Code Black (36 page)

“Cyrus.” Leo leaned forward as he began. “The level of betrayal you’ve displayed here is morally and professionally reprehensible. I don’t need a court to deal with you. You’re fired—and you will stay quiet regarding this matter. If you fail to do so, and decide to make use of any public forum, then I will make sure that the Securities and Exchange Commission is made aware of your actions. Legal or not, I will destroy you and everything you have. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I’d like to add a caveat of my own.” Donovan stared at the devastated CEO. “If you go public with anything you learned today, then I will release the tape to the media myself.”

“You can’t threaten me!” Cyrus cried out weakly.

“It’s not a threat,” Donovan countered. “It’s a promise. I have more resources that you can imagine. If you force my hand, I will wreck havoc on you at every level imaginable.”

“Now go,” Leo said, dismissing Cyrus with a flip of his wrist. He pushed the intercom button and quietly instructed someone to relieve Cyrus of his security credentials and escort him from the building.

“Thank you.” Leo held out his hand to Donovan after Cyrus had left the room. “Well done, Mr. Nash. It would seem I am deeply indebted to you. You’re a brave and resourceful man—your father would have been proud of you.”

Donovan was stunned. He searched Leo’s face for any sign that the words held anything other than the meaning they implied.

“Yes, I know who you are. I, too, overheard Henry and Dr. McKenna. Though until you walked into this room, I’ll have to admit I didn’t believe it.” Leo smiled as he reflected. “I knew your father fairly well before he and your mother died. I watched with more than a passing interest as you grew up. I was deeply saddened by your own death, so you can imagine my surprise when I learned the truth today. Now, here you are—like some kind of avenging angel come back from the dead.”

“That wasn’t exactly my intention,” Donovan confessed as he shook his head solemnly. “I would have preferred that none of this happened. But hopefully, everything has worked out the way it was supposed to.”

“Nothing much I did today worked out. I foolishly listened to Cyrus instead of Henry. I had a hand in stopping Henry from taking the first airliner. If I’d listened and helped, then Audrey wouldn’t have been hurt. Her injuries are my responsibility. God forbid, she dies. I’ve made so many mistakes today, been naive and gullible at the hands of someone who I thought was a trusted advisor.”

“You didn’t know,” Donovan said. “What’s done is done; the important part is what you do next.”

“I fear I must finally listen to my critics and step down,” Leo said in a strained voice. “In the face of all that has transpired today, perhaps I don’t deserve to be at the helm of this company any longer.”

“I disagree. You have a chance to make amends. I hope you can see that right now isn’t the time for a change of leadership. Wayfarer is in the middle of its first fatal accident since you started the airline. Your firm hand is what’s called for. Later, perhaps, you can quietly step down and name a successor.”

Leo studied Donovan, the stress seemed to momentarily lift itself from his heavily lined face. “You might be right. As I recall, you were quite the business leader in your day, as was your father. If you were in my place what would you do? I’d love to hear the thoughts of the late Robert Huntington.”

Donovan allowed himself a brief smile as he calculated his response. “You really want to hear what I have to say?”

“Of course,”

“I’ve watched you and this airline since it’s inception. You started out as a crop duster in west Texas. From those sparse beginnings you started one of the most successful startup airlines in history. Why do you think you made it while so many others failed?”

“Luck, hard work.” Leo’s eyes narrowed as if he’d remembered something, a fragment from a long-forgotten past.

“And good people,” Donovan added.

“Yes, good people are key. You know, after I started this airline, I was fortunate to receive a great deal of funding from a west coast venture capital entity. All I ever managed to discover was that it was hinted to have originated from Huntington Oil money. I always assumed that it was someone who knew of my past relationship with your father, but I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

“Over the years, I made various investments, and one of those was Wayfarer Airlines.”

“Then I’m even more indebted to you than I thought.”

“Not at all,” Donovan said. “My initial investment paid off handsomely. It was a very beneficial transaction.”

“I remember now. It was at one of the venture capital meetings. Someone handed me Henry Parrish’s resume. With the none-too-subtle suggestion that Henry should join the team.”

