Cash Airlines' headquarters was located in a tall, newly-built skyscraper in downtown Los Angeles. It occupied the top thirty floors of the building, and held the naming rights to the entire property for at least fifty years. Most of Cash Airlines' administrative functions were handled from this building, and there was dedicated office space in the building for monitoring all of the aircraft in its fleet for status reports and possible malfunctions. The topmost floor was reserved for high-level officials and their respective staffs, and there was a single expansive office specially reserved for the chief executive officer of the airline. The office itself was divided into an anteroom, a conference room, a workplace for the CEO, and a private restroom. There was enough room in the anteroom for three secretaries.

Cory Baxter walked into the lobby of the Cash Airlines Building, and strode purposefully towards the elevator. He greeted the girl manning the elevator, and then he waited as more people got into the elevator after him. By the seventieth floor, Cory was the only one left besides the elevator girl, and he nodded his head to her as he got off. As he entered the CEO's office, one of the secretaries stood up and told him, "Mr. Brabant is waiting for you in the conference room."

"Already?" Cory asked in reply jokingly, but it seemed like his little joke went over the secretary's head.

"Yes, Mr. Baxter," she replied. "Mr. Okazaki and Mr. Godunov are already in the conference room with Mr. Brabant."

"All right," Cory said, going into the conference room.

The conference room of the Cash Airlines CEO was a large and modern affair dominated by the liberal usage of glass on almost every available surface. A large glass table sat on top of a massive obsidian slab. Two walls made of tempered glass—the same stuff that was used to make car windshields—gave a breath-taking panorama of the Los Angeles skyline. Two rows of ten chairs with foam-padded glass backs flanked the two long sides of the table. At the head of the table was one of the few items in the office that wasn't made—fully or mostly—of glass; the high-backed leather chair of the CEO himself.

There were only three people in the room besides Cory Baxter. Two of them were the other legal representatives within the airline. James Okazaki represented the stewards' union, while Boris "Barry" Godunov was responsible for the mechanics' union. Cory often referred to them as Sulu and Chekov, mostly because they looked like the Star Trek characters. The ones from the JJ Abrams film, not the original series. Meanwhile, the third man, who was standing before the full-length windows staring at the LA skyline, was someone that Cory knew really well.

He was Theodosius Brabant, known to the public, the media, and his close friends as "Theo." He was the CEO of Cash Airlines, and he was a tall, swarthy, and stocky Englishman with the distinguished bearing of a nobleman. Brabant had been close friends with Buford Dobson, late father of current Cash Airlines owner Cabot Dobson, since their days in Cambridge. When Dobson's venture into the air travel industry had become a profitable enterprise, he had hired Brabant as CEO, leaving Buford free to focus on his family and growing his fortune even more. When he died just a few years ago, he left the entire company to his son Cabot, up to and including the controlling stake of Cash Airlines. While this gave Cabot virtual power of veto over the airline's shareholders and board of directors, he rarely participated in board meetings, if at all. It seemed that he had delegated the job of actually running the airline to Theo Brabant, his tutor and mentor, so he could pursue the life of a rich and eccentric recluse.

Brabant didn't look like he had noticed Cory coming into the room, but when he spoke, he addressed the new arrival. "How's Captain Stewart doing, Cornelius?" he asked.

"She's finally woken up from her coma, Mr. Brabant," Cory replied. "I don't think she's in any mood to talk to anyone soon, though."

Brabant waved it off, muttering, "It's all right." He continued to stare at the skyline for a few more moments before finally speaking up. "For more than thirty years, Cash Airlines has operated smoothly and flawlessly," he said. "Now we've finally had a fatal accident. And it's just about a year or so after that thing in San Francisco. We are already under a lot of scrutiny for the two weeks since the crash, and we should all expect that this will only escalate. NTSB's going to leave no stone unturned for their investigation into the crash of Flight 4892. They're going to root out every possible cause of the crash until they find out what really happened."

Brabant then turned around to face the others. He bore a striking resemblance to the actor Hugh Grant, who was probably just a year or two his senior. "Gentlemen," he continued, "what I am about to tell you must not get out of this office. I have a friend who has a friend who has a friend who is deep within the NTSB investigation. And I've heard from this source of mine that they've already managed to narrow it down to two causes by now: pilot error, or air traffic controller error. My contact has also told me that the investigation is already close to downloading the conversations between the pilots and the ATCs, and there are even rumors that there might have been some confusion in the tower because of the numerous flights, and therefore Flight 4892 was not given the landing priority that they had requested due to certain concerns with their fuel."

Brabant then sat down on the high-backed leather chair at the head of the table. "There is a problem from our end, though," he said. "The hospital has just released the results of the blood tests that they've conducted on the members of the crew of Flight 4892. It reveals that two of our employees have had vastly elevated levels of alcohol in their bloodstream, and they've even detected traces of marijuana and cocaine in these employees. Okazaki, the files."

Okazaki, the stewards' union legal representative, took out a large stack of folders from his briefcase and handed them over to Brabant. Cory managed to make out the names on the folders. STEWART; RUSSO; MUNROE; OLIVER; WEASLEY; SIKOWITZ; OSWALD; WEASLEY; CHASE; HARMER; BUNDY; MARONEY. Cory recognized them as the names of the crew of Flight 4892.

Brabant took two of the folders and then held them aloft. "These two people are the ones with the alcohol and drugs in their bloodstreams," he said as he opened the two folders. "They are Senior Air Steward Beck Oliver and Captain Miley Ray Stewart. Now, I could hardly care less about some drunken and drugged steward, but we also have a drunk and drugged pilot on our hands. The airport lawyers are going to have a field day when they find out about this, because this will give them the reason they need to pass the blame to us and instead of their own ATCs. We cannot allow that to happen." Brabant slammed down the folders onto the table, almost in disgust.

"I will not let our airline take the blame for something that may not actually be our fault," he continued. "We need to make sure that the NTSB finds out that the airport is to blame, and not us."

"I know a way."

Eyes turned towards the source of the voice that had just spoken. It was a man who had just entered the conference room, and was standing off to the back, not really involved with the discussion but near enough to hear what they were talking about. "I know a way to make any kind of evidence inadmissible in a court of law," he repeated.

"And who might you be?" Brabant asked him.

"Mr. Brabant," Cory said, walking over to the new arrival, "may I introduce Thomas Bagration, one of the best young criminal defense attorneys in southern California." Cory walked Bagration over to Brabant, and the two men shook hands.

"I've heard your name before, I think," Brabant said. "You were the defense for the killers in the Ganton shootings, yeah?"

"Guilty as charged, Mr. Brabant," Bagration replied.

"So, you know a way to get Captain Stewart's bloodwork dismissed in court?" Brabant asked.

"Sir, blood work is a piece of cake to get junked in court," Bagration replied confidently. "I can even do it in my sleep. The blood was drawn from the patient without her permission. Improper storage of the blood led to fermentation of latent alcohol in the sample. Need I say more?"

Brabant shook his head. "No need, no need," he said. "You can take a seat, if you like, Mister…"

"Bagration."

"Of course." Brabant walked back to the head of the table and said, "We are now in the spotlight of today's news, gentlemen. And it looks like we will be staying there for days to come. We are on every network there is—NBC, CBS, ABC, CNN, BBC, and all the other three-letter acronyms out there. But, gentlemen, our main concern is to keep our airline as blemish-free as possible throughout this investigation. Remember, we are not at fault for this crash. But we have to make sure that the NTSB, the government, and the public, knows that."

A/N: As always, leave behind your thoughts and comments. Tell me if you think it's good or bad! Any reviews are appreciated!