Chapter 1 - The Man in Seat 2A
The man in seat 2A had less than a minute to breathe, and Evelyn Foster was the only person on the airplane who noticed.
At thirty-seven thousand feet above the Atlantic, Flight 218 had settled into the strange artificial night of an eastbound crossing from New York to Rome.
Dinner service was over.
Most window shades were closed. Reading lights glowed above scattered seats. The engines produced a steady vibration beneath the floor, almost hypnotic after several hours in the air.
Evelyn had been working for nearly nine hours.
Her feet hurt inside her navy pumps. A loose strand of blonde hair had escaped the careful twist at the back of her head, and all she wanted was ten quiet minutes in the forward galley with a glass of water.
Instead, she pushed a cart through business class, collecting cups.
That was when she looked at seat 2A again.
Antonio Vitelli had attracted attention from the moment he boarded at Kennedy.
Not because he was loud.
Quite the opposite.
He had entered the aircraft without demanding anything.
Three men accompanied him.
All wore dark suits.
All watched the cabin.
None appeared interested in sleeping.
The tallest of them, later introduced as Marco Bellini, had inspected the overhead compartment before Antonio sat down. Another man had carried a small black medication case and placed it carefully above Antonio’s seat.
Antonio himself looked to be in his late thirties. Dark hair swept away from his face, faint silver at the temples, neatly trimmed beard, broad shoulders beneath an expensive black suit.
Evelyn had spent six years working international flights.
She knew wealth.
She knew celebrities.
She knew politicians, executives, athletes, and people who thought purchasing an expensive ticket meant purchasing the crew along with it.
Antonio behaved like none of them.
He never needed to ask twice.
That was different.
During boarding, a passenger had accidentally stepped into Antonio’s path.
The three suited men had reacted before Antonio did.
One movement from Antonio’s hand stopped them.
“No problem,” he had said.
Two words.
Nothing more.
Yet all three men immediately relaxed.
Evelyn had noticed.
Now she noticed something else.
Twenty minutes earlier, she had brought Antonio coffee.
It remained untouched.
His right hand rested on the armrest, fingers curled tightly into the leather.
There was perspiration along his forehead.
The cabin was cool.
Evelyn stopped the cart.
“Mr. Vitelli?”
Antonio opened his eyes.
For a moment, he seemed annoyed at being disturbed.
Then Evelyn saw that his eyes were not properly focusing.
“Are you feeling all right?”
Antonio tried to answer.
Nothing came out.
His hand moved toward his throat.
Every trace of exhaustion disappeared from Evelyn.
She pushed the cart aside and crouched beside him.
“Sir, look at me.”
Antonio attempted to inhale.
The breath was frighteningly shallow.
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
Again, he tried.
Again, no words came.
Evelyn raised her hand toward the forward galley.
Her colleague, Rachel Kim, saw the signal immediately.
“Medical kit,” Evelyn called. “And notify the captain.”
Marco was already standing.
“What happened?”
“I need you to step back.”
“I’m responsible for him.”
“And right now I’m responsible for this cabin. Give me room.”
Marco stared at her.
Behind him, the other two men rose.
The aisle suddenly seemed much smaller.
Evelyn did not move.
“Sir, step back.”
Something in her voice finally reached him.
Marco moved away.
“Do what she says,” he told the others.
Evelyn checked Antonio’s pulse.
Weak.
His lips were losing color.
She looked toward the forward galley.
“Rachel!”
“Coming.”
Rachel hurried toward them with the emergency equipment.
“Ask if there’s a doctor aboard.”
Within seconds, the announcement went through the cabin.
Passengers lifted their heads.
Reading lights clicked on.
Curtains shifted.
Evelyn fitted the oxygen mask carefully over Antonio’s face.
“Stay with me, Mr. Vitelli.”
His eyelids fluttered.
“Look at me.”
For half a second, his eyes found hers.
Evelyn had expected fear.
Instead, she saw anger.
Not at her.
At himself.
As if his body had betrayed him.
A man hurried down the aisle pulling on his shoes.
“I’m a physician.”
“What specialty?”
“Pediatrics. Daniel Mercer.”
“Good enough tonight.”
The physician crouched beside her.
Evelyn gave him the timeline quickly.
“Difficulty breathing, altered responsiveness, pallor, swelling near the jaw, weak pulse. Symptoms progressing rapidly.”
Dr. Mercer examined Antonio.
“Any known allergies?”
Marco answered.
“Not that I know of.”
“You don’t know?”
“I’m his security chief, not his physician.”
Dr. Mercer looked at Evelyn.
“Emergency medications.”
She opened the kit.
The aircraft shook.
A ripple of turbulence passed through the cabin.
A glass fell somewhere behind them.
Evelyn braced one knee against the seat without taking her hand from Antonio.
Dr. Mercer looked at the swelling.
“Possible severe allergic reaction.”
He requested the appropriate emergency medication.
Evelyn verified the label and dosage with him before handing it over.
Marco watched every movement.
“What are you giving him?”
“Something that may save his life,” Dr. Mercer said.
That ended the questions.
The medication was administered.
Nothing happened.
One second.
Two.
Five.
Antonio’s eyes closed.
Marco stepped forward.
“Antonio.”
Evelyn put a hand up.
“Stay back.”
Ten seconds.
