For the first time since she had approached him, Ethan seemed uncomfortable.
Not intimidated.
He had shown no sign of intimidation even when she dismissed him.
This was different.
He disliked talking about himself.
Victoria recognized that immediately because she had spent her entire career surrounded by people with the opposite problem.
Ethan looked toward the helicopter.
“Flight-systems engineering.”
Andrew’s face changed.
One of the technicians looked up.
Victoria narrowed her eyes.
“You’re an engineer.”
“I was.”
“Where?”
Ethan hesitated.
“Apex Aerospace.”
Nobody moved.
Apex Aerospace was not a small repair company.
It was one of the most respected rotorcraft engineering organizations in the industry, known for advanced flight-control integration, turbine management, and executive helicopter development programs.
Andrew stared.
“Apex?”
Ethan nodded.
“How long?”
“Thirteen years.”
Victoria’s eyes moved over him again.
Thirty-eight.
Thirteen years at Apex.
Five years at this facility.
The arithmetic created another question.
“What did you do?”
Ethan adjusted the handle of his diagnostic case.
“Different things.”
Andrew almost laughed.
“Different things?”
Ethan looked at him.
“Systems integration.”
“What systems?”
“Startup architecture. Engine-control interfaces. Some vibration-response work. Later, integration lead for executive rotorcraft platforms.”
Andrew slowly lowered the tablet in his hand.
“You led startup integration?”
“Yes.”
“For which programs?”
Ethan named two internal platform designations.
Andrew’s entire posture changed.
One designation had been associated with an architecture later licensed into multiple executive rotorcraft families.
Including portions of the control philosophy in Victoria’s helicopter.
Andrew stared at him.
“I’ve read your technical notes.”
Ethan said nothing.
“E. Cole?”
“Yes.”
“The cold-start transient paper?”
Ethan looked mildly embarrassed.
“That was a long time ago.”
Andrew actually laughed.
Not mockingly.
In disbelief.
“You wrote the paper our troubleshooting team still references for intermittent start faults.”
Victoria looked between them.
The world rearranged itself in her mind.
Ten minutes earlier, she had told Ethan to return to his maintenance assignment because qualified engineers were handling the problem.
Now the manufacturer’s lead specialist was telling her Ethan had written material those engineers still used.
Victoria felt heat rise under her collar despite the cold wind.
She was not accustomed to embarrassment.
More accurately, she was not accustomed to being forced to confront it this directly.
“You left Apex,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ethan looked toward her.
“That part isn’t relevant.”
“It seems relevant.”
“To the helicopter?”
“No.”
“Then it can wait.”
Victoria almost objected.
Then stopped.
He had just repaired her aircraft after she treated him like an interruption.
Demanding his biography immediately afterward suddenly seemed absurd.
Andrew extended his hand.
Ethan looked at it, then shook it.
“I owe you an apology,” Andrew said.
“You don’t.”
“I dismissed you.”
“You had three days of people offering guesses.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
Ethan gave a small shrug.
“Check the harness retention around the battery bay before the next hundred-hour inspection. If one connector was disturbed, make sure the others weren’t carrying strain.”
Andrew nodded immediately.
“I will.”
Victoria heard it.
The engineer who had resisted Ethan ten minutes earlier was now taking his recommendation without debate.
Her phone rang again.
This time her general counsel’s name appeared.
She answered.
“Yes.”
“Victoria, if you are not airborne in the next fifteen minutes, we need to move the meeting.”
Victoria looked toward the now-running helicopter.