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Miranda sat in the back of the van with Holly as they drove down the empty stretch of the field.
They’d parked their jets and the Mooney by one of the hangars near the main base that ran from midfield, then north along the west side of the runway. Even as they were driving away, the aircraft were being rolled out of sight into a big hangar despite the descending darkness.
The van was currently driving their group over a mile to a lone hangar at the far south end of the field.
“Here,” Holly pulled out her tablet and began whispering to her quickly. “Here’s the data they loaded onto the CVDR.”
“They tampered with—” Miranda couldn’t even speak. Nobody tampered with black boxes. That defeated the whole purpose of gathering the information in the first place. The displayed profile was t