Donovan smiled at that small detail he’d orchestrated. “It was a favor I owed him. Which brings us back to the earlier question,” Donovan continued, secure with where he was taking this conversation. “You can’t really leave this airline. Even as a figurehead your presence is invaluable to your employees and customers. But you can promote yourself. If it were me, I’d make myself chairman emeritus, sit back and turn over the day-to-day operations to someone else—someone who has the same maverick spirit you showed for so many years. Someone who would go to extreme lengths to do what’s right, for not only the company, but for the passengers as well.”

“Are you suggesting who I think you are?” Leo arched an eyebrow as he processed what Donovan had said.

“Years ago he worked for me,” Donovan said. “I can’t think of another person who would work as hard for you as Henry. He reminds me a little of you, once upon a time, don’t you think?”

“Well I’ll be damned.”

“Later, after you deal with all the post-crash damage control, you can simply announce that Cyrus Richtman has resigned, and that Henry Parrish has been named the new CEO. Since he’s the hero who saved flight 880, I think it would work beautifully. I’d bet the board of directors would gladly sign off on any scenario you might recommend.”

“I’ll have to give all of this some thought. But I will admit what you’re proposing has some merit.” Leo slowly brought himself to his feet. “But speaking of damage control, I think I have a certain TSA agent I need to speak with. I’d also like to make a copy of that tape.”

“I’ll make sure you receive a copy.” Donovan said. “I’ll be making one for myself also.”

“What else can I do for you?” Leo asked.

“I have one simple request.”

“Don’t worry,” Leo said, and placed a fatherly hand on Donovan’s shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me. But I don’t have any idea what Cyrus might do. His thirst for revenge might be more than we can anticipate.”

Donovan nodded that he understood. If Cyrus was going to act, it would probably happen very quickly. The fallout would be swift and unyielding. He needed to get with Lauren and make preparations. “Do you think you could convince Agent Preston to allow Henry and company to land here at O’Hare? I think we’ve determined that there were never really any terrorists.”

“Yes,” Leo said firmly, a new energy charging through the old man.

Donovan could only watch as Leo had a private word with Preston. He had no idea what was said, but afterwards Preston jumped on his radio and began to issue a barrage of orders.

“Done,” Leo said as he rejoined Donovan. “What else can I do for you?”

“Have we heard anything yet from the hospital?” Donovan asked. “Do we know anything about Audrey or John?”

“Nothing yet,” Leo replied, his voice full of concern. “If we’d have heard anything, I’d be the first to know.”

Both men turned as Preston walked up to them.

“I’ve spoken with my superiors in Washington. In light of what I’ve just been told, the fighters have been recalled,” Preston announced, a different, more reverential disposition in his voice. “Your airplane is free to return. But I’ll need to interview each of the people on board before they’re released. I’d also like to have a word with Mr. Richtman. There’s a possibility he’s facing federal charges of obstructing justice.”

“Let’s deal with him later,” Leo said.

“Has the weather come up any?” Donovan asked to no one in particular. “Can Henry’s plane land back here?”

“I’ve spoken with the tower,” Glen said, walking over and joining Donovan and Leo. “Technically, Henry’s aircraft is still an emergency in progress. They can pretty much do what they want. The weather has improved slightly. I think they could make it in.”

“If they can land here, can we have them taxi to Wayfarer’s hangar facility?” Donovan asked. “I think that would be smarter than bringing them to one of the gates. My guess is there’s probably an army of media waiting in the terminal.”

“I agree,” Leo said. “We can send Henry a message.”

Donovan thought for a moment. “Just tell him to bring that airplane home and we’ll have transportation ready to get him and Matt to the hospital.”

“Done.” Leo authorized the message with a simple nod. Moments later Glen sent it via ACARS, a glorified airborne fax machine. The words would be printed out in Henry’s cockpit in a matter of seconds.

“How can I get to the hangar? I’d like to be there when they land.” Donovan looked around for Emmett, but couldn’t find him. “I also need to retrieve Dr. McKenna’s purse. I think she left it here?”

“I’ll drive you there myself,” Preston said as he signaled one of his men to get the purse Cyrus had given him earlier. “I need to be there when they disembark.”

