Chapter 6 - Gate B14
The aircraft taxied slowly past the international terminal, turning into the domestic satellite wing before grinding to a halt at Gate B14. The seatbelt sign chimed with its customary double ding.
Instantly, the cabin erupted into the chaotic symphony of post-flight deplaning: overhead bins snapping open, backpacks being swung recklessly, coats being pulled over shoulders.
At the front door, Mark the purser and Brianna stood side-by-side, flashing synthetic, mechanical smiles as the passengers filed past.
"Thank you, have a good day... Thank you for flying with us... Goodbye..."
Brianna beamed especially bright when Mr. Henderson, the first-class passenger, walked out. "Don't forget to text me, Derek," she purred, winking.
"Count on it," he grinned, slipping into the jetway.
Meanwhile, in row 24, Caden Vance remained seated until the aisle was almost clear. He didn't rush. He pulled his modest duffel bag from under the seat in front of him, slung it over his shoulder, and walked forward with steady, deliberate steps. Behind him, Kylie walked up the aisle with a stack of leftover flight magazines, her eyes downcast.
As Caden reached the forward exit door, Brianna’s smile instantly vanished, replaced by an expression of cold disgust.
"Move along, sir," she said, waving her hand toward the exit as if shooing a stray animal. "Don't block the aisle. Some of us have turnaround inspections to finish."
Caden stopped right at the threshold of the aircraft door. He turned to face her, his height towering over her, his stained pants in full view.
"You're not going to thank me for flying with your airline, Brianna?" Caden asked softly.
Mark stepped forward, his eyes narrowing aggressively. "Look, pal, you’ve been hovering around the crew all flight. Step off the aircraft before I call Port Authority security to escort you off for interfering with flight crew."
"Call them," Caden said calmly.
Brianna laughed out loud, leaning against the galley bulkhead. "You are completely delusional. Do you think you're special? You're a nobody in wet pants. Now get your pathetic ass out of my jetway before Mark has you banned from the airline for life."
Caden tilted his head, studying her face as if memorizing every contour of her arrogance.
"Your uniform has the company motto stitched on the inside collar," Caden said quietly. "'Service with Honor, Dignity to All.' Do you know who wrote that motto, Brianna?"
"I don't give a damn who wrote it," she sneered, snapping her gum. "Probably some dead guy in an ivory tower who never worked an eight-hour shift in his life."
"I wrote it," Caden said.
Brianna and Mark stared at him for two seconds—and then Mark burst into roaring laughter, slapping his thigh.
"Did you hear this guy?" Mark howled. "He wrote the motto! What are you, the ghost of the founder? Get out of here, you lunatic!"
Brianna shook her head with sheer mockery. "Security! Can we get security down the jet bridge? We have a psycho at door 1L!"
Caden didn't flinch. He simply turned around and walked out into the jetway.
Brianna rolled her eyes, turning back to Kylie who was standing just behind them. "Did you hear that psycho, Miller? That's your hero. A complete nutjob. Next time, give him two cups of coffee and maybe he’ll—"
Brianna’s voice died in her throat.
Through the accordion-ribbed mouth of the jetway, a dense wall of men and women in tailored charcoal suits, dark blue trench coats, and Port Authority police uniforms was marching rapidly down the ramp toward the aircraft door.
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At the head of the group was Marcus Vance, Regional Vice President of Operations, his face as white as fresh paper, sweating through his five-hundred-dollar silk tie.
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