12 Years Ago - New York City - Coffee Shop

There was another time in my life when I experienced a fainting spell. It happened when I was about three months pregnant with Arthur. Back in my early 20s, on a warm summer afternoon, I was standing with my husband, Gordon, on his private airstrip. We were deep in conversation, discussing plans for the nursery and considering different schools for our future son. And then, out of nowhere, everything just went black.

"You aren't going to tell me what else happened?" Douglas's tone shifted, his concern palpable. He could sense Carolyn's discomfort in delving into such a personal topic, and he patiently waited for her to continue.

There was a pause as Carolyn carefully chose her words, opting to sidestep revealing the full conclusion of her story. "For now, I think I've said all I'm comfortable sharing." Carolyn responded, a note of weariness lacing her voice.

Douglas furrowed his brow slightly, his concern for Carolyn evident in his eyes. "I understand, Carolyn," he replied, his tone gentle yet tinged with curiosity. "Sometimes, the things left unsaid can carry more weight than the words themselves." He took a sip of his coffee, his gaze thoughtful. "Gordon, was it? I may not know the man personally, but I can't help but wonder what sort of chapter he played in your life."

Carolyn's expression remained enigmatic, a mix of emotions flickering across her features. "Oh, he had his role, as they all do," she said, her voice distant yet tinged with a hint of sadness.

Douglas nodded, a sense of understanding passing between them. "Well, whenever you're ready to share, I'll be here. And even if you never do, know that I respect your choice."

A brief, appreciative smile curved Carolyn's lips. "Thank you, Douglas. Your understanding means more than you know."

Six Months Ago - St. Petersburg

"Who's she calling?" Arthur's voice interjected, a blend of surprise and concern lacing his words. His sudden shift from chirpy optimism caught both Martin and Douglas off guard, their exchanged glances reflecting their shared bemusement.

"Your dad." Douglas remarked dryly.

Arthur's eyes widened, his worry deepening. "What? Dad? Why?" he asked, his voice tinged with anxiety as he tried to process the unexpected turn of events.

Martin sighed and exchanged a knowing look with Douglas before turning his attention to Arthur. "Well, we think he's our best chance of selling Gerti."

"No, no, he can't have Gerti!" Arthur's voice quivered with a hint of desperation, his anxiety causing his words to come out louder than he intended. He was slowly approaching a state of mild hysteria.

Douglas arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he prodded further. "Why not?"

Arthur's defensiveness was evident in his tone as he replied, "He just shouldn't have her. And anyway, then we wouldn't have her!" His attachment to the aircraft was palpable, revealing a deeper emotional connection than one might expect.

"Arthur, we keep telling you: we can't afford to keep her," Douglas reiterated, his tone carrying a touch of exasperation as he simplified the obvious answer.

Arthur's frustrations seemed to give way to a sense of desperate hope. "Yes, but I keep telling you: you'll do something clever and it'll be all right," he said, his confidence in that statement unwavering.

Martin's curiosity shifted to Douglas, seeking more insight. "What's he like, then – Mr. Shappey?" he inquired, directing his question solely at his first officer.

Douglas assumed a thoughtful expression. "I don't know. I've never met him either. What's he like, Arthur?" he prodded, watching Arthur closely to gauge his reactions.

"Oh, he's uh..." Arthur stammered, his thoughts seemingly distant as his voice trailed off. "He's uh... he's uh..." He struggled to find the right words to describe his father's personality, all while carefully avoiding any hint of his usual chirpy optimism. It was evident that he was wrestling with a memory he wasn't willing to share with them.

"Good lord, Martin, I think you've broken him," Douglas remarked, a pleased expression crossing his face as he observed the effect of Martin's question on Arthur.

"No, no, no-" Arthur stutters. it's just that he's, er ... he's, er ..."

"I think..." Douglas interjected, his voice holding a hint of amusement. He wasn't taken aback; in fact, he had already anticipated Arthur's struggle. "I think what we may be witnessing here is Arthur's valiant attempt to employ an adjective other than 'brilliant'." His eyes sparkled with a knowing glint, clearly hinting at his understanding of Arthur's usual choice of words.

"Yeah, no-no, I-I wouldn't say he was br... I mean, obviously everyone's br..." Arthur's voice trailed off as he stumbled over his words, his hesitation evident as he searched for an appropriate description that deviated from his usual "brilliant." "No, he's not brilliant. He's, er ... he's all right."

"God!"Martin's exclamation hung in the air, laden with a mixture of disbelief and realization.

"Yes." Douglas responded simply, his tone carrying a tacit agreement.

