“He heard something.”
The CEO frowned.
“Heard what?”
“A pulsing vibration during pump cycling.”
The Single Dad finally spoke.
“Three beats.”
The CEO turned.
“What?”
“Every fourteen seconds.”
He rubbed his eyes.
“It wasn’t loud.”
“Barely audible.”
“But it didn’t belong there.”
The CEO looked toward the open nose panel.
The Single Dad continued.
“Pressure was stable on the digital monitor.”
“Visual inspection showed nothing.”
“So I ran the sequence again.”
“And again.”
“And eventually?”
The Chief Engineer answered.
“We found microscopic deformation on a fuel-feed coupling.”
The CEO’s face remained unreadable.
“Microscopic.”
“Yes.”
“That sounds repairable.”
“It was.”
“Then why did you call it catastrophic?”
The Chief Engineer drew another breath.
“Because the deformation wasn’t the real problem.”
He pulled out a photograph.
A metal fitting.
Perfectly ordinary to her.
A red circle marked one section.
The engineer pointed.
“Internal fracture.”
“Not visible externally.”
“Under normal ground pressure, the fitting held.”
“At altitude, with thermal contraction and sustained pump load…”
He stopped.
The CEO finished the thought herself.
“It could fail.”
The Chief Engineer nodded.
“Yes.”
“What happens if it does?”
Nobody answered immediately.
The CEO looked at the Single Dad.
“What happens?”
The Single Dad’s voice was quiet.
“Depends on where you are.”
“Cruise?”
“Fuel imbalance first.”
“Then pressure drop.”
“Possible engine shutdown on one side.”
“If the leak sprays into the wrong compartment…”
He stopped.
The CEO stared.
“What?”
“Fire becomes possible.”
The hangar suddenly felt much colder.
The CEO looked up at the silver aircraft.
Its polished body reflected the overhead lights beautifully.
A machine designed to represent control.
Precision.
Security.
She pictured it at forty thousand feet.
Her conference team onboard.
Her assistant.
Pilots.
Cabin crew.
Herself.
The Chief Engineer continued.
“We removed the line at three sixteen.”
“The fracture became visible after disassembly.”
“We replaced the coupling.”
“Pressure tested the system.”
“Then he insisted on tracing the reason it failed.”
The CEO looked toward the Single Dad.
“You insisted?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because fittings don’t crack for entertainment.”
The answer was blunt enough to almost offend her.
Almost.
“What did you find?”
The Single Dad pointed toward the work cart.
A small metal component sat inside a clear evidence bag.
“Bad mounting tolerance.”
The CEO looked at it.