Placing her feet on the pedals, she gripped the steering yoke with white-knuckled hands. "You think I can't fly this plane, don't you?" Her words came out through clenched teeth.

"I know you can't fly this plane. But I'm willing to give you a chance."

Grinding her teeth, she slowly turned the steering yoke. The plane responded by making a gentle bank to the right. But as she turned, the plane's nose tipped down slightly. Her eyes went wide.

"You're losing altitude," he commented.

"I know that." She closed her eyes and tried to remember everything she knew about airplanes, then slowly pulled back on the yoke. The plane's nose began to rise again and a self-satisfied smile curled her lips. This wasn't so tough. She glanced at the compass. South. They'd have to head south to get to Seattle. And when they got there, she'd make a try at landing the plane. If she knew one thing about Joe Brennan, he wouldn't let her crash his precious plane over the stupid game they were playing.

"Before you fly into that weather ahead, you better file a new flight plan with Fairbanks. They'll need to know what part of the wilderness to search after we go down."

"We're not going down," she said.

"If you fly us into that storm, Kincaid, I can guarantee we'll go down. The wings will ice up and we won't have enough power to maintain our air speed. We'll slowly lose altitude and we'll probably crash somewhere in the Alaska Range. Maybe if we're lucky, you'll hit Mount McKinley."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she snapped.

"Immensely."