Page 77 of Radar

Washington, D.C.

“This is your captain. Ladies and gentlemen, that was extreme. Please stay in your seat. Tighten your belt. If you have sustained an injury, please pull the call sign above your head or have someone do it for you.”

Pings brightened the cabin as people signaled their need for help.

“The situation is over. We received signals indicating that we were in danger of a collision, and I took extreme measures to protect lives. It was difficult for everyone. I want to acknowledge that. Our flight has been given priority to land. We will be met with support.”

There was a buzz of static. The guy was probably giving himself a second to take a breath, gather his next thought, and wipe the sweat from his lips.

“When we land. It will be your inclination to want to leave the cabin or move about, gathering your scattered items. I must insist that you remain seated while we assess and assist the injured. They are the priority. I am in contact with the tower. The instruments and all equipment on the airplane are functioning properly. The sound you are about to hear is our landing gear descending into place. We’re all taking nice deep breaths. My copilot and I are in control. We will be down in a moment.”

The sound of the wheels extending was overly loud.

Xander was desperate to get to Elyssa and make sure she was okay.

And White would say it was wrong of him, and he shouldn’t get enmeshed. But here he was digging himself in a little deeper.

“Radar, find Elyssa. Go find her. Find Elyssa.”

Radar hadn’t needed to be told twice.

The woman on the aisle swung her legs out of the way as Radar squeezed by.

There was a stir from the passengers as the massive unaccompanied German Shepherd trotted toward the front of the plane. But honestly, after all that, what was the airline going to say to him?

Lifting up and leaning out, Xander watched Radar drop to the carpet and crawl under the curtain.

A taller man had been watching, then turned to catch Xander’s eyes. “He’s with a blonde,” he called out.

Xander gave him a grateful thumbs up, then sat back down to tighten his seatbelt.

“Here we are, ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to touch down. It’s all going as it normally does. Ready? Here’s the bump.”

And despite the hand-holding by the pilot, there were still shrieks and gasps that rose, with an understory of soft keening and sobs from the passengers whose nerves had been wound too tight.

Xander bet that a whole new crop of flying phobias had taken root in the last few minutes of the nine-hour flight.

“Rolling to the gate now, everyone,” the pilot used a soothing voice that responders developed to give the impression of control, to keep things calm and to steady nerves. “Almost there. Everyone will stay in their seat. The paramedics will go to those passengers with the lights on first. Everyone will be checked for injuries. If this causes you to miss your connection, service representatives will be available to ensure that you arecared for with the least inconvenience possible. And here we are. We’ve come to a stop. It’s over.”

There were a couple of people who gave a half-hearted applause.

Most people sat in stunned silence.

The old lady beside him reached over and patted his hands. “Do I ever have a story to tell the girls in my knitting circle on Tuesday.” She pulled a phone from her bosom and snapped his picture.

“Yes, ma’am.”

A woman in a blue suit with a photo badge hanging from her lanyard got on the plane and moved down the aisle to his row. “Mr. Belov, you need to get off now. Where’s the K9?”

“Up front in business with Ms. Kalinsky-Landers.”

“Quickly, sir.”

Xander excused himself as he dragged his pack from under the seat in front of him and stepped over the elder.

She patted him on the butt as he passed by. “Thanks for the strong arm, young man.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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