The weight of Martin's words seemed to settle in as he contemplated the implications. "He must be awful." Martin mused, his thoughts mirroring the sentiment that had likely been running through his mind.

One Day Ago - Knapp-Shappey Residence

Douglas had appeared unannounced at Carolyn's doorstep, a surprise visit during his lone mandated day off for the remainder of the week, just before a passenger-less charter flight bound for Washington D.C. the next evening. His knuckles rapped on Carolyn's door several times, and it was Arthur who eventually answered, his voice carrying over the distinguished tones of his parents who were embroiled in a heated argument concerning Gerti, as the male steward exclaimed.

"Mind if I step inside?" Douglas inquired, his concern deepening as he strode purposefully past Arthur.

"If it were anyone else, I really wouldn't chance it, given my dad's true nature behind closed doors," Arthur admitted, his voice unusually soft and tinged with fear. "But knowing Mum trusts you and Herc over Gordon, at least I know she's in safe hands."

"Safe?" Douglas echoed, his words coming out in a rushed breath. He lowered his voice to a harsh, discreet whisper, hoping to avoid Gordon's ears. "Arthur," he continued, "what do you mean by 'safe'? Are you and Carolyn in danger?"

"Depends," Arthur replied, his voice catching as he fought back a sob. "Gordon doesn't come around often, and we prefer it that way. He's always on the phone, which keeps a lot of distance between them. But today of all days, he seems really, really desperate."

"It appears to be your mother's fortunate day that I happened to arrive, wouldn't you say?" Douglas quipped, a dry tone in his voice. He adjusted his coat with an air of confidence. Arthur thought he detected a subtle note of cheerfulness in the first officer's voice, providing a comforting undertone as they remained in the foyer. "I don't particularly mind another encounter; Gordon doesn't manage to instill fear in someone of Douglas 'Sky God' Richardson's caliber. Now, Arthur, do tell me, where might your parents be at this very moment?"

"In the living room." Arthur responded, mustering a weak smile as he followed closely behind Douglas, who led the way.

Douglas maintained a watchful silence as he observed Carolyn and Gordon embroiled in a heated domestic argument. It was not his usual inclination to place himself in potentially hazardous situations unless deemed entirely essential, and even then, it was typically for the safeguarding of Martin's well-being as captain. He would typically refrain from direct involvement with such passengers, leaving the task to Martin, who, despite his role as captain, struggled to handle them as effectively as Carolyn or Douglas. Carolyn recognized Martin's limitations and often chose to intervene herself, while also acknowledging that Douglas was the more skilled pilot of the two.

Today was an exception, a departure from the usual routine. Douglas couldn't simply stand by, acutely aware of his responsibilities as a longtime friend, manager, and CEO of MJN Air. Carolyn needed her first officer's support and intervention, and he was prepared to step in without hesitation.

"Gordon, good to see you again." Douglas greeted, projecting an air of faux familiarity with a touch more volume than Gordon's own voice. His tone carried a semblance of warmth, almost as if he were reuniting with an old friend. The effect was immediate; Gordon's fervent exchange with Carolyn came to an abrupt hush, the room cloaked in a heavy and charged silence.

"What the hell is he doin' here?" Gordon's voice crackled with anger and suspicion.

"He just dropped by," Arthur chimed in, his voice a mixture of reassurance and caution. He positioned himself discreetly behind Douglas, seeking refuge in the first officer's presence. "...to say hello, you know, like he always does."

"Douglas," Carolyn exclaimed, her voice betraying a mix of surprise and relief as she caught her breath. "I wasn't expecting your company today." The unexpected arrival of her first officer seemed to provide a glimmer of solace amidst the tense atmosphere.

"Carolyn." Douglas acknowledged, his tone measured and composed. He interjected smoothly, attempting to insert himself between his manager and Gordon while carefully crafting a plausible pretext.

Douglas found himself unable to openly discuss the pretext, a matter that Gordon had cleverly maneuvered to silence the usually eloquent first officer. Gordon's own penchant for deceit and underhanded tactics added an extra layer of complexity, making him a formidable adversary. This realization was particularly grating for Douglas, especially considering his three decades of experience as a pilot, which had honed his skills with unparalleled precision – a level of mastery he could never quite attain. It was infuriating to acknowledge that this was the man Carolyn leaned on during times of crisis, fueling Douglas's simmering anger even further.

"Send him away, Carolyn," Gordon warned, his tone carrying a note of authority. "This is family business."

"That decision is entirely up to Douglas," Carolyn responded, her voice unwaveringly firm. "My first officer is quite capable of making his own choices, and I doubt he'd easily defer to my influence."

