By force if necessary. Captain Miller himself emerged from the cockpit. He was a veteran pilot with silver hair. He looked at the scene, at the woman in 1A, and at the legendary Dr. Vance, whom he'd only read about in aviation magazines.
Mom, he said to Catherine, his voice in iron command. Get out of that seat. Now you are exiting my aircraft. Catherine Harrington, for the first time in what was likely her entire life, realized she was in a fight she could not win. The karma was just beginning to hit, and the plane hadn't even been fully deboarded.
The deplaning was a slow, humiliating process for everyone except Emily Vance. She was escorted off first, flanked by the apoplelectic Robert Strategic and the deeply concerned Agent Franks. The other passengers followed a river of muttering confusion and live streaming. The Harringtons were the last to be removed. As they were not yet under arrest, they were simply detained for questioning, which meant they were being escorted by two stone-faced Port Authority police officers, officers Chen and Davies.
The scene at gate C12 was pure chaos. Gate agents were frantically trying to rebook hundreds of furious passengers. An entire inconvenience sign had been set up with bottled water and snack-sized pretzels. A comically small gesture given the multi-billion dollar meltdown unfolding. Emily, Robert, Agent Franks, and Captain Miller had sequestered themselves in the glasswalled gate supervisor's office.
Emily, please. Robert Strategic was pleading. He was sweating through his suit. You can't ground the fleet. We're talking 70 aircraft.
It will cost us. It will cost the industry hundreds of millions a day. Think of the supply chain, the passengers. I am thinking of the passengers, Robert, Emily said. She was sitting poised on the edge of a desk, her tablet now plugged in and displaying diagnostic data.
I'm thinking of the passenger in 1A, me, who was assaulted. I'm thinking of a safety culture that has clearly eroded to the point where a passenger's privilege is valued more than a passenger's safety. It was a mistake, Robert insisted. William is new. Sarah was in the galley.
And and Mrs. Harrington, she's well, she's what, Robert? A valued customer, more valued than me. She's Mark Harrington's wife, Robert exploded, finally saying the quiet part loud. Of Harrington Capital.
They're one of our largest institutional investors, Emily. They own 8% of our stock. There was a heavy silence. Agent Franks rubbed his temples. Captain Miller just stared at his shoes, disgusted.
Emily's face didn't change, but a new dangerous light flickered in her eyes. Harrington Capital, she repeated, tasting the name. 8%. That's significant. Yes, Robert said, grabbing at this perceived understanding.
So, you see, it's complicated. Mark Harrington is on the phone with our CEO right now. This is a nightmare. Can't we just blame the flight attendant? Get you a new flight and and I'll have the Harringtons banned for life.
We'll make it right. Emily looked from Robert to Agent Franks. Agent Franks, as the FAA representative here, what's your take? Does 8% stock ownership entitle a passenger to assault another and compromise a flight's security protocols? Frank side, Dr.