"It means we're flying the wrong way. Bahrain is on the coast. Let me go talk to the pilot." He put his tablet on the seat next to him and rose. Her eyes followed his broad shoulders as he strode purposefully down the short aisle toward the cockpit.
She hadn't wanted to come here, but oil billionaires made good architecture clients, at least if you were ambitious and wanted to create something bold and powerful, not just another craftsman-style house on a suburban hill. Earlier today, she'd met with a brokerage owner in Dubai who wanted a landmark headquarters. Now she was on her way to attend the wedding of a man she'd met once, who wanted her to design a coastal retreat for him and his new bride in Bahrain. More money than God, apparently, so worth her time and effort.
Zadir struggled with the handle on the cockpit door. "It won't open." He banged with his fist.
Panic surged through her, and she rose to her feet. "Maybe he's dead? Or unconscious?" They weren't all that high above the dunes.
"Sit down and buckle in." Grim determination had replaced Zadir's flirtatious expression. He pulled his billfold out of his back pocket, used a credit card to trip the lock, then burst in. Within seconds he yelled out. "The pilot's gone. Get up here." The shock of his brusque order stung for a split second before his words sank in.
The pilot's gone.
Heart pounding, she fumbled with her seat belt, then sprang to her feet. Where could he go? She hurried down the aisle and pushed into the bright cockpit, with its intimidating array of dials and levers.
"A window is missing. It's not broken, either. The frame's been unscrewed. It must have been deliberately removed." Zadir was scanning the equipment, peering at the lettering on the controls. She glanced about and saw one of the side windows completely gone.
"How come we're not being sucked out?"
"Low altitude. He wasn't sucked out either. He must have jumped some time after takeoff."
It was hard to believe. She searched the tiny cockpit for signs that he was there, hiding, waiting to spring out at them, but it was too small for even a cockroach to hide. The missing window scared her. She could feel a breeze and didn't want to go any closer. "Do you know how to steer it back?"
Zadir didn't turn from the dashboard. "We won't make it back. Or anywhere else, either. We're out of fuel." He pointed to the gauge, which was below the E for empty. "Right now we're gliding."
She gulped. "What do we do?"