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You’re free to go. But if you create another disturbance on airport property—I will arrest you and put you in jail. Do you understand me?”
    “Yes.”
    “I want to check this out at our end,” Tucker said. “Can you help me get her through Security? I think she needs to tell her story to someone besides myself. Just to be on the safe side.”
    “Makes sense. Follow me,” the cop said.
    Lauren followed Tucker and the cop as they made a beeline toward a security checkpoint. They went directly to the front of the line where a short conversation between Tucker, the cop and the TSA took place. Once cleared, she and Tucker breezed through the metal detector.
    “I just want to say—” Lauren said to Tucker, as they walked away from Security.
    Tucker cut her off mid-sentence. “If you turn out to be some crazy woman, I’ll see to it you’re right back in the hands of the cops—I doubt they’ll be so accommodating the second time around. I don’t want to hear another word from you until we get to Operations.”
     

 
    CHAPTER THREE
     
     
    Like a giant 500 mph scythe, the wing of the military plane cut through the thin skin of the 737 just above the cockpit. Aluminum ribs and stringers snapped as the wing dug further aft. Debris was ripped out into the frigid atmosphere, rupturing the Boeing’s fuselage. Instantly, the aircraft depressurized. A cloud of water vapor filled the cabin as the air condensed in the explosive decompression. In a fraction of a second, luggage, purses, blankets and magazines were sucked out of the forward section of the airplane. Large metal pieces from both aircraft gave way, tumbling back and tearing violently into the 737’s tail.
    The airliner reeled under the impact from the tanker. Donovan kept his grip on Audrey as they were both thrown into the seats in front of them. Donovan twisted sideways as the airplane lurched beneath him.
    Razor-sharp pieces of aluminum shot through 880’s passenger cabin. Plastic overhead compartments exploded, then splintered into a maelstrom of deadly airborne daggers. Glass from the shattered fluorescent lights flew into terrified eyes.
    The carnage was far worse in the front of the plane. Those passengers seated in the forward section bore the brunt of the flying debris—their momentary screams absorbed by the roar of the slipstream pouring into the cabin.
    Donovan tried to protect both himself and Audrey from the shower of fragments. The sting of objects peppered the exposed skin on his hands, while the pull of a powerful suction lifted Audrey off the seat. Donovan was sucked forward, his full weight pressed against his seatbelt. He braced himself with his feet as wrapped his arms around Audrey, keeping her in place. The roar penetrated to his bones, the freezing cold air shocked Donovan’s lungs as he fought to breathe. He winced at the pain in his ears, he had to swallow hard, twice, to eliminate the pressure and relieve the agony.
    Donovan raised his head and risked opening his eyes. He watched helplessly as rows of people in the forward cabin, still strapped in their seats, were sucked out of the gaping hole that had been ripped in the roof. With slow-motion clarity, he could see flailing bodies pummeled and slashed by the jagged metal before disappearing from sight.
    As quickly as it appeared, the suction from the decompression vanished. Donovan knew the pressure differential had equalized and the threat of being sucked out of the plane had passed. He pulled himself up. Fighting the horror he had witnessed and his own rising fear, he looked into Audrey’s frightened and confused face. At least she was still alive.
    “The masks!” he yelled above the rush of air. They were dangling from the overhead compartment just above them. He hoped she understood they needed oxygen. It was now freezing cold, and his mind became cloudy and uncertain. A vague notion crossed his mind—their efforts were probably ridiculous and short-lived. They would be