Chapter 7 - Inside the Obsidian King
The transition from the freezing, punishing rain of the Teterboro tarmac to the interior of the Bombardier Global 7500 was like stepping into another dimension. The cabin was a masterclass in modern luxury, smelling faintly of rich chestnut leather, expensive teak wood, and high-end ambient cedar. Soft, warm LED lighting glowed from recessed ceiling panels, illuminating a spacious lounge area equipped with cream-colored leather divans, polished mahogany tables, and a fully stocked bar featuring crystal decanters of rare scotch and vintage champagne.
Allara stood in the entryway for a moment, letting out a long, shuddering breath as the reality of the past ten minutes settled over her. Her oversized sweatshirt was damp, and her mud-splashed sneakers felt heavy on the plush, custom-woven wool carpet. But she didn't care. She walked down the aisle toward the private aft suite, tossing her battered leather backpack onto a velvet-upholstered divan.
Before she could even reach for the intercom to check on the backup flight crew that Marcus Vance was undoubtedly scrambling to dispatch from a nearby hangar, her phone buzzed violently in her hand. It was Marcus calling back.
Allara swiped the screen and brought the phone to her ear.
"Dr. Banks," Marcus’s voice came through immediately, dripping with a mixture of profound apology and administrative urgency. "I am so deeply, unimaginably sorry for that disgraceful display. I have already contacted the Teterboro operations manager. Replacement crew—Captain Miller and First Officer Davis—are currently driving out from Hangar B. They will be at your aircraft within six minutes."
"Thank you, Marcus," Allara said, her voice softening slightly now that she was out of the elements. "Make sure Ryan and Terra's credentials are flagged across our entire network. I don't ever want to see either of them servicing any asset associated with my name."
"It's already done, ma'am," Marcus confirmed firmly. "Their licenses have been flagged for immediate administrative review, and their termination paperwork is being processed with gross misconduct as the primary cause. They won't fly a kite, let alone a turbine engine, in the tri-state area again."
"Good. Have the new crew pre-file our flight plan for Paris immediately upon arrival. I want wheels up as soon as they complete their pre-flight checks."
"Understood, Dr. Banks. Enjoy your flight, and congratulations again on the Alzheimer's patent breakthrough. The medical board released the preliminary brief an hour ago; it's going to change everything."
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"Thanks, Marcus. Let's talk business when I land in France."
Allara hung up the phone and walked over to the galley. She reached into the refrigerated drawer, pulled out a chilled bottle of Krug champagne, and popped the cork with a satisfying hiss. She poured herself a glass, took a long, refreshing sip, and sank into the leather seat just as the muffled sound of footsteps echoed on the exterior air stairs.
