The first officer swallowed.
"That's correct."
The CEO watched him.
"Have you verified the listed principal's authority to request this flight?"
For a moment, the young man's eyes widened.
The captain took a sharp step toward him.
"Don't answer."
The first officer looked down.
Then said quietly.
"I'm not responsible for corporate authorization."
The CEO considered the answer.
It wasn't entirely false.
Flight crews relied on authorized dispatch and operations systems.
But crew members also had responsibilities to report discrepancies rather than knowingly proceed on questionable information.
She looked toward the younger man.
"If you have concerns about this flight package, you should raise them through your operational reporting channel."
The pilot laughed harshly.
"She's giving my first officer instructions now."
The CEO didn't respond.
She watched the younger man's expression.
For a moment, it seemed he might speak.
Then he lowered his eyes.
And the opportunity passed.
At the sixth minute, the captain finally noticed the Rolex.
His gaze settled on the diamonds around the case and bracelet.
For a moment, he looked confused.
Then his expression hardened again.
"Nice watch."
The CEO glanced down.
"Thank you."
He smiled unpleasantly.
"Borrowed for the event?"
She looked toward him.
"No."
He laughed.
"Sure."
For the first time, the CEO felt an almost overwhelming urge to tell him exactly what he was risking.
She could have opened her phone.
Displayed the ownership records.
And ended the misunderstanding immediately.
But she remembered the authorization document with her forged signature.
The crew's behavior was no longer merely offensive.
It was evidence of how people were responding to a departure that hadn't been properly approved.
She wanted to know whether the captain would choose to verify the facts when given repeated opportunities.
He hadn't.
Neither had the senior flight attendant.
And the ground coordinator seemed to be avoiding the one question that mattered.
The CEO raised her wrist.
The Rolex glittered.
"Three minutes, Captain."
He frowned.
"You're still doing that?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
He stepped closer.
"Let me make something very clear. I control who boards this aircraft."
She looked at him.
"You control safety decisions within your professional authority."
His smile disappeared.
She continued.
"That isn't the same as owning the airplane."
For a fraction of a second, the captain froze.
Then he laughed.
The sound was louder than before.
"You hear this?"
He turned toward the first officer.
"She thinks she owns the airplane."
The flight attendant smiled.
But the ground coordinator, still speaking quietly into his phone, looked up sharply.
And the CEO noticed that he no longer seemed amused.
The next minute passed slowly.
A small service vehicle rolled along the apron beyond the aircraft.