“Let’s go then,” Donovan said. He turned and put his hand out to Leo. “It was a distinct pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you for everything you did today.” Leo shook Donovan’s hand. “I’ll be in touch.”

Preston pointed at one of his men to let him and Donovan through the door. Once free of Operations he radioed that he wanted a vehicle standing by. When he was confident his orders had been received, he turned to Donovan. “I have one question for you, though.”

“What’s that?” Donovan said as they stepped out into the blizzard. He searched for Emmett’s truck—but it was nowhere to be seen.

Preston yelled above the howling wind. “Just who in the hell are you?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

“Do you see them yet?” Preston asked as he strained to find the Boeing out of the window of the truck.

“Not yet.” Donovan looked at his watch. “It’s only been two minutes since Henry and company had reported over the final approach fix. Give them another minute or so and they should be down.”

Donovan and Preston had left Operations and were now making their way to the Wayfarer hanger across the field. Donovan had been listening to the transmissions between Henry’s jet and the control tower. The weather had improved slightly. Donovan had every confidence that Henry and Michael would have the 737 on the ground shortly.

“I think I hear something.” Preston cracked his window.

Donovan turned his head slightly and began to pick up a familiar sound—the noise a jet engine makes as it goes into reverse thrust. Donovan scanned the darkness until out of the gloom the distinct shape of a Boeing 737 appeared. Henry had the jet in maximum reverse; the billowing snow thrown up by the engines obscured the entire back half of the plane. The airplane was ablaze with lights as it raced past them on the nearby runway.

“Wow!” Preston said as the Boeing disappeared in a cloud of snow.

“O’Hare Tower, this is Boeing 31 Whiskey Alpha,” Michael transmitted from the 737. “We’re down and clearing onto taxiway Tango Four.”

“Roger 31 Whiskey Alpha,” Kate replied. “You’re cleared to taxi north along the parallel to your hangar. Welcome home.”

“Roger,” Michael said.

“How much further?” Donovan asked.

“We should get there about the same time they do.” Preston said. “We’ll take taxiway Juliet to Yankee, come in the back way.”

“How do you expect this to go down?”

“How many people are on this jet?” Preston asked. “Do you know all of them?”

“I think there are only four people,” Donovan said. “I know two of the four very well. One is my fiancée, Dr. Lauren McKenna, plus Michael Ross, who is a man I’ve worked with for years. The other two are Henry Parrish and his son Matt.”

“How old is the son?”

“He’s a teenager.”

“It could take a while. I’ll need to interview each person myself and get a statement. If I think we’re all in the clear as far as the law is concerned, they could be free to go by late tonight—possibly tomorrow.”

“We don’t have that kind of time,” Donovan said. “Especially Henry and Matt. Matt’s mother was one of those injured on 880. She’s in critical condition. Is there any way you can do this later?”

“Afraid not.” Preston shook his head. “I’ve got the top brass of Homeland Security breathing down my neck on this one. Anything I do here must be cleared at the highest level.”

“Really?” Donovan cocked his head to one side and looked at the TSA agent. He knew Leo Singer had promised to get on the phone to straighten out a few things. “How long has it been since you’ve spoken with Washington?”

“If there was something going on they’d find me,” Preston said. “Trust me on that one—my boss isn’t particularly shy about things like that.”

Donovan held on as Preston stepped heavily on the brakes and made a wide left turn. Down the row of hangars, through the heavy snow, he could just make out the bright glow of powerful lights. “That must be them.”

“Has to be,” Preston said as he straightened out the truck. He stepped on the gas and went as fast as he dared. “We’re almost there. The lights you see on the right are coming from the hangar.”

Donovan could see that the huge doors to the hangar stood open, and the 737 was being guided directly into the building. Official vehicles, red lights flashing, lined both sides of the airplane. The 737 taxied slowly into the hangar and came to a gentle stop. Immediately, the doors began to close. Preston brought the truck to a halt alongside a group of armed men.

“This section is off limits!” a plainclothes official with a gun said as Preston rolled down his window.

“It’s okay,” Preston called out.

The man shined his light inside the truck and inspected the occupants. Then, turning to his partner, said, “Let them pass.”