“Peachy.” She didn’t look back. She worked the yoke, trying to keep the plane level. “We’re out of fuel. No visibility. Gale force winds. Air traffic control isn’t responding.”

The plane rocked again in the force of the wind.

“Oh, and I should also mention: this is by far the largest plane I’ve ever flown. Just saying.”

Desmond took his arm away from Peyton, leaning forward to make eye contact with Avery. “Look, you can do this. We’re not expecting a miracle, okay? Just slow it down and get us on the ground.”

Avery said nothing, only nodded.

“How can we help?”

The sarcasm was absent from Avery’s tone when she replied. “Just strap yourself in tight. Make sure there’re no loose items. And put your helmet and body armor on.”

In the passenger compartment, Desmond helped strap Avery’s body armor onto Peyton. She inhaled sharply when he tightened the strap; her chest was still badly bruised from her escape from the Kentaro Maru.

“Too tight?” he asked.

She gritted her teeth. “It’s fine.”

They put helmets on and buckled themselves into seats along the aisle, away from the plane’s sides. As the wind tossed the aircraft, Peyton stared at the aurora. Streaks of light green crossed the sky in curving forms, as if an artist had painted the black sky with phosphorescent paint.

They were dropping quickly now. The wind picked up with each passing second. Peyton put her hands on the seat in front of her and braced herself.

Outside the windows, the aurora disappeared, replaced by fog.

The tires barked as they caught pavement. The plane shuddered and barreled down the runway, then bounced and shook when it slipped off the pavement. Seconds later, it came to a halt.

Desmond unbuckled himself, sprang up, and opened the cockpit door. Avery was standing. He grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Good flying, A.”

Peyton thought he was going to embrace Avery, but he held her at arm’s length, staring at her.

Avery smiled.

“If anything had been on the runway, we’d be dead,” she said.

“But it wasn’t. You did great.”

Avery looked exhausted. Peyton realized she hadn’t seen the woman sleep since their escape. She looked like she might collapse right then and there.

Instead, she marched into the passenger compartment and stopped in front of Peyton.

“I need my body armor.”

Peyton didn’t like the woman’s brusqueness, but with a nod she stripped the black garment off—a little self-consciously, as if she were on display. Avery donned it, grabbed her rifle and night vision goggles, and turned to Desmond.

“We need to secure the tower and refuel. If we get jammed up here, I want to be ready to bug out.”

When Desmond and Avery were gone, Peyton finally relaxed. The plan called for her to wait in the plane for now—which was fine by her.