Noah dared a glance through the side window. One of the boats was only a few hundred meters out. He could see the figures onboard waving, signaling. “Do they think we’ll surrender?” Jamie asked quietly. “I think they think we’re out of options,” Noah replied.
Jamie’s hands trembled as he clicked his seatbelt back into place. “Are we?” Noah’s lips pressed into a line. “Not yet.” The waves tossed the plane again, harder this time. The floor shifted. From somewhere in the rear, a low metallic creak echoed forward. One of the crates had tipped slightly in its harness.