Chapter 129 Seoul
The response to my query was a sudden drop of the aircraft. It pitched nose-down, tilting all our bodies forward with it as the altimeter needle raced downward.
At this angle, I could hear the sound of silverware and serving trays and tumblers scattering in first class. The checklist in the cockpit fluttered into the air and Uriel’s pen hit the ceiling and fell back down.
Through it all, I maintained my grip on the yoke till I raised the nose just enough to arrest descent without stressing the frame.
The prayers were louder now, going up from my passengers' lips to their dozen gods who probably did not give a hoot about this war between Aionis and me. Because at this very moment, he struck the aircraft with a force of air from below and a deep shiver ran through the structure.
The plane rolled left.
“Maintain,” I said calmly to Uriel, even though it was more a command to myself to rein in my rage.
With him monitoring the attitude indication and airspeed tape, I rolled the yoke slightly right, pushing the right rudder down.
“Correcting right,” Uriel observed, “Wings coming level…. Wings level.”
The nose of the aircraft straightened again, and the wings leveled out.
Hold. Hold for me, little wife.
Her heat was spiking again, and I couldn't even be mad at her. It was difficult enough for me to maintain control and not answer the idiot with roaring flames of my own.
“Eight hundred down,” Uriel read out quietly. I shot a quick glance in his direction to find his eyes on the VSI. “One thousand now,” he added.
I faced forward with a frown. We were moving too fast.
All this happened in the space of a minute that felt like one year. My thumb worked the trim switch in a continuous tap, as I pulled back the thrust levers slightly.
Finally, the voice came in, “Silver Summit 281, say ride conditions.”
“Moderate to occasional severe.”
“Siver Summit 281, descend and maintain flight level three eight zero.”
I swallowed. “Descending to flight level three eight zero, Silver Summit 281.”
I lowered the nose slightly then, easing the plane into a steady descent.
“Leaving four zero zero, passing three nine zero,” Uriel confirmed, and I gave him a nod in acknowledgment.
“Passing three eight zero.” He said now, and my gaze flicked to the VSI and watched the vertical speed shoot to one thousand down. “Flight level three eight zero.” Uriel confirmed.
The cold presence disappeared just then, and I took my first real breath. Uriel and I exchanged looks as I began to relax my grip around the yoke.
He did not understand all that had just happened, a turbulence without obvious cause. He was completely human. This was probably one story he would retell to anyone who cared to listen.
The passengers were murmuring now, and letting out sighs of relief.
Don’t cry, sweet wife. You did so good. You did so good.
After landing, I stared out the window longingly as she walked towards the boarding gate with her friends and colleagues.
I ached to be with her right now.
She glanced back at the aircraft then. At least she still had my jacket on.
LYS
Seoul was a riot. Whatever that airborne attack we had just experienced was, it seemed to have rippled across the nearest airroutes.
There was a growing crowd at the airport as several airplanes were diverted and forced to land in an emergency. And while my passport was being cleared in a private lounge, I learned from the concierge that all flights have been canceled for the next forty-eight hours.
It was the week before Christmas and Tamar informed me at the backseat of the limousine that this situation would make bookings worse as hotels were already at capacity.
But she assured me that there was nothing to worry about, as every detail of my accommodation had been finalized weeks ago, and then she had the chauffeur stop at another hotel she and the others were staying at, two blocks away from mine.
Kathy continued on the ride to mine with me.
“Will she be OK?” I turned to her assistant, worried at how sick Tamar looked just now.
“It's the flight.” Kathy returned with a smile, but her eyes looked somewhat shifty.
Snow flurried down as a valet pulled the door open.
“Thank you.” I returned his bow while Kathy stepped out of the car behind me, while a bell boy handled our suitcase. I looked up then and stiffened when I saw Mordaine walking past us to the entrance.
He was at this hotel? Silver Summit was rich-rich if they lodged their crew at hotels like these. He moved through the revolving doors with a flight attendant who would not stop talking. The same woman with the pink lipstick.
“Lys, are you OK?”
“Sure.” I glanced at Kathy with an easy smile and then led the way towards the hotel lobby. We gasped simultaneously when we walked through the door.
Sky-high ceilings with a golden chandelier the size of an elephant, a fountain right in the middle of the lobby with cream-colored marble floors that shone like glass and the highest-quality furniture tastefully dotting the place, but still a crowd was loitering like it was another Saturday at a Miami mall.
“Moon above.” Kathy muttered beside me, and it was obvious why. These were wealthy people who had to wait around now because no hotel would take them. And no hotel would take them because, for once, demand had trumped supply thanks to the turbulence.
There was even a queue at the front desk.
But efficient Kathy was already on the move, leading the way for us to get in line for checking. Mordaine was not here, and I was not surprised. I could not imagine him waiting in line for anything.
“It would have been easier if Tamar booked me in with the rest of you.” I stared at the half a dozen receptionists lining the desk, attending to the queue.
“Mr Miller would not hear of it.” she responded.
“There was nothing wrong with that hotel, I saw it from a distance just now.” And lowering my voice, I added. “And I am certain they do not have to queue up there.”
Kathy chuckled and held her phone out to me. “There's a queue here, a higher-end hotel. Be practical, Lys. Lucy texted me on our way here that they had to reassign the rooms because some of us lost ours to heavy pockets. We have up to four people sharing a room currently.”
I was staring into her screen, at the image Kathy must have taken in the lobby. Caroline was leaning against Kade, and my other colleagues stood around with a look of exhaustion.
After such a long flight, this was criminal.
“Don’t look,” Kathy said suddenly, and I tensed. I became immediately aware of a distinct pair of heels, clicking against the marble.
They walked past me towards the front desk and I saw it was Celeste. I had seen her just once at the airport earlier. In the queue, guests began to murmur because Celeste was cutting the line, walking right up to the front of the desk.
But a receptionist flashed a bright smile and slid a keycard across the desk to her. Celeste turned for the elevator, bell boy at her heels.
“What is going on?” Kathy frowned.
I shrugged, just as confused. How did Celeste manage to be a big deal all the way in another continent?
Finally, we reached the desk. The receptionist smiled, took my name and turned to her screen. “You see requested an upgrade,” she said.
“I did not…” I was saying when Kathy touched me lightly. “It may have been this sponsor of yours.”
“Oh.” My cheeks flushed. The receptionist spent another second staring at the screen, fingers flying at the keyboard as a frown crossed her face.
She looked up, flashed me a quick smile and then turned to her nearest colleague. She cupped her lips and started to whisper.
Kathy and I exchanged confused glances. Something was wrong.