If he wants you off, you get off. We can sort out the contract dispute on the ground. Please don't make us use force. Nia sighed. She looked at Frank, the duty manager.
Frank looked uncomfortable. He knew Vanguard was a big client, but he also hated domestic disputes on the tarmac. "Frank, is it?" Nia asked. "Yes, ma'am." Frank said, "Frank, before these officers put their hands on me, I suggest you check the ownership registration of this aircraft, not the operator Vanguard operates it. I mean, the owner." Silas rolled his eyes.
It's owned by a leasing shell company like all of them. "Stop wasting time. Check it, Frank," Nia said softly. "Please." Frank hesitated. He pulled out his iPad.
He logged into the FAA registry database. He typed in, "Mate VS." The color drained from Frank's face. He looked at the iPad. Then he looked at Nia. Then he looked back at the iPad.
His hands started to shake. Captain Gregson," Frank said, his voice trembling. "What?" Silas snapped. "You, you might want to look at this. I don't care who owns the damn plane," Silas yelled.
"I work for Vanguard." "Vanguard pays me." "And I say she goes." "Captain," Frank said louder this time, stepping between the police and Nia. The aircraft is registered to Helix Medical Group. The LLC manager is listed as Nia Cross. The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush bones. Silas froze.
What? "She owns the plane," Frank whispered. She doesn't just charter it. She bought it two days ago. Nia stood up again.
She dropped the magazine on the floor. She wasn't the tired passenger anymore. She was the boss. "Actually, Frank," Nia said, her voice cutting through the air like a scalpel. I didn't just buy the plane.
Helix Medical acquired Vanguard Elite Aviation this morning at 9:00 a.m. London time. I'm not just the owner of the plane, Captain Gregson. She took a step toward the horrified pilot. I'm the CEO of the company that signs your paycheck. The silence on the tarmac at Teterboro was broken only by the whip of the wind and the distant roar of a departing Gulf Stream inside the cabin of the global 7500.
The atmosphere was suffocating. Captain Silas Gregson stood frozen, his hand still hovering near his radio. His brain was misfiring trying to process the information Frank had just delivered. She owns the plane. She owns the airline.
It was impossible. In his world view established over 50 years of rigid social hierarchies. Women like Nia Cross did not buy airlines. They worked for them or they married the men who owned them. They didn't stand in hoodies and leggings and dissolve a man's career with a single sentence.
"That's That's a lie," Silas stammered, his face, flushing a deep mottled crimson. He turned on Frank, the duty manager. "You're reading it wrong. It's a glitch in the registry, or it's a shell company with a similar name. Do you know how common the name Cross is?" Frank shook his head slowly, stepping back.
He wanted no part of the blast radius that was about to occur. It's not a glitch, Silas. The FAA registration matches. The acquisition press release is on the Bloomberg terminal right now. It just hit the wire.
Helix Medical Group acquires Vanguard Elite Aviation for $450 million. Silas felt the blood drain from his legs. He looked back at Nia. She hadn't moved. She was watching him with a look of clinical detachment, like a surgeon observing a tumor that needed to be excised.
"Captain Gregson," Nia said, her voice eerily calm. "I asked you to fly the plane. I gave you an opportunity to do your job. Instead, you chose to humiliate a passenger based on your own prejudice. You chose to delay a critical flight because you didn't like my shoes.
"I was following security protocol," Silas shouted, his voice cracking. He was desperate now, grasping at straws. I have a right to question suspicious passengers. You You didn't identify yourself as the owner. That's entrapment.
"I identified myself as a passenger," Nia corrected him. That should have been enough. A passenger who paid a passenger with valid ID. You didn't need to know I was the owner to treat me with basic human dignity. You needed to be a decent human being.
You failed. Nia turned to the police officers who were still standing on the stairs looking unsure of what to do. Officers, Nia said, "I would like this man removed from my aircraft immediately. He is trespassing." The senior officer nodded. The dynamic had shifted instantly.
In the eyes of the law, Silas was no longer the authority figure. He was an ex employee, causing a disturbance. "Come on, Captain," the officer said, reaching for Silas's arm. "Let's go." Silas jerked his arm away. "Don't touch me.
I am the pilot in command. You can't just kick me off. Who is going to fly the plane?" Dave. He spun around to point at his first officer, who was standing in the cockpit doorway. Dave isn't typed for command on this bird yet.
He's just a warm body. "You need me?" Silas turned a smug grin back to Nia. See, you played your hand too early, Miss CEO. You fired the only guy who can get this bird off the ground. You want to get to LA.
You need me. So, here is how this is going to work. I'm going to go back to the cockpit. We're going to forget this little power trip of yours, and when we land, we'll discuss my severance package. It was a bold, arrogant bluff.
He thought he had the leverage of logistics. Nia didn't even blink. She looked past Silas to the cockpit. Dave. Dave Miller straightened up.
He had been silent this whole time, watching his mentor implode. Dave was a good pilot, quiet, hardworking, and he had hated Silas's bullying for months. "Yes, Miss Cross," Dave said. "Are you current on the left seat?" "I just finished my check ride last week, ma'am," Dave said, his voice steady. "I’m fully certified as captain on the Global 7500." Silas just didn't want to update the roster because he likes the seniority pay.
Silas's jaw dropped. He whirled on Dave. "You traitor! You told me you failed the sim. "I lied, Silas," Dave said, stepping out of the cockpit, his face hard.
"Because I knew if I passed, you'd make my life miserable until you retired. I'm rated. I can fly this plane." Nia nodded. Dave, you are now the acting captain of this flight. Do we have a relief pilot available at Teterboro to sit right seat?
Yes, ma'am. Dave said. Jennifer is in the crew lounge on standby. She can be here in five minutes. "Call her," Nia said.