Chapter 4 - The Engines Die
The aircraft taxied down the long concrete runway, the roar of the twin jet engines building to a deafening crescendo as the pilot lined the massive machine up for takeoff. Passengers leaned back against their headrests, bracing for the powerful surge of acceleration that would lift them into the clouds.
In seat 2A, the silver-haired man folded his newspaper neatly, placing it on the empty seat beside him. He adjusted his expensive silk tie, straightened his cuffs, and looked out the window with an expression of supreme self-satisfaction, completely unaware of the drama unfolding behind the scenes.
Suddenly, the roaring thunder of the engines began to change pitch.
The high-pitched whine of the turbines wound down, dropping from a deafening roar to a sputtering hum, and then—silence. The heavy vibration beneath the floorboards died away completely. The aircraft, which had been seconds away from hurtling down the runway, rolled to a sudden, unexpected stop on the tarmac.
Across the first-class cabin, confused whispers erupted among the passengers. People looked at one another with furrowed brows, murmuring anxiously as the overhead lighting flickered once and stabilized.
"What's going on?" a businessman in row three muttered, peering out his window. "Why are we stopping?"
The silver-haired man in row two frowned, picking up his newspaper again in mild irritation. He pressed the call button on his armrest, but before a flight attendant could respond, the captain’s voice crackled loudly over the intercom system.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking," the voice announced, sounding remarkably tense. "Due to an unexpected ownership and operational directive transmitted directly from corporate headquarters, this aircraft has been ordered to return to the gate and remain grounded indefinitely until further notice. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened. We apologize for the inconvenience."
A chorus of collective groans and loud protests filled the cabin.
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"Grounded indefinitely?" a woman exclaimed two rows back. "Are you kidding me? I have a connecting flight!"
The silver-haired man slowly lowered his newspaper. The smug confidence that had defined his posture minutes earlier vanished entirely, replaced by a sharp, suspicious frown. He stood up slightly from his seat, craning his neck toward the front of the cabin to see what was happening.
