“Don’t open it,” Vance ordered smoothly.
He signaled the armed security officer standing at the cabin door.
“We need an inspection of the compartment housing before anyone departs.”
The passengers in First Class grew restless, but nobody complained. The atmosphere had transitioned from a petulant seating dispute into a high-level operational lockdown, conducted with clinical precision.
Marcus took his daughter’s hand.
“Zara, sit in 1A for now. Elizabeth, please keep the forward curtain drawn. We are keeping this area isolated until Port Authority security finishes.”
Zara did as she was told. She slid into 1A, placed her notebook on the tray table, and watched the reflection of the cabin in the dark oval window.
Captain Miller emerged from the flight deck. He adjusted his cap, looking at Marcus with immediate respect.
“Marcus, operations briefed me over the company radio. What are our orders?”
“We aren’t pushing back until Vance sweeps the locker and Julian Croft’s terminal access is revoked across every regional server,” Marcus stated without hesitation. “Safety takes absolute priority.”
