Page 8 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Pilot
Chapter 3
FELICITY
My hands were welded to the controls, my arms aching with strain as the aircraft spun wildly.Blood pounded in my temples like war drums, each beat a countdown to disaster.My world narrowed to the instrument panel’s angry red warnings and the heart-stopping glimpses of jagged, white-topped mountains that flashed past the windshield, close enough that I could count the ancient pine trees clinging to their slopes.The bitter taste of fear filled my mouth as the realization hit me, we’d avoided immediate death against that mountain face by mere inches, but our situation had only spiraled into something far more nightmarish.
“Bryce, drop flaps to fifteen degrees,” I commanded, fighting to keep my voice steady despite the terror clawing up my throat.
“Flaps to fifteen, port sixty percent,” he repeated.Bryce’s hands trembled visibly but his movements remained steady.His training overrode his panic.
The altimeter numbers ticked down with terrifying speed, each digital change a death knell.My stomach lurched as quick mental calculations told me the brutal truth.We were less than two minutes before impact.Maybe ninety seconds.The aircraft shuddered violently around us, metal groaning and popping under stresses it was never designed to handle.The sound reminded me of ice breaking on a frozen lake, that terrible moment before you plunged into deadly waters.
Don’t think about death.Focus.FOCUS.
A momentary break in the swirling snow revealed a narrow valley between two peaks below us.It was a sliver of hope in a white hell.Not ideal, but it might be just enough space for an emergency landing.At the very least, it wasn’t a side of a mountain face that would shatter us on impact.
“Change of plans,” I announced, muscles burning as I adjusted our heading, fighting against controls that felt increasingly sluggish under my grip.“We can’t keep fighting this storm.I’m putting her down in that valley.”
“What?”Roberts, no, Tanner, leaned forward in his seat, the leather creaking as his weight shifted.“What are our chances?”
I didn’t sugarcoat it.The situation was too dire for comforting lies.“Better than staying airborne with failing systems.The hydraulics are nearly gone, we’ve got ice buildup on critical surfaces, and—”
A violent lurch cut me off, the plane dropping like an elevator with snapped cables.My stomach flew into my throat as the starboard engine sputtered, its pitch changing from steady roar to uneven coughing like a dying beast.“—and we’re losing an engine,” I finished grimly, fighting the sideways roll the failing engine triggered.
My fingers instinctively found my airplane pendant, the familiar shape a comfort against my skin.The silver felt unnaturally warm, almost alive.“Not today,” I whispered, the words a prayer and a promise rolled into one.The same words I’d said when that cargo plane’s landing gear failed over the Rockies.The same words I’d uttered when lightning struck my first commercial flight.“Not.Today.”
*Mom needs me.I promised I’d always come back.
“We’re going to die, aren’t we?”Bryce’s voice cracked, his youth showing through his professional veneer.His eyes were wide with primal fear as his pupils dilated to black pools.
“Focus, Bryce,” I snapped, harder than intended but necessary.“Check emergency transmitter status.Make sure it’s set to auto-activate on impact.”
The distraction worked.His training kicked back in, and his hands moved to the appropriate switches like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline.“Transmitter set to auto.Signal strength compromised by storm interference.”
If we survive the crash, will anyone even know where to look?
Another violent jolt sent us sliding sideways through the air.The plane made a deep, metallic grinding sound I’d never heard before in my fifteen years of flying, like a wounded animal’s final cry.Metal shrieked somewhere behind us, followed by a loud bang that reverberated through the fuselage.
“What the hell was that?”Tanner shouted from behind, panic finally breaking through his composure.
I didn’t have time to answer as the hydraulic pressure gauge plummeted to near zero.The controls suddenly became dead weight in my hands, requiring every ounce of my strength to move them even slightly.
“We’ve lost the auxiliary hydraulic system,” I shouted over the cacophony of alarms.“Primary’s failing fast!”
Bryce’s face went ash-white.“We can’t land without hydraulics!”
“We’re going to land regardless,” I shot back, my arms burning with the effort of wrestling the yoke.“It’s just a question of how many pieces we’ll be in afterward.”
The valley floor rushed up at us, a deceptively peaceful blanket of white.Beautiful and potentially deadly.Snow might cushion our landing, or it might hide jagged rocks that would tear us apart on impact like tissue paper.Through breaks in the cloud cover, I could make out what looked like a frozen lake.It was our best chance.
“Tanner,” I called back without taking my eyes off our approach.“Brace position now.Head down, arms crossed, feet flat on the floor.When we stop, if we stop upright, exit through any available opening.Fire is our biggest immediate risk after impact.”
I heard him shifting in his seat, but no verbal response.The smell of fuel was growing stronger.There was a tank breach somewhere.Each breath filled my lungs with the toxic scent, making my head swim.
“Cut port engine now,” I commanded, my voice unnaturally calm despite the thundering of my heart.
Bryce killed the engine with trembling fingers.The asymmetrical thrust pushed against our spin, giving me a fraction more control as we descended.The plane shuddered violently, metal screeching in protest as I forced it into alignment with the valley.
Time slowed.My senses heightened to that familiar state that only came in moments of extreme danger, colors became more vibrant, sounds sharper, and my thoughts crystal clear.Every second stretched like an eternity, as if my brain was cataloguing what might be my final moments.The valley floor dominated my vision now.Trees appeared through the snow, a dense forest of spears waiting to impale us.