Douglas chimed in, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. "She's absolutely right, you know. I was hoping to engage in a few discussions before our departure for Washington D.C. tomorrow. Flight plans, weather forecasts, and perhaps a dash of in-flight entertainment selection."

The tension in the room seemed to momentarily ease, a testament to Douglas's ability to insert his own brand of humor even in the midst of a serious situation. Gordon's expression remained stern, but his grip on his anger appeared to waver slightly in the face of Douglas's unexpected charm.

"I'm not buying it," Gordon declared, stepping away from Carolyn, a move that seemed to align with Douglas's intention all along. The first officer had cleverly orchestrated the conversation to divert Gordon's attention from his manager, engaging in a verbal sparring match with the irate Australian.

Douglas's tone remained composed, an air of evasiveness in his response. "Between you and me, I do have a penchant for employing strategy. And as for any aces up my sleeve, well, it's all part of the game, isn't it?" His gaze held a glint of amusement, a subtle challenge in his eyes as he deftly navigated the conversation.

"Everything's a game to you, isn't it?" Gordon's voice dripped with a potent mix of anger and frustration, the intensity of his emotions palpable. "Just like when you brazenly swiped Gerti from my cold, frozen fingers." The bitterness in his words was matched by the unmistakable fire in his eyes. Within those irate orbs, Douglas could discern a deep-seated resentment, a vehement disdain that simmered dangerously close to boiling over.

As Gordon clenched his fist, forming it into a tight ball, Douglas saw the imminent eruption of rage on the horizon. He could almost predict the trajectory of that fist, a calculated blow aimed squarely at him, fueled by a desire for revenge. A smug, self-satisfied grin danced on Douglas's lips, an acknowledgment of his victory in this power struggle. But that fleeting expression was abruptly extinguished as Gordon's knuckles connected with precision, a swift and accurate rabbit punch that caught the first officer off guard. The impact was jarring, a stark reminder that even the most cunning strategist could be vulnerable to a well-placed strike.

Staggering back, a mixture of surprise and pain etched across his features, Douglas found himself momentarily silenced by the unexpected assault. Carolyn's ex-husband had made a point, a forceful punctuation to their tumultuous encounter, and for once, the ever-confident first officer was left without a retort.

"Douglas!" Arthur's voice reverberated with concern, his worry evident as he watched Douglas stagger back from the unexpected blow. "Are you all right?"

"Gordon, I've had more than enough of your antics for one afternoon. Leave now, or I won't hesitate to involve the authorities," Carolyn's voice trembled with a potent mix of anger and determination as she stepped resolutely in front of her first officer. Her unwavering stance conveyed her fierce resolve to shield Douglas from any further harm.

"Carolyn don't go near him!" Douglas's urgent plea cut through the tense air, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic blend of vulnerability and desperation. He had positioned himself defensively, a futile attempt to shield his manager from the volatile situation that had escalated all too quickly.

Ignoring Douglas's plea, Carolyn remained steadfast, her eyes locked onto Gordon's as she asserted her authority. Her resolve was unwavering, a testament to the strength of her determination to protect her team.

"Look, your lip is bleeding," Arthur interjected, his voice momentarily diverting Douglas's attention. The sight of the blood served as a jarring reminder of the physical toll the altercation had taken. Douglas's hand instinctively rose to his lip, a fleeting touch that brought him back to the present moment, amidst the chaos that had unfolded.

"Very well," Gordon's smug grin persisted, his words laced with a veiled threat. "Take good care of yourselves, and especially that chatty officer of yours. He might find himself in a spot of trouble if he's not careful."

"Are you insinuating a threat against my first officer?" Carolyn's voice held a mix of concern and suspicion. Her protective instincts flared, and she was quick to address any potential danger to her team.

"I'm merely stating the obvious," Gordon retorted casually, his gaze shifting to the spot where Douglas stood beside Carolyn. He was acutely aware of the tension in the air and the protective stance Carolyn had taken. "Douglas does have a knack for finding trouble even without assistance." he continued, his attention never straying far from Douglas, who had managed to recover his composure after the unexpected blow.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear," Douglas's voice shattered the tense silence, his tone icy and laden with a veiled threat. His eyes locked onto Gordon's with a calculated intensity. "If you so much as lay a hand on Carolyn, Arthur, or, dare I say, Martin, you'll be facing consequences that you won't find enjoyable.

Gordon's smug facade faltered as he registered the genuine menace in Douglas's words. The room seemed to tighten with an air of foreboding, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the first officer's threat hung heavily in the air. With a tense nod, Gordon turned and exited, leaving behind a palpable atmosphere of warning and unease.

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