They Dragged Me Off The Plane And Dozens Died Waiting Chapter 04

They Dragged Me Off The Plane And Dozens Died Waiting Chapter 04

“Sir, we were told to ensure the safety of the last first–class passenger on this flight. May I ask what 

that passenger’s name is?” 

The ground manager hesitated, typed something 

into his computer, and turned the screen toward 

the lead officer 

“Good evening, officer. This is the last first–class 

passenger to board. Her name is Patricia 

Whitmore” 

“Thank you. We need to ensure her flight departs 

safely is there an issue?” 

“It’s her!” the manager pointed at me. “This 

woman, Emily Carter, insists that if she doesn’t 

board, the plane can’t take off.” 

‘She’s been disrupting airport operations and 

delaying the flight.” 

I watched the police officers walk toward me. 

Something was wrong. Weren’t they supposed to be protecting me? 

Then it hit me. They didn’t want to reveal my information ahead of time. 

James Miller probably thought I was already on 

the plane. 

This was a misunderstanding. I needed to clear it 

up fast. 

I opened my mouth. “Officers, this is all a 

misunderstanding.” 

“Oh, now it’s a misunderstanding? Where was that attitude a minute ago when you were screaming 

that the plane wasn’t going anywhere without 

you?” 

“Looks like the princess is about to get what’s coming to her. Keep those gifts coming, chat. Let’s 

celebrate.” 

His interruption cut me off. Before I could continue, the officer stepped toward me. 

“Ma’am, please come with us to the station for questioning. If we find you’ve done nothing wrong, 

we’ll clear your name.” 

He reached for my arm to escort me out of the 

airport. 

Anger surged through me. My face went tight, and 

I couldn’t help shouting. 

“Screw the station. I need to get on that plane. Call your superior and ask who you’re supposed to be 

protecting!” 

“I have to get to Oak Ridge City. People are going 

to die if I don’t get there. Do you understand me?” 

“For God’s sake, can you please figure out what 

orders you were given?” 

“And get them to turn off those streams. Is this how the police operate now, for public 

entertainment?” 

I was so angry I wasn’t watching my mouth. 

The officers‘ faces darkened. I wasn’t just questioning their professionalism. I was questioning their intelligence. 

“We know exactly what orders we received.” 

“But you are right about one thing. Turn off those 

streams and stop recording.” 

Two officers went to check the bystanders‘ phones. 

The ground manager sidled up to the lead officer, “Don’t mind her, Officer.” 

“This is just how she is. Doesn’t listen to reason. 

Probably not right in the head. Thinks the world 

revolves around her.” 

“Just take her in, give her a talking to, and send her 

on her way.” 

Then he turned to me. “The plane takes off in 

about ten minutes. So you’re definitely not making this flight.” 

“So, what do you think? Does it take off or not?” 

He grinned at me, enjoying himself. 

I glanced at his name tag. “Brian Holloway. Mr. 

Holloway.” 

Now that I knew the plane was about to leave, I 

calmed down completely. 

I sat down in a chair behind me, leaned back, and 

crossed my legs. 

“I said this plane isn’t taking off. And even if it 

does, they’ll turn it around.” 

“Officer, I strongly advise you to double check the 

name of the person you’re supposed to be 

protecting.” 

“And while you’re at it, look into the relationship 

between Patricia Whitmore and Manager Brian 

Holloway.” 

Brian’s expression flickered. 

When I’d heard him tell the police that the last passenger was Patricia, I noticed the ground crew all changed expressions, too. Their eyes had gone 

to Brian. 

Those two were definitely connected. Now I understood why I’d been blocked. 

A manager trying to pull strings for someone he knew, thinking he’d picked an easy target. 

My sudden change in tone and my relaxed posture 

made the officer hesitate. 

But he remembered how urgent his orders were. 

He still had his team surround me. “Ma’am, you’re disrupting airport operations. That’s a crime. We’re placing you under arrest.” 

Two officers pulled me up from the chair and put 

handcuffs on my wrists. 

They started dragging me out of the airport. 

Then came the sound of even more footsteps, 

faster, more coordinated, getting closer. 

“Holy shit. That team is carrying guns.”