Chapter 2 - The Flight Attendant Who Wasn’t Supposed to Be There
At seven in the morning, Evelyn learned she had not been scheduled to work Flight 218.
Her original assignment had been New York to Madrid.
The Rome flight belonged to another attendant named Celia Hart.
Celia called in sick fourteen hours before departure.
Crew scheduling reassigned Evelyn because she was already airport-qualified for the aircraft and had enough legal rest.
Ordinary.
Except it wasn’t.
Airline security officer Lena Ortiz sat across from Evelyn in a hotel conference room with two laptops and a paper cup of terrible coffee.
“Celia didn’t call in sick.”
Evelyn stopped stirring sugar.
“What?”
“Her absence was entered through the employee portal.”
“That requires multifactor authentication.”
“Yes.”
“Did she enter it?”
“She says no.”
Evelyn leaned back.
“So someone removed her from the flight.”
Lena nodded.
“And put me on it?”
“We don’t know whether they chose you specifically. Scheduling’s automated replacement system pulled from availability.”
Marco stood near the door.
Evelyn had told him twice he did not need to be there.
He had responded by asking whether she wanted him outside.
She said yes.
He remained outside for six minutes, then airport police requested his presence because of the fake driver.
Now he stood silently while Lena continued.
“The more concerning part is Celia’s phone.”
“What about it?”
“She reported it stolen yesterday morning.”
Evelyn looked at the timeline.
Before the flight.
Before the false sick entry.
“Where was she?”
“At home in Queens.”
“Does she know Antonio?”
“No.”
“Does she have business-class experience?”
“Yes.”
Marco finally spoke.
“Who was assigned to seat 2A service?”
Lena looked at Evelyn.
“Celia.”
The room became quiet.
Evelyn felt the answer before anyone said it.
Someone had planned for Celia to be on the flight.
Someone removed her.
Or someone used her account to create confusion.
“Why would an attacker remove the person they expected to serve him?” Evelyn asked.
Lena nodded.
“That’s what bothers me.”
Marco’s phone buzzed.
He ignored it.
Evelyn looked at him.
“You can answer.”
“It can wait.”
“No, it can’t. People who say that always end up taking the call after making everyone uncomfortable.”
Lena hid a smile.
Marco checked the screen.
“Hospital.”
He answered.
Antonio was stable.
Lab work had found traces of walnut protein on the remains of his entrée sauce despite a no-tree-nut catering notation attached to his reservation.
Evelyn stared at Lena.
“That meal was prepared through airline catering.”
“Yes.”
Marco added, “Antonio’s allergy is severe.”
“Who knew?”
“His physician. Me. Two family members. The travel office.”
“Which family members?”
Marco’s jaw tightened.
“His younger brother Luca and his cousin Raffaele.”
“Both in New York?”
“Luca is in Rome. Raffaele flew ahead yesterday.”
Evelyn rubbed her forehead.
“This is why normal people use group chats.”
Marco looked offended by the concept.
The hotel room phone rang.
Lena answered.
Her expression changed.
“Send her up with security.”
“Who?” Evelyn asked.
“Celia.”
Ten minutes later, Celia Hart entered looking as if she had not slept either.
She was thirty-two, red-haired, sharp-featured, and angry.
“I did not call in sick.”
“I believe you,” Evelyn said.
Celia looked surprised.
“Thanks.”
Lena asked her to recount the previous day.
Celia had taken the subway home after a reserve shift. Someone bumped into her at a station. She discovered her phone missing twenty minutes later.
“Why didn’t you freeze the employee account immediately?” Lena asked.
“I did. Or I thought I did.”
She had called the airline’s internal help desk.
The person who answered verified her employee number and said the device would be removed.
Lena’s face went still.
“We have no record of that call.”
Celia swore.
Evelyn believed her.
“Did anyone ask about your next trip?”
Celia thought.
“The help desk guy said, ‘You’re on Rome tomorrow, right?’ I said yes because I thought he was confirming identity.”
Marco cursed quietly.
Someone knew the schedule.
Someone wanted Celia’s phone.
But why remove Celia from the flight afterward?
Celia reached into her bag.
“There’s another thing.”
She placed a printed photograph on the table.
Security-camera image.
A man standing outside her apartment building yesterday afternoon.
The same airport-services jacket as the fake driver.
Evelyn stared.
“You know him?”
“No.”
Marco did.
His face changed.
“That’s Paolo Serrano.”
“Who is that?” Lena asked.
“A former Vitelli security contractor.”
“Former?”
“Antonio fired him six months ago.”
“For what?”
Marco looked at Evelyn before answering.
“Selling movement schedules.”
Celia whispered, “So someone stole my phone because of him?”
Marco shook his head.
“Paolo doesn’t design operations. He sells access.”
“To whom?”
“That’s the question.”
Evelyn picked up the photo.
The pieces did not fit.
Paolo steals Celia’s phone. Uses it to enter a sick call. That removes Celia from the flight and replaces her with someone unpredictable.
Why sabotage your own plan?
Unless Celia was never supposed to be the attacker.
Unless she was supposed to take the blame.
Evelyn said it aloud.
“They wanted Celia off the plane.”
Everyone looked at her.
“If the poisoned meal gets served under her cabin assignment and her stolen phone shows suspicious access, investigators look at Celia.”
Lena slowly nodded.
“But Evelyn replaces her and notices Antonio’s symptoms immediately.”
Marco added, “And refuses to let the medication case disappear.”
Celia went pale.
“I was the frame.”
Evelyn felt a cold line travel down her spine.
The fake driver had told her she was not supposed to notice.
Maybe the entire attack depended on a flight attendant doing what passengers expected flight attendants to do.
Smile.
Serve.
Move on.
Evelyn had stopped.
That was the mistake.
Not hers.
Theirs.
Lena’s laptop chimed.
She read the incoming security report.
“Paolo Serrano is refusing to speak.”
Marco shrugged. “He’ll speak.”
Lena looked at him.
“Not your way.”
“I didn’t specify a way.”
“Your face did.”
Evelyn leaned forward.
“What about the catering kitchen?”
Lena hesitated.
“We pulled access logs.”
“And?”
“One temporary contractor badge entered the special-meals station after Antonio’s tray was sealed.”
“Name?”
Lena rotated the screen.
MARTIN VALE.
Evelyn frowned.
Marco did not.
“That isn’t a catering employee.”
“Who is he?”
Marco stared at the screen.
“Raffaele’s driver.”
Antonio’s cousin’s driver.
A family employee.
On the same day Raffaele Vitelli supposedly flew ahead to Rome.
Evelyn looked toward the window.
“Where is Raffaele now?”
Marco answered quietly.
“According to his security team?”
May you like
“Yes.”
“On his way here.”