Then Antonio inhaled.
It was deeper than the breaths before it.
Another followed.
Then another.
Evelyn watched color slowly return to his lips.
Dr. Mercer exhaled.
“Good.”
Nobody else seemed to breathe.
The entire section of the cabin had become silent.
Antonio opened his eyes.
This time they focused immediately.
On Evelyn.
The doctor spoke first.
“Don’t talk.”
Antonio ignored him.
He lifted the mask slightly.
“Your name?”
Evelyn blinked.
“Evelyn Foster.”
Antonio stared at her.
Not flirtatiously.
Not suspiciously.
Almost solemnly.
As though committing her face and name to permanent memory.
Dr. Mercer pushed the mask gently back into place.
“I said don’t talk.”
One corner of Marco’s mouth almost moved.
Antonio apparently noticed.
His eyes narrowed.
Marco’s expression became perfectly neutral again.
The captain announced that the aircraft would divert to Shannon.
A few passengers complained quietly.
Then they saw the men around Antonio and stopped.
Evelyn remained beside him.
Several minutes later, Antonio removed the mask just enough to speak again.
“No one forgets the person who gives him back his life.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“The doctor helped you.”
Antonio looked at Dr. Mercer.
“The doctor arrived because you noticed.”
His breathing remained labored, so Evelyn replaced the mask.
“Save your strength.”
Antonio obeyed this time.
Evelyn stood and went forward to update the captain.
When she returned, Marco was staring at the overhead compartment.
“What is it?” she asked.
He looked at her.
“His medication.”
“The black case?”
Marco nodded.
“His physician prepared it before we left New York.”
“Was anything inside related to allergies?”
“I don’t know.”
Evelyn studied him.
“You’re his security chief, but you don’t know his allergies or what medications he carries?”
Marco’s jaw tightened.
“My job is to prevent people from getting close enough to hurt him.”
Evelyn glanced at Antonio.
“That worked well tonight.”
Marco could have taken offense.
Instead, something darker crossed his face.
“That’s exactly what bothers me.”
Evelyn looked toward the case.
“Who had access to it?”
“Antonio. His doctor. Me.”
“And after boarding?”
“No one.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn thought about the busy boarding process.
Passengers placing coats overhead.
Crew moving through the aisle.
One of Antonio’s men briefly leaving his seat.
Marco assisting with a telephone call near the galley.
“You can’t be certain,” she said.
Marco’s eyes hardened.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I saw that case placed overhead. I did not watch it every second afterward. Neither did you.”
The plane began descending.
Seat-belt signs illuminated.
Antonio opened his eyes again.
Marco leaned toward him.
“We’re landing in Shannon.”
Antonio nodded.
Then he looked upward.
At the compartment.
“The case.”
Marco followed his gaze.
“Yes.”
“Hospital.”
Marco nodded.
Antonio’s voice became firmer.
“Unopened.”
Evelyn looked between them.
Marco hesitated.
“Antonio—”
“Unopened.”
“All right.”
Then Antonio said something that made even Marco’s expression change.
“And do not let anyone from my family touch it.”
The cabin seemed to become colder.
Evelyn stared at him.
Marco did not ask what he meant.
That frightened her more than if he had.
The aircraft touched down hard beneath white airport floodlights.
Emergency vehicles surrounded them.
Paramedics boarded.
Evelyn transferred Antonio’s care and provided a complete report.
As the stretcher was prepared, Marco reached toward the overhead compartment.
“Leave it,” Antonio said.
Marco stopped.
Airport police took custody of the black case.
Antonio was moved toward the door.
Just before disappearing, he looked back at Evelyn.
Their eyes met.
Then he was gone.
Evelyn thought the night was over.
She was wrong.
Airport police questioned the crew for nearly an hour.
When Evelyn finally emerged into the terminal, Marco Bellini was waiting beside the glass doors.
“You’re not going to the crew hotel,” he said.
Evelyn stopped.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s been changed.”
“By whom?”
“Me.”
“You don’t arrange accommodations for airline employees.”
“Tonight I do.”
Evelyn’s exhaustion turned into irritation.
“Why?”
Marco looked around before answering.
Then he stepped closer.
“Because someone knew exactly what Antonio would eat, exactly where he would sit, and exactly what medication he would carry.”
Evelyn felt a chill.
“That has nothing to do with me.”
Marco’s expression remained grim.
“You touched the case after he collapsed.”
“So did airport police.”
“And you heard what Antonio said.”
Evelyn stared at him.
Marco lowered his voice.
“Which means whoever wanted him dead now has a reason to wonder what he told you.”
For the first time that night, Evelyn felt afraid.
Then Marco’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face changed.
“What?”
A pause.
“Are you certain?”
He looked directly at Evelyn.
When he ended the call, the color had drained from his face.
“What happened?” Evelyn asked.
Marco took one slow breath.
“The hospital opened the medication case.”
“And?”
“There was something inside that Antonio’s doctor says he never put there.”
Evelyn’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
Marco stared toward the rain-darkened windows.
“A photograph.”
“Of whom?”
Marco turned back to her.
“You.”
And that was when Evelyn understood the emergency aboard Flight 218 had never begun at thirty-seven thousand feet.
May you like
Someone had been waiting for her long before Antonio Vitelli boarded the plane.
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