“Aircraft substitution.”
That answer interested him.
Not because it sounded convincing.
Because he knew it was false.
Nexus managed portions of Transatlantic Air’s fleet planning and ground-operations coordination.
Alexander knew the registration number of the aircraft waiting outside.
He had looked at it through the lounge window without consciously intending to.
The airplane at A17 was the same aircraft that had been scheduled for the route since the previous evening.
There had been no substitution.
Even if there had been, Nexus would have received the change automatically.
It had not.
Alexander looked back at Carol.
“What aircraft was substituted?”
Her expression tightened.
“Sir, I don’t have that information available.”
“You just told me there was an aircraft substitution.”
“The cabin configuration changed.”
“How?”
Carol looked past him at the growing priority line.
“Sir, would you please step to the side while I resolve this?”
Alexander did not move.
“What seat are you offering?”
She typed again.
“24B.”
He thought he had misheard.
“Twenty-four B.”
“Yes.”
“Premium economy?”
Carol smiled thinly.
“A very comfortable seat.”
“Middle?”
“Yes.”
Alexander looked toward the jet bridge.
Then back at the phone in his hand.
“I paid for first class.”
“You will be compensated for the difference.”
“That is not the question.”
Carol exhaled.
The people behind him were watching now.
Alexander could feel it.
A familiar secondary pressure.
The pressure placed on the person being treated unfairly to make the unfairness less inconvenient for everyone else.
Carol lowered her voice.
“The first-class cabin is full.”