The airplane was controllable, but every task now required more attention than normal.
Without the autopilot, Liam had to hand-fly continuously while also processing abnormal indications and preparing for a diversion.
Air traffic control offered vectors toward the nearest suitable airport.
Liam accepted.
“We’re not continuing to London,” he told Warren.
“No argument here.”
The airplane jolted again, not as violently as before but enough to move Warren against his harness.
Liam’s grip tightened.
“Easy,” Warren said.
“I am easy.”
“No.
You’re strong.
Strong isn’t the same thing.”
Liam glanced at him.
Warren nodded toward the controls.
“You’re fighting movement that already stopped.”
Liam loosened his grip by degrees.
The aircraft settled.
“Better,” Warren said.
Liam let out one breath.
“Magic Hands?”
Warren stared at him.
“Who told you that?”
“Jillian.
She heard your daughter.”
Warren almost smiled.
“Haven’t heard it in a while.”
“Were you that good?”
“One damaged airplane got me an embarrassing nickname.”
“One?”
“One was enough.”
Liam’s eyes stayed forward.
“I’ve got about eight hundred hours.”
Warren heard the confession underneath the number.
Not enough, Liam feared.
Warren had known pilots with thousands of hours who made bad decisions and young pilots who made excellent ones.
Experience mattered.
So did discipline.
So did knowing when to use the help available.
“Eight hundred hours got you through the first ten minutes,” Warren said.
“Those were ugly minutes.”
Liam swallowed.
“Captain would’ve handled it faster.”
“Probably.”
The blunt answer surprised him.
Then Warren added, “He isn’t flying.
You are.”
Liam nodded once.
That was all he needed.
The next phase demanded preparation rather than reaction.
Liam coordinated the diversion while Warren supported him with callouts and checklist items under instruction.
Cabin crew secured the passengers.
Emergency services were requested for the landing because of Captain Stevens’s injury and the unresolved aircraft faults.
When Jillian returned briefly to the cockpit, Liam gave her the plan.
She listened, then looked at Warren.
“Your daughter wants to know if you’re okay.”
