“I was in the hold with Adam Carlton when we hit the turbulence.”
“Where is he?”
“He hit his head. He’s badly injured.”
“How did you get in here?”
“The access code. It was on a piece of paper.”
He got up from his seat. “Show me.”
He kept the gun on her the whole time as she showed him where it was in the galley. He yanked the paper off the door, crumpled it up, and shoved it into his pocket.
He motioned with his pistol for her to return to the cockpit. After shutting the door behind him, he got back into his chair and told her to sit in the jump seat.
“Belt yourself in,” he said while glancing at his watch.
Lyla let out a sob of relief. He wasn’t going to kill her. She snapped the seat belt together.
“Now put on the mask.” He pointed to the one hanging next to her.
The thought of all the unconscious passengers flashed in her mind. “Why?”
He held up the pistol and pointed it at her head.
“Do it.”
She had no choice. The dead pilot was evidence that he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
She fit the mask over her face but tried to keep it as loose as possible.
The copilot looked at his watch again and then at her. “No. Tighter.”
Reluctantly, she pulled the straps taut. Within seconds, she started to feel herself get light-headed. There had to be some kind of knockout gas in the emergency oxygen system.
“Why are you doing this?” she shouted through the mask, but the copilot ignored her.
He looked to his right, then shielded his eyes with one hand. A moment later, a blinding flash lit up the cockpit.
Immediately after that, the copilot pushed his control joystick forward. The huge airplane nosed into a steep dive.
Lyla tried to unbuckle herself so she could stop the maniac from killing them all, but her muscles were like jelly. She couldn’t feel her fingers, and her mind was a muddled haze. She had the sudden hope that this was all just a nightmare, that none of it was truly happening.
Then she looked through the front windows as they emerged from a cloud bank. No sky was visible. Only ocean.
They were going down, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Then, mercifully, she tumbled into darkness.
TWO
NAPLES, ITALY
The present day
Although the main workforce had gone home after sunset, the vast shipbuilding yards of Moretti Navi were still brightly lit. Asad Torkan crouched beside the outer fence in the most remote part of the facility. His reconnaissance during the previous two nights confirmed that there were no cameras observing the perimeter. The few roaming guards kept to a predictable pattern, making it easy for him to time his infiltration.
He threw his duffel bag over his shoulder and easily scaled the fence, protecting himself from the razor wire with a heavy leather welding blanket. When he was over, he took down the blanket and stowed it under one of the stacks of containers along with the black coveralls he’d just taken off. Underneath, he was wearing the uniform of a Moretti Navi construction foreman. He put on a hard hat, hoisted the duffel, and walked toward the docks as if he were heading in for his shift.
When Torkan passed a couple of longshoremen who gave him little more than a brief glance, he knew he’d have no trouble reaching his objective. He’d been trained by Iran’s Ministry of Intelligence and Security as a saboteur, carrying out successful operations in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and Pakistan, always escaping undetected.