Truth, Lies, and Second Dates - MaryJanice Davidson Page 0,12

the noise they were hearing followed by the immediate summons of a senior flight attendant.

“Maybe he spilled hot coffee…?”

“Maybe,” she replied.

Flight Attendant Evans, a short brunette with a fixed smile, hurried past them and disappeared into the cockpit, reappearing almost immediately and going for their seats like she was laser guided. Ava reached for her seat belt just as she heard the click of G.B. unbuckling his. “We’re up,” he said under his breath.

“Pardon me, Captain Capp, the first officer would like to see you on the flight deck.”

“Of course,” she replied. To G.B.: “Stand by.”

“I’ll be here,” he replied dryly.

When she stepped onto the flight deck she saw at once what had been making those odd thuds: the pilot appeared to have had a full-on stroke at the controls, and the copilot had tried to shift him. He was slumped, semiconscious, and his right arm and leg were limp. When he turned with great effort to look at her, she noted his right eye was drooping and the right side of his mouth was drawn down. She felt a fist clench just above her stomach and begin to squeeze.

“Captain Lewis, may I be of assistance?”

He tried to answer her, couldn’t. The first officer glanced at her, then back at the controls. “Ma’am, I think he’s had a stroke. But the thing is, this happened when we were trying to deal with a hydraulic leak.”

The fist tightened. “I see. And when you say ‘leak’…”

“Major fluid loss. And I—” The first officer looked at the pilot, down at his instruments, up at Ava. He cleared his throat. “I’ve only been doing this for four months.”

The fist tightened … then relaxed. Not knowing had been the worst of it.

“I understand, First Officer Wilson. As the manifest advised, I’m Captain Ava Capp, and I’ve been doing this for six years.” Which in pilot time meant she was a bratty teenager as opposed to a teething toddler, but there was absolutely no point saying that out loud. To the flight attendant: “Please bring Flight Attendant Benjin to the flight deck.” To the pilot: “Sir, I’m relieving you as of”—a glance at her phone, which she’d set to RECORD the moment she stepped on deck—“thirteen hundred hours.” She was reasonably certain he knew exactly what she was doing, but there was no telling how severe the stroke had been, so it was worth elaborating. “We’re going to make you comfortable and get you medical assistance ASAP, and since you decided to goof off, I’ll be helping your first officer land the plane today. I won’t tell you not to worry,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “But we’ve got this.”

And here was G.B., who took in the situation at a glance. “How can I help?”

“The captain is in difficulty. Please assist Flight Attendant Evans in moving him to an empty row, then assist the crew as needed and stand by for further instructions.”

“Right away.”

“I’ll be making an announcement to the passengers shortly; I’ll want you back on deck when you hear it. You know what to do until then. And after then, actually.”

He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” Then: “Ooch over, Evans. I’ll shift him out of there for you.”

Ava was at the controls seconds later, and after a thorough check, turned to her pale but calm first officer. “Everything else looks good, aside from that pesky matter of no hydraulics.”

He blinked and almost smiled. “Yes, ma’am. Aside from that.”

“All right. I’m showing we’re forty-four minutes out from Vegas, but Salt Lake City is closer. Your captain needs an ambulance, so I’m going to advise SLC of our situation and we’ll go from there.”

“Yes, Captain.” He nodded stiffly and she realized just how frightened he was. It would have been horrifying to see his captain go down for the count, even without the hydraulics issue. His eyes were so wide they showed the whites all around, like a crisply uniformed horse about to bolt, and he was sweating. But his ass was in the seat, he was paying attention and following his checklist, and he’d called her within seconds of his captain’s stroke.

She tapped his wrist. “It will be fine,” she said. “I’ll bet you dinner on it.”

He tentatively smiled back. “You’re on.”

She clicked in. “SLC, this is Northeastern Southwest flight 729 bound for Las Vegas, Captain Ava Capp, Northeastern Southwest employee number 293, at the controls. Captain Lewis appears to have had a stroke and First Officer Wilson has requested my assistance. I have had Captain Lewis