a voice crackled. "Friendly Skylines DFW9304 caller from Dallas, Texas, I hear you loud and clear. How do you hear me?"

"Fine, LUX, over," he replied, "I gotta declare an emergency. Both the DFW9304 pilot and copilot are unconscious. We need assistance up here."

"This is LUX." A slight delay hit the line. "DFW9304 caller, please identify yourself."

"This is DFW9304 passenger 2:12B, Dominic Leavitt." He turned to face me. "Flight attendant Mina Melchor is on the line as well." He paused a moment. "Say hello, Mina."

"Hi, this is," static crackled in my ear, "h-hello, this is Mina."

"Stand by caller." A series of clicks resonated, then the man said, "Friendly Skylines 9304 from DFW to LUX, did you say your flight crew is down?"

"Affirmative, I repeat, the DFW9304 flight crew is down and unable to land the aircraft. Currently," he tapped one of the instruments, "we're on auto-pilot at thirty-eight thousand and leveling out to maintain a speed of four hundred-and-twenty-five knots at this elevation."

"Wait, do you know how to fly?" My heart jumped into my throat.

"Yeah, I flew for the Russian military, among other entities."

"DFW9304 passenger, this is LUX Tower II. Am I to understand you're able to fly a Boeing 747-400?" Another male voice hit the line, but this one was older.

"That's affirmative, LUX Tower II." His voice contained an air of confidence. "This DFW9304 Passenger can fly and land the craft."

"DFW9304 Passenger, please provide fuel reading and number of souls on board."

"LUX Tower II, DFW9304 has eighteen hundred kilograms of fuel." He caught my gaze. "How many passengers and crew are there, Mina?"

"Um, twelve crew members, an air marshal, a copilot, and the captain." With my eyes closed, I pictured the people seated in each section. "Let's see, you're the only one in the global first-class seats, thirty in the flat-bed BusinessFirst seats, fifty-seven in the economy plus seats, and then one-hundred-and-ninety-six seated in the economy section."

"LUX, DFW9304 has fifteen crew members—including the air marshal and pilots—plus, another two-hundred-and-eighty-four on board for a grand total of two-hundred-and-ninety-nine. I repeat 299 combined souls."