Flight 219
The cabin seemed to let out one collective sigh of relief when the captain announced their landing in Detroit. After a short scuffle following his g*n malfunction, Bradley was subdued, bound with zip cords, stashed away somewhere in the back of the plane.
Meredith was safe.
She was going home.
Justine still gripped her son.
“You should probably make sure he’s buckled in,” Meredith told her gently.
Justine nodded, wiping tears from her eyes before tightening West’s safety belt. “I just can’t believe it,” she breathed. “Just can’t believe it.”
“Mommy?” West’s voice was squeaky.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“That was a bad guy, right?”
Justine let out her breath in what sounded like a half-laugh, half-sob. “Yeah. He was a very bad man.”
“Will the police rest him?” he asked.
Justine
