The quick wink and smirk again.

Francesca nodded appreciatively. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen. It's been most instructive. I'll let you get back to your work.”

“No bother, ma'am. Any time.”

Francesca was fuming as she took her seat. Fools! Did they think she was an idiot? The curvature of the earth indeed!

“Everything's okay, like I said?” Phillipo asked, looking up from the magazine he was reading.

She leaned across the aisle and spoke in a low, even tone. “No, everything is not okay. I think this plane is off-course.” She told him about the compass reading. “I felt something odd in my sleep. I think it was the shifting of the plane as they changed direction.”

“Maybe you're mistaken.”

“Perhaps. But I don't think so.”

“Did you ask the pilots for an explanation?”

“Yes. They gave me some absurd story saying the shortest distance between two points was not a straight line because of the curvature of the earth.”

He raised an eyebrow, apparently surprised by the explanation, but he still wasn't convinced. “I don't know...”

Francesca pondered some other inconsistencies. “Do you re member what they said when they came on board, about being replacement pilots?”

“Sure. They said the other pilots were called off on another job. They took their place as a favor.”

She shook her head. “Peculiar. Why did they even bring it up? It's as if they wanted to head off any questions I might have. But why?”

“I have had some experience in navigation,” Phillipo said thoughtfully. “I will go see for myself.” He sauntered up to the cockpit again. She heard male laughter, and after a few minutes he came back with a smile on his face. The smile faded as he sat down.

“There's an instrument in the cockpit that shows the original flight plan. We are not following the blue line as we should be. You were right about the compass, too,” he said. “We are not on the correct course.”

“What in God's name is going on, Phillipo?”

A grave expression came onto his face. “There was something your father didn't tell you.”

“I don't understand.”

Phillipo glanced toward the closed cockpit. “He had heard things. Nothing that would persuade him you were in danger, but enough so that he would like the reassurance of knowing I would be nearby if you needed help.”

“Looks like we could both use some help.”

“Sim, senhora. But unfortunately we must do for ourselves.”

“Do you have a gun?” she said abruptly.

“Of course,” he said, faintly amused at the hard-nosed question from this beautiful and cultured woman. “Would you like me to shoot them?”

“I didn't mean-no, of course not,” she said glumly. “Do you have any ideas?”

“A gun is not just for shooting,” he said. “You can use it for intimidation, use its threat to make people do things they don't want to do.”

“Like pointing us in the right direction?”

“I hope, senhora. I will go forward. I will ask them politely to land at the nearest airport, saying it is your wish. If they refuse I will show them my gun and say I would not like to use it.”