Austin ducks behind a parts crate and holds his breath. From here, he has a clean line of sight to the SV-1 parked just outside on the apron. Two mechanics work under the left wing, running through the flap linkage assembly.
Austin watches the way a hawk watches a field: still, patient, catching everything.
The senior mechanic reaches for an electric torque wrench. Fast, efficient. He zips through the flap bracket bolts: one, two, three, four, barely pausing between them.
Austin's eyes narrow. His father's notebook—the one he has read so many times the pages are soft as cloth—says it clearly on page 44, underlined three times: After electric torque, always verify manually. Always.
That mechanic skipped it. Every single bolt.
Austin waits until the crew leaves for lunch. The tarmac goes quiet. Just heat, silence, and the ticking of hot metal.
He walks to the wing. His heart pounds, but his hands are steady. He places his palm flat on the underside of the left wing near the flap hinge assembly. He closes his eyes. He feels the surface: temperature, texture, the faintest vibration of metal at rest.
Then, he pulls the tap hammer from his back pocket.
He taps the first bracket.
Ping. Clean. Bright. Good metal.
Second bracket.
Ping. Same tone. Healthy.
Third bracket. Inboard hinge. He taps.
Thunk.