Warren remembered a damaged F-16 shuddering beneath him while voices on the radio suggested an ejection.
He remembered refusing to chase every warning at once.
Fly what still worked.
Identify what did not.
Solve one problem before allowing the next to become two.
The men in his squadron had called him Magic Hands afterward.
Warren had always thought the name misunderstood what happened.
His hands had not been magic.
They had simply remained calm after fear arrived.
“Aircraft is drifting left,” Warren said.
“I see it.”
“Small correction.”
Liam corrected.
“Hold that.”
The bank stopped.
Warren watched the instrument scan without touching anything he had not been asked to touch.
When Liam needed a checklist referenced, Warren located it under direction.
When air traffic control called, Liam delegated the radio exchange long enough to concentrate on maintaining stable flight.
Warren repeated instructions precisely, never pretending knowledge he did not have.
That restraint impressed Liam more than bravado would have.
Behind them, Captain Stevens stirred.
“Patterson.”
Liam turned his head slightly.
“Captain?”
“Status.”
“Stable for the moment.
Autopilot remains unavailable.
We’re working the cautions.
Former Air Force pilot is assisting.”
Stevens opened one eye and studied Warren.
“What did you fly?”
“F-16s, sir.”
“How long ago?”
“Nine years.”
Stevens grimaced through the pain.
“Then don’t touch anything Patterson doesn’t tell you to.”
“That was my plan.”
A weak sound escaped Stevens that might have been a laugh.
“Good plan.”
He closed his eyes again.
In the cabin, the passengers knew almost none of this.
They knew only that the airplane had stopped making the worst of its sudden movements and that the worn-looking man from seat 8A had disappeared through the cockpit door.
Norah sat upright with Catherine’s teddy bear pressed under her chin.
Jillian had placed herself nearby after returning from the cockpit.
The tech CEO across the aisle had gone silent.
He stared at the closed cockpit door, then at Norah.
Finally he said, “Your dad really flew fighters?”
Norah looked at him suspiciously.
“He said he used to fly.”
The man rubbed the shoulder that had bumped Warren during boarding, as though remembering the moment for the first time.
“I didn’t know.”
Norah hugged the bear tighter.
“You didn’t ask.”
The words were simple enough that several nearby passengers heard them.
The CEO looked down.
Inside the cockpit, the immediate crisis was becoming a different kind of danger.
