Chapter 5 - The Crew Speaks.
Avery called Maya back immediately.
The number went straight to voicemail.
She tried again.
Nothing.
Ward wanted to contact local police.
Noah objected.
"If Camille has people watching official channels, the moment you make the call she will know."
Ward looked at him through the rearview mirror.
"You are assuming a lot."
"I am surviving a lot."
Avery raised a hand.
"Both of you stop."
They did.
She hated how familiar that felt.
At Falcon Ridge, panic had never announced itself as panic.
It had arrived disguised as overlapping voices, conflicting information, and people trying to solve the same problem in different directions.
Her job then had been to reduce noise.
It was her job again now.
"We do not go to Camille's house," Avery said.
Noah frowned.
Ward nodded.
"Good."
"Not yet," Avery added.
Ward's relief vanished.
Avery took out her phone.
"First I call my crew."
Within an hour, five former members of Falcon Ridge Team Seven were sitting in a private conference room at a veterans' center Ward trusted.
No one had worn a uniform.
That made the reunion feel more intimate and more dangerous.
There was Marcus Lee, the medic who had broken his wrist helping two passengers down the rear ramp.
There was Dana Brooks, the communications specialist who now taught emergency management at a community college.
There was Evan Price, the copilot who had spent the last year flying cargo routes overseas.
Noah sat at the end of the table.
One chair remained empty.
Maya's.
Avery stood at the front.
"I owe all of you an apology," she said.
Marcus shook his head immediately.
"No."
"You do not even know what I am apologizing for."
"Does not matter."
Dana gave him a look.
"Let her finish."
Avery placed the photocopied report paragraph on the table.
"The final Falcon Ridge report blamed a command delay that did not happen."
The room changed.
Evan leaned forward.
"What report?"
Avery looked at him.
"You never saw it?"
"I signed a crew statement."
Dana nodded.
"Same."
Marcus pushed the paper away.
"Nobody showed me that."
Noah opened his laptop.
"Seven minutes were removed from the operational data."
Evan's face went pale.
"That is the whole descent."
"Exactly," Avery said.
She told them about Camille's gala stunt.
They had all seen the video.
Marcus muttered something under his breath.
Avery continued.
She told them about the maintenance form, the Stratton shielding unit, Reese's arrival at the museum, and Maya's phone call.
When she finished, no one spoke for several seconds.
Then Dana stood.
"I have something."
Avery stared at her.
Dana pulled a small notebook from her bag.
"I kept my handwritten comm log."
Noah sat forward.
"You were supposed to turn that in."
"I turned in the official pages."
She opened the notebook.
"This was my pocket backup."
Avery almost smiled.
Dana had always prepared for the system to fail.
It was one of the reasons Avery had trusted her.
Dana found the relevant page.
Her handwriting was tight and slanted.
Beside the time 14:22 was a note.
SHIELD TEMP ALERT BEFORE AUTO WARNING.
At 14:23 another line appeared.
CMD DESCENT NOW.
Evan read over her shoulder.
"That proves the timing."
Noah shook his head.
"It supports it."
He tapped the table.
"The diagnostic file proves it."
Marcus leaned back.
"Then why are we acting like Avery is the one who needs defending?"
Avery looked at him.
"Because somebody has spent two years preparing a version where I am the problem."
Dana closed the notebook.
"Not anymore."
Her phone buzzed.
Then Evan's.
Then Marcus's.
Within ten seconds, every phone at the table lit up.
Avery checked hers.
A new article had been posted by a national defense news site.
FORMER FALCON RIDGE CREW QUESTION COMMANDER MONROE'S JUDGMENT.
Avery opened it.
The article cited unnamed members of her own team.
It claimed several crew members had privately expressed concern about her decisions during the emergency.
Marcus stood so fast his chair nearly fell.
"I never said that."
"Neither did I," Dana said.
Evan's jaw tightened.
"They are using us."
Avery kept reading.
The final paragraph stated that Camille Sloane, described as a former review liaison, had called for "transparency and compassion for everyone affected."
Marcus laughed without humor.
"Compassion?"
Avery's phone rang.
This time the caller ID showed MAYA TORRES.
Everyone went silent.
Avery answered on speaker.
"Maya?"
There was background noise.
A door closing.
A car engine.
Then Maya's voice.
"I am okay."
Avery gripped the edge of the table.
"Where are you?"
"I cannot tell you yet."
"Did Camille hurt you?"
"No."
Maya's answer came too quickly.
Avery caught it.
"Maya."
"She knows about the copy," Maya said.
"She knows Noah contacted you."
Noah leaned toward the phone.
"Do you still have the full file?"
A pause.
"Yes."
Everyone exhaled.
Then Maya added, "But the file is not the most important thing anymore."
Avery felt the room tighten again.
"What is?"
Maya's voice lowered.
"The maintenance order has two signatures."
Noah looked at Avery.
"We saw Camille's."
"Not that one," Maya said.
"The original."
Avery stood completely still.
"Whose name is on it?"
Maya whispered the answer.
"General Thomas Ward."
Every face turned toward Ward.
He did not move.
Avery stared at the man who had saluted her in front of the entire gala.
Ward's expression looked less like guilt than recognition.
That frightened her more.
"General," Avery said, "what did you sign?"
May you like
Ward's voice was almost inaudible.
"Something I was told had never been used."
