Calm.
Sharp.
Military.
“Valkyrie Seven, authenticate.”
The cockpit froze.
The businessman’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
The first officer whispered, “Oh my God.”
I swallowed once.
“Valkyrie Seven authenticates Delta-Niner-Blackbird.”
A pause.
Then another voice.
Lower.
Older.
Stunned.
“Valkyrie Seven… this is Raptor One. We read you.”
Something inside my chest tightened so violently I nearly lost my breath.
I knew that voice.
Major Caleb Ross.
At least, he had been Captain Ross the last time I heard him.
Ten years ago, he had been the last pilot in the sky who still believed I was alive.
“Raptor One,” I said, steadying the aircraft through another violent roll, “civilian aircraft Flight 728, Boeing 747, Seattle to Los Angeles. Captain incapacitated. First officer impaired. Aircraft encountered severe systems disruption in storm conditions. I have control for now.”
“For now?” Raptor One repeated.
