Chapter 36 - Turbulence of Blood

A sharp, metallic crack echoed through the galley as the heavy steel canister struck Reynolds. The rogue marshal staggered sideways, his gun discharging with a deafening *thwip-crack* that sent a nine-millimeter slug tearing through the cockpit doorframe, shattering a glass backup instrument gauge.
Elena moved with lethal precision. Before Reynolds could recover his balance, she drove her heel directly into his knee, hyperextending the joint with an audible snap.
Reynolds howled in agony, collapsing against the galley cart. His pistol clattered across the linoleum floor, sliding into the darkness beneath Seat 1B.
Marcus leaped onto the marshal's shoulders, locking his arms around the traitor's throat in a desperate sleeper hold. Reynolds thrash violently, his heavy fists striking Marcus's ribs, but the purser held on with grim determination, his teeth clenched, veins bulging across his neck.
"Elena! The zip-ties in the emergency medical kit!" Marcus grunted through gritted teeth.
Elena tore open the emergency response locker beneath the jumpseat, pulled out four heavy-duty Kevlar flex-cuffs, and dropped to her knees beside the struggling men. Working with cold, practiced efficiency, she bound Reynolds’s wrists behind his back until the plastic dug deep into his flesh, then secured his ankles and looped a third strap between them.
Reynolds slumped unconscious against the bulkhead, blood trickling from his temple onto his starched white collar.
"Good work, Marcus," Elena breathed, wiping a streak of sweat from her brow.
"Don't thank me yet, Boss," Marcus gasped, clutching his bruised ribs and gesturing toward the window. "Look outside."
Elena turned. The black military transport had pulled closer still. Through its cockpit canopy, two helmeted figures were visible, giving a cold, mechanical signal. Beneath its fuselage, a high-intensity electronic warfare pod began to glow with a sharp, cobalt-blue pulse.
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Inside the Dreamliner, every remaining screen flared white.
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