"Because the system logs everything," I said, locking my eyes entirely onto hers. "You aren't assigned to 1A. In fact, you aren't assigned to first class at all. Your ticket is for seat 22B. A middle seat in the main cabin."
A sharp gasp rippled through the front rows. The teenager’s phone shifted closer, ensuring the audio was capturing every single word.
"That is an absolute lie!" Karen sputtered, her face twisting in sudden, ugly outrage.
"Is it?" I tapped the audit trail icon on my screen. Lines of raw administrative data spilled down the illuminated display. "Because the backend system shows that at seven-ten this morning, you approached the gate counter. You didn't upgrade your ticket. You didn't pay a fee. You didn't use frequent flyer miles."
I turned my gaze back to Sarah. The angry color had suddenly drained from the flight attendant's face, leaving behind a pale, terrified mask as she finally realized exactly what I was looking at.
"The system shows that an airline employee manually overrode the secure manifest," I said softly, letting the crushing weight of the digital evidence drop onto the silent cabin. "Employee ID 44902. Lead Flight Attendant Sarah Mitchell. You didn't just ignore my boarding pass, Sarah. You gave my seat away to your friend before I even walked onto the plane."
CHAPTER 2 CONTINUED
Then, pure self-preservation kicked in.
She lunged forward, her manicured hand snapping out to snatch the device from my grip.
I stepped back, pivoting my shoulder just enough to let her hand grasp empty air. My heel hit the metal track of the drink cart in the galley, but I kept my balance, holding the phone firmly against my chest.
"Do not touch my property," I said, my voice dropping to a register that left absolutely no room for negotiation.
"You are holding stolen corporate data!" Sarah yelled, her voice echoing shrilly off the overhead bins. The forced customer-service velvet was entirely gone. She pointed a trembling finger at my face. "David, get security down here right now! He has breached the airline’s private network! This is a federal cybersecurity offense!"
In seat 1A, Karen Whitmore shifted uncomfortably. Her smug, entitled boredom had finally cracked. She glanced around at the surrounding passengers, realizing that the cameras were no longer just capturing an annoyed rich woman dealing with a nuisance. They were recording a verified digital trail of fraud.
"Sarah, what is he talking about?" Karen demanded, her voice tight. "Tell them to get him off the plane! I am not sitting here while some hacker threatens us!"
David, the gate agent, hadn't moved. He stood trapped in the narrow space between the forward lavatory and the cockpit door, his hand gripping the portable scanner so tightly his knuckles were white. He looked at Sarah, then down at my phone, completely paralyzed by the sudden escalation.
"David," I said, ignoring the two women entirely and locking eyes with the gate agent. "You don't have to take my word for it. You have the airline’s official hardware right in your hand."
"Sir, I..." David stammered, looking toward the open jet bridge as if praying for airport police to miraculously appear and relieve him of this responsibility.