Kate Morrison boarded Flight 831 the way she lived her off-duty life—quiet, invisible, and perfectly ordinary. Window seat, row 14. Worn jeans, a simple sweater, hair pulled back. Just another tired traveler heading home to Dallas with a paperback and zero desire to talk to anyone.
No one on that plane knew the truth.
The woman blending into the crowd was Captain Kate “Viper” Morrison—one of the most skilled and decorated F-22 pilots in the United States Air Force. She had flown missions that would never make headlines, trained the pilots who guarded American airspace, and logged more hours in a Raptor than most aviators dream of.
Today, though, she only wanted peace.
But twenty minutes into her book, peace vanished.
A faint tremor whispered through the Boeing 777. Nothing dramatic—just enough for Kate’s instincts to perk up. Years of flying at the edge of danger had sharpened her senses. She told herself to relax.
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