And I saw her backpack. It looks ragged. Who books a Global 7500 and carries a backpack like that? I'm telling you, it's suspicious. It could be a stolen identity credit card scam.
It happens. Silas, come on. Dave sighed. That's above our pay grade. If the company cleared her, we fly her.
Not on my watch. Silas snapped. I'm the pilot in command. I'm responsible for the safety of this vessel. If I have a bad feeling about a passenger, I have the authority to deny transport.
And I have a bad feeling. Silas stood up. He unbuckled his harness. Where are you going? Dave asked, alarmed.
I'm going to have a little chat with Ms. Cross. See if her story holds water. Silas stormed out of the cockpit. He adjusted his hat, making sure he looked imposing. He marched into the cabin and stood directly over Nia.
Nia was typing on her phone. She sensed the looming presence and looked up. She removed one earbud. "Can I help you?" she asked calmly. Silas stared down at her, expecting her to shrink.
Most people did when a captain in full uniform glared at them. I need to see your identification and your boarding documents. Now, Nia blinked. I already showed them to the gate agent and the flight attendant. And now you're showing them to me, Silas said, his voice booming in the small cabin.
"I’m the captain. My word is law. ID. Now," Nia's expression hardened. She didn't scramble.
She didn't apologize. She simply reached into her bag, pulled out her passport, and held it up. Silas snatched it from her hand. He opened it, scanning the pages aggressively. He was looking for a flaw, a smudge, anything to justify his bias.
Nia Cross, he read aloud, almost mocking the name. No middle name. No, Nia said. Is there a problem, Captain? She looked at his name tag.
Gregson. The problem, Silas said, closing the passport and tossing it back onto her lap. A disrespect that made Andrew gasp from the galley. Is that I don't believe you're the primary on this contract. Who paid for this flight?
Your boyfriend, your label. The cabin went deadly silent. The air pressure seemed to drop. Nia slowly picked up her passport. She placed it deliberately back into her bag.
Then she looked dead in the eye. Her eyes were dark, intelligent, and currently very cold. "I paid for it," Nia said quietly. "And I'd appreciate it if you went back to the front and did your job. I have a meeting in LA at 4 Thursday. p.m." Silas's face turned red.
He wasn't used to being spoken to like staff, even though technically he was. Listen to me, little girl. Silas leaned in, invading her personal space. I don't know who you think you are or what game you're playing, but I don't fly untrustworthy passengers. You don't fit the profile.
And until I'm satisfied that you aren't a security risk or a fraud, this plane doesn't move. I don't fit the profile. Nia repeated her voice, dropping an octave. And what profile is that, Captain? The profile of someone who can afford a $50,000 flight?
Silas sneered. Now answer the question. What do you do for a living that affords you this jet? Because looking at you, I'm guessing it's not Wall Street. Nia stared at him for a long beat.
"I’m a doctor." Silas laughed. It was a harsh barking sound. A doctor, right? And I'm the king of England. Let me guess, you're 25.
You haven't even finished med school. "I’m 32," Nia said. "And I’m a neurosurgeon." Sure you are. Silas waved a hand dismissively. Look, I'm done with this charade.
I'm calling ground security. You're going to be escorted off for a full background check. If you're legit, maybe we fly tomorrow. But today, you're off. You're making a mistake, Nia said.
She didn't raise her voice, but the authority in her tone was unmistakable. It wasn't the authority of someone who yelled. It was the authority of someone who knew the outcome before the game had even started. The only mistake was letting you board. Silas shot back.
He turned to Andrew. Open the door. Get the stairs back down. Call ops and tell them we have a non-compliant passenger who needs removal. Captain.
Andrew stammered, tears welling in her eyes. Please, she's she's done nothing wrong. She's just sitting there. Are you disobeying a direct order? Silas roared, causing Andrew to flinch physically.
I said, "Open the door or you can get off with her and look for a job at McDonald's. Don't speak to her like that," Nia said sharply. She unbuckled her seat belt and stood up. She wasn't tall, maybe 5'5, but standing she radiated a dangerous calm. She pulled her phone out.
"I’m giving you one chance to de-escalate this, Captain Gregson," Nia said, "Go back to the cockpit. Fly the plane. Apologize to Andrew. If you do that, we can pretend this was just a bad morning." Silas looked at her like she was insane. "You're giving me a chance, lady.
You are delusional." He grabbed his radio from his belt. "Ops, this is Tail 998 Vanguard." I need security at the stand immediately. I have a hostile passenger refusing to deplane. Nia watched him make the call. She didn't try to stop him.
She simply unlocked her phone and dialed a number. "Who are you calling?" Silas demanded. "Your lawyer. Save your money." Nia ignored him. She put the phone to her ear.
"Hello?" "Yes, it's Nia. I'm at Teterboro, tail number N998VS. Yes, I have a situation. No, the pilot is refusing to fly. Reason?
He says I don't fit the profile. Yes, he's calling security to have me dragged off. Okay, I'll wait. She hung up and sat back down. Security is on the way, Silas said smugly.
I hope you enjoy the view from the back of a police cruiser. We'll see, Nia said. She crossed her legs and opened a magazine. Minutes later, a Teterboro operations vehicle and a police cruiser pulled up to the jet. The stairs were lowered.
Two police officers and the Teterboro duty manager, a man named Frank, walked up the stairs. Silas met them at the door, chest puffed out. Officer, thanks for coming, Silas said, shaking the cop's hand. Passenger in 1A. Belligerent refused to identify properly potential fraud risk.
I exercised my authority to deny carriage, and she refused to leave. The officer looked at Nia, who was still reading the magazine. "Ma’am, you need to come with us." Nia looked up. "I’m not going anywhere, officer." I have a contract for this flight. Ma'am, the pilot is the final authority on the aircraft.