Flight 12 to Rome: A Nick Bracco Novella by Gary Ponzo Page A

Bennett said. “Right now or you’ll be next.”
    “It’s not in the cabin,” Nick told the CEO. “It’s in the cockpit.”
    Bennett gave Nick a dubious glare. “That’s a very clever way of getting us to open the door, but it won’t work.” He nodded at Cory to continue his death sentence.
    “No,” Nick said, reaching both of his arms into the air in a defenseless position. “I have the manifest which gives all the medical data for everyone on board. The copilot has a bad case of allergies which requires him to carry an inhaler with him. You were right . . . it is on board. It’s just inside there.” Nick pointed a finger at the cockpit door.
    The concept rang a bell with Bennett and he gestured Cory to lower his weapon. The guy looked like he was told to drop his ice cream cone. The plane sank lower into the Atlantic without any appearance of land surfacing around them. Some of the passengers gasped as the flight appeared on the verge of landing in the ocean.
    Bennett braced himself against the wall behind him with a menacing expression. He zoned in on Nick as if he could determine Nick’s motivations with the mere power of his stare.
    Nick tried to offer Bennett a way out without casualties. Now it was a matter of saving lives. Possibly even his own.
    “You said there would be no one injured if you found the device,” Nick reminded him.
    Bennett braced himself for the landing but said nothing.
    The passengers along the window seats squealed in horror as they descended above the choppy waters without a sign of land before them.
    “I’ll call your bluff,” Bennett finally muttered. “But if you’re wrong, the executions will begin with you.”
    Nick glanced over at Jess, who for the first time seemed to realize her story might never reach an audience above the ocean floor. Her face was pale and her expression bleak.
    At that moment the back wheels finally touched down and everyone lurched forward as the plane hit the tarmac. There was a slender strip of land on both sides of the plane before the ocean spread out to the horizon. An occasional tree interrupted the ocean view, but it almost felt as if they were landing on an aircraft carrier.
    The plane was stopping quicker than a normal landing, consistent with a short runway. So far everything Bennett said seemed true. They were on a tiny piece of land in the middle of nowhere.
    When the plane finally stopped, Bennett stood tall and pulled his cuffs down from beneath his suit jacket. He glared at Nick while one of his minions twisted the door latch and opened the door.
    Immediately a ladder clicked against the side of the plane and Bennett gave a signal to someone outside. Nick couldn’t see the entourage from his seat, but he was betting they were armed and ready for action. Five million dollars would do that to a person.
    The plane remained idling and there was no indication the cockpit door would be opening. There were audible sobs coming from the rear of the plane. Nick’s pulse throbbed in his temple as he waited for the next move.
    Bennett motioned for his team to bring the injured terrorist to the front and the guy hobbled on one leg while using the headrests as crutches. When he reached the ladder, Bennett personally helped the guy lumber down the top of the steps. He turned to see Jess back to scribbling notes and gave a satisfied smile, as if his effort would be documented for the world to see.
    Bennett motioned Lisa to the front and she strutted down the aisle with a purpose. He nodded to the cockpit door and Lisa tapped a sequence of taps onto the door. Then she pressed a series of numbers into the keypad. A moment later, the door opened, and finally Nick could see Paul Greko. He was a fit-looking gentleman with graying sideburns and bushy eyebrows. He looked like an airline pilot.
    As Greko exited with his carry bag, Lisa slid past him into the cockpit. Bennett gestured for him to step onto the ladder, then stopped him.
    “Can I see