"They have a signed flight release," she said. "From the chairman. Issued at 9 this morning, with an emergency priority code. The crew is already aboard, and the tower has a conflicting order from me that they can't verify fast enough. It could take 30 minutes to untangle."
Through the window, the Meridian began rolling out into the white winter light.
The forecast called for heavy cloud and freezing temperatures at altitude. Perfect icing conditions. Exactly the kind of day the bad sensor would fail.
"Is there any way to stop it?" Vivien asked.
Caleb was already pulling off his coat.
"Yes," he said. "But I have to get inside."
* * *
Caleb ran.
Vivien ran with him, her heels abandoned on the lobby floor. And behind them came Keller's investigators, and half the crew of Hangar 4, including Troy Hadley, who had finally decided which side he was on.
The Meridian's engines were spooling up.
Troy got there first. He jumped into the nearest tug and parked it squarely in front of the aircraft's nose.
The pilots throttled back.
The test captain, a veteran named Ellen Brooks, slid her side window open.
"What the hell is going on down there?"
"Captain, you need to shut down!" Caleb shouted up. "Your number two air data sensor is compromised. The fault warning has been disabled. You won't know it's failing until it's too late."
Brooks stared down at him.
"Who are you?"
Vivien stepped up beside him.
"He's with me," she called. "And I'm ordering you to hold."
Brooks looked at Vivien. She recognized her.
She pulled her head back inside. And a moment later, the engines wound down.
The forward airstair began to lower. Caleb was climbing it before it touched the ground.
He didn't go to the cockpit. He wasn't there to fly anything.
He went straight to the forward avionics bay beneath the flight deck, and wedged himself inside on his back with a flashlight, the way he had done a thousand times in another life.
Outside, things were coming apart.
Test technicians shouted at Keller's investigators that nobody had authorized anyone to touch the aircraft. The ground crew stood frozen, unsure whose orders to follow.
Then a black SUV skidded to a stop on the apron.
Gideon Price stepped out. He had flown in that morning to watch the test from the observation deck. Behind him came three men from the company's private security contractor.
"Get that man off my aircraft," Gideon said. "He's trespassing. He's a terminated employee, tampering with flight hardware. Drag him out if you have to."
The three men started toward the airstair.
Vivien stepped into their path, in her stocking feet on frozen concrete, and did not move an inch.