Chapter 3 - THE SECRET INSIDE THE TEDDY BEAR
Norah had slept with that teddy bear every night since her mother died.
Brown fur.
One crooked ear.
A faded red ribbon.
I had packed it myself.
Never thought twice.
Now my daughter was telling me something was hidden inside it.
“What do you mean?”
Norah looked frightened.
“Mom told me if we ever went to London, I should give you the bear.”
My heart stopped.
“When did she tell you that?”
“Before the accident.”
I stared at her.
Norah had been five.
Maybe she hadn’t understood.
Maybe she’d forgotten until now.
Or maybe someone had triggered the memory by frightening her.
“Did Mom tell you anything else?”
Norah thought carefully.
“She said London was where the truth lived.”
My stomach tightened.
I looked toward the front cabin.
Jillian was speaking quietly with another flight attendant.
The missing passenger from 2C had still not been found.
I sat beside Norah.
“May I see Teddy?”
She nodded.
I examined the stitching.
Near the left leg, there was a seam different from the rest.
Hand-sewn.
Not factory.
My late wife, Elena, had been terrible at sewing.
I smiled despite everything.
Then I carefully opened the thread.
Inside was a small waterproof pouch.
A memory card.
And a key.
Norah stared.
“Was Mom a spy?”
I almost laughed.
“No, bug.”
But I wasn’t sure what Elena had been.
My wife knew I had a past.
She knew about the Air Force.
She knew some of my business wasn’t clean.
But I had kept the worst of my world away from her.
Or I thought I had.
I slipped the pouch into my pocket.
Then something caught my eye.
A tiny photograph folded behind the memory card.
Elena.
Standing beside a man.
The man wore an Air Force flight jacket.
Gray hair.
Scar beside his mouth.
Elias Ward.
My dead commanding officer.
I stopped breathing.
The photograph had been taken in London.
Four years ago.
Two weeks before Elena died.
Norah looked at me.
“Who’s that?”
I couldn’t answer.
Because suddenly my wife’s “accident” wasn’t an accident anymore.
The aircraft lights flickered.
People gasped.
Then the intercom came alive.
Not the captain.
A man’s voice.
Calm.
Older.
Familiar.
“Warren Hayes.”
Every muscle in my body locked.
I knew that voice.
I had heard it during missions.
In briefing rooms.
Over secure radio.
Nine years earlier.
“Still think I’m dead?”
The cabin went silent.
Norah looked at me.
My mouth went dry.
May you like
Then Elias Ward continued:
“Bring me what Elena hid, or this plane never reaches the ground.”
