Chapter 3 - The Boardroom in the Sky
The silence in the first-class cabin was total, heavy, and suffocating.
Rebecca Hayes stood frozen in the middle of the aisle, her jaw slightly slack, her pale eyes darting back and forth between Captain Ross’s terrified face and the sleek black titanium card in Ethan’s hand. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt bone-dry.
“Captain...” Rebecca whispered, her voice trembling now. “What... who is he?”
Captain Ross didn't answer her. He snatched the black card with shaking fingers and pulled the crew management tablet from his belt pocket. His thumbs were trembling so violently he missed the button twice before tapping the executive authorization app.
He held the camera sensor over the black card's embedded NFC chip.
A loud, piercing BEEP rang out from the tablet speaker.
The screen flashed a brilliant, pulsing crimson, followed by an immediate pop-up window in bold, gold lettering:
CLEARANCE LEVEL 0: RESTRICTED SYSTEM ACCESS
HOLDER: ETHAN BROOKS
TITLE: SENIOR MANAGING PARTNER / MAJORITY SHAREHOLDER - LIBERTY AIR HOLDINGS
STATUS: ACTIVE EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR
AUTOMATIC OVERRIDE: FULL OPERATIONAL COMMAND AUTHORIZATION ENABLED
Beneath the text, a direct, encrypted emergency link button turned bright green, displaying the private line of Elena Vance, Chief Executive Officer of Liberty Air.
Captain Ross stared at the screen. The color in his cheeks was completely gone now. He looked like a man standing before a military court-martial.
“Mr. Brooks...” Ross breathed out, his chest heaving under his uniform shirt. “Sir... I... I don't know what to say. I received a report from my crew that an unruly passenger—”
“You relied on the word of your purser,” Ethan interrupted smoothly, his voice cool and measured. “A captain who trusts his crew is normally a good captain. But a captain who fails to verify evidence before threatening a passenger with federal action is a liability to this airline.”
Ethan tapped his phone screen once.
“Captain Ross,” Ethan said. “Look at your tablet again.”
A second alert sounded on Ross’s device. A live video feed popped up on his screen. It was the high-definition footage recorded by the cabin monitoring system embedded near the overhead reading lights—a system Ethan’s investment firm had mandated for all upgraded aircraft.
The video played with crystalline audio:
“There you go, sir,” Rebecca’s recorded voice echoed clearly from the tablet speaker. “That should be enough for you.”
The image of the rotten, moldy sandwich hitting Ethan’s tray table.
Rebecca’s sneering face: “Everyone doesn’t always get exactly what they want.”
Kevin’s aggressive intrusion: “Meal availability can change during flight operations.”
The entire first-class cabin listened to the playback.
Robert Whitman let out a loud, booming laugh from seat 2C. “Well, well, well! Looks like the camera doesn't lie, does it, young lady?”
Rebecca felt her knees go weak. The blood rushed out of her head, and she had to reach out and grab the corner of an overhead bin to keep from falling. Her face turned from pale to a horrifying, sickly green—matching the exact shade of the mold on Ethan’s bread.
“Mr. Brooks...” Rebecca whimpered, stepping forward, her confident, venomous persona completely shattered into pathetic pieces. “I... I didn't know! I swear to God, I didn't know who you were!”
Ethan slowly turned his head to look at her.
His eyes were dark, steady, and terrifyingly calm.
“That, Ms. Hayes,” Ethan said softly, “is the entire point of this conversation. You didn't know who I was. You believed I was simply a defenseless man sitting in your cabin—someone without power, someone without a voice, someone you could humiliate and degrade simply because you felt like exercising your petty authority.”
“Please...” Rebecca sobbed, tears cutting tracks through her makeup. “It was just a mistake! A bad joke! The catering cart was mismatched, and I was stressed—”
“Do not lie to me,” Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp as a scalpel. “You didn't make a mistake. You deliberately chose to serve rotten food to a paying customer. You calculated that I would stay silent. You were wrong.”
Behind Rebecca, Kevin Miller looked as if he was going to throw up. He stepped backward toward the cockpit, frantically trying to put distance between himself and his lead purser.
“I... I was just following her lead, sir!” Kevin stammered, his voice cracking like a teenager’s. “I didn't see the sandwich! I didn't know it was spoiled! I was just trying to support my lead!”
“You supported abuse without checking the facts,” Ethan said, looking Kevin up and down with deep disdain. “You are just as culpable.”
Ethan reached out, took his black titanium card back from Captain Ross, and slipped it into his coat pocket. Then he picked up his smartphone.
He tapped the screen once, placing a call on speakerphone through the aircraft’s high-speed satellite network.
The ringtone chimed twice.
Then a sharp, powerful female voice answered over the crystal-clear speaker:
“Ethan? Is everything alright? Your flight was supposed to depart fifteen minutes ago.”
It was Elena Vance, the CEO of Liberty Air.
Captain Ross flinched as if he had been struck by lightning.
“Elena,” Ethan said calmly into the phone. “I’m sitting on the tarmac at JFK on Flight 347.”
“Is there a maintenance delay?” Elena asked, her tone instantly businesslike.
“No,” Ethan replied, looking directly into Rebecca’s terrified eyes. “We have an operational integrity failure in the premium cabin. I am currently staring at a plate of moldy food served to me by your lead purser, Rebecca Hayes, who subsequently threatened to have me removed by federal authorities when I pointed out the hazard.”
There was a three-second silence on the line.
When Elena Vance spoke again, her voice had dropped into a register of cold, absolute fury that made Captain Ross shudder.
“Ethan... repeat that name for me.”
“Lead Purser Rebecca Hayes,” Ethan said smoothly. “Supported by Flight Attendant Kevin Miller. Under the command of Captain David Ross.”
“Captain Ross,” Elena’s voice barked over the phone. “Are you on this line?”
Ross snapped to attention as if Elena were standing right in front of him. “Y-Yes, Ms. Vance! I am standing right here with Mr. Brooks!”
“You will hold that aircraft at the gate,” Elena commanded, her words dropping like heavy steel anvils. “You will not taxi. You will not push back. I am calling Port Authority and our ground operations director right now. I want security at that jetbridge in four minutes.”
“Understood, Ms. Vance!” Ross choked out.
The call ended with a sharp click.
May you like
Ethan set his phone back down on his tray table, folded his hands over his lap, and looked up at the weeping flight attendant.
“Now, Ms. Hayes,” Ethan said softly. “Let us see what else is sitting in your catering cart.”
