Chapter 3 - Cold Read at 35,000 Feet
"Captain," Maya said, her eyes fixed on the instrument panel. "This isn’t an electrical malfunction. It’s an external signal lock. The primary computers aren’t dead; they’re being blinded by high-frequency data flooding the local area network."
Vance stared at her, dazed. "That’s impossible. Commercial satellite links don’t interface with the fly-by-wire bus directly."
"They do if there’s a rogue maintenance bridge plugged into the e-bay through the forward avionics bay access hatch," Maya replied. Her mind raced back to the incident that had ended her military career: an experimental jamming test that had blinded her wingman's instruments over the Nevada desert, causing a mid-air collision she barely survived. Her wingman hadn't made it. The contractor responsible for that faulty telemetry had vanished after an official inquiry.
"How would someone get into the e-bay mid-flight?" Vance wheezed.
"Through the first-class galley floor hatch," Maya said grimly. "Or through the forward cargo hold. Who had access before departure?"
Before Vance could answer, the aircraft shuddered violently. A blast of wind shear slammed into the airframe, rattling the bulkhead. The yoke in Maya’s hands bucked violently.
*PULL UP. TERRAIN. PULL UP.* The mechanical automated warning shrieked through the flight deck speakers, entirely inaccurate—they were over thirty thousand feet above deep water, yet the altimeter had suddenly plunged to zero on the primary display.
"Ignore the audio," Maya snapped aloud, anchoring her eyes onto the tiny, mechanical backup ball. "Level the wings. Trust the vacuum gauge. Ignore the synthetic horizon."
She hauled back on the column with both arms. The heavy transport resisted, its elevators groaning under the aerodynamic load, but slowly, stubbornly, the nose leveled. The aircraft stabilized in the pitch axis, the altimeter holding at twenty-six thousand feet.
Vance slumped sideways, his eyes rolling back.
"Captain!" Maya called out.
Vance did not reply. His pulse was thready, his skin clammy. He was fully unconscious.
May you like
Maya was entirely alone at the controls.
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