He put the phone down. He folded his hands. He said nothing, but the look on his face said everything. 53 minutes to Chicago. The seat belt sign was still off.
The engines hummed. And somewhere in the first class galley, Victoria Ashford poured herself another glass of champagne, confident that she had won. She had no idea that the woman in row 34 had just added the final line to a document that would end her career, her reputation, and her freedom. All before the landing gear touched the ground. The captain's voice came over the intercom.
Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Chicago O'Hare. Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts. Karen fastened hers. She looked at her father's watch. 2 hours and 14 minutes since she had boarded this plane as the owner of Meridian Airways.
2 hours and 14 minutes since a woman she hadn't seen in 15 years had thrown her out of her own seat. She pulled out her phone and made one call. Gerald Karen, how was the flight? Gate B22. Bring the team.
Legal, HR, and security. All of them. Gerald Whitmore had been Karen's COO for 4 years. He had heard her calm. He had heard her frustrated.
He had never heard her voice sound like this. Flat, precise, stripped of everything except intent. How many people are we talking about? Two crew members, possibly more. I'll brief you on the ground.
We'll be there," she hung up. She put the phone in her bag. She closed her eyes for the first time in 2 hours. The plane descended through the clouds. The wheels dropped.
The runway appeared, gray and long and final. The aircraft touched down at 12:47 p.m. Central time. The engines reversed. The plane slowed, turned, and taxied toward gate B22.
The seat belt sign turned off. Passengers stood, overhead bins opened. The usual rush to exit began. Then the captain's voice came again. Ladies and gentlemen, I've been asked to request that all passengers remain seated for a moment.
We have personnel boarding the aircraft. This will only take a few minutes. Thank you for your patience. Murmurs rippled through the cabin. Victoria, standing near the first class galley, frowned.
Derek stepped out of the cockpit and looked at her. She shrugged. The forward door opened. Gerald Whitmore stepped aboard first. Gray suit, silver tie, 6'1.
Behind him came two women in Meridian corporate blazers, one from legal, one from HR. Behind them, two uniformed Meridian security officers. Gerald didn't look at first class. He didn't greet Victoria. He didn't acknowledge Derek.