The Deception ~ LN4

9

Mercedes was used to managing challenging situations at 35,000 feet. Crosswind landings, equipment malfunctions, medical emergencies – she'd handled them all with the kind of calm competence that had earned her a reputation as one of the airline's most reliable captains.

But nothing in her training had prepared her for sitting in the McLaren hospitality suite at Silverstone, watching her two worlds collide in spectacular fashion.

The morning had started normally enough. She'd woken early, doing her usual pre-flight checks – except today, instead of reviewing weather patterns and flight plans, she was double-checking paddock passes and trying to keep her crew from vibrating out of their shoes with excitement.

"I still can't believe we're actually here," Sienna had whispered as they walked through the paddock, clutching Mercedes' arm tight enough to cut off circulation. "Like, actually here. At Silverstone. With actual F1 people."

"You do remember I'm dating one of those 'actual F1 people,' right?" Mercedes had teased, but she understood the excitement. Even after months of dating Lando, there was still something surreal about casual conversations about tire compounds and downforce over breakfast.

Now, watching James regale Daniel Ricciardo with tales of his flying exploits, that surreal feeling was back in full force.

"And then," James was saying, gesticulating wildly with a coffee cup, "she just casually announces 'Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be experiencing some light chop' – as if we weren't flying through the worst storm I've ever seen!"

Daniel leaned forward, grinning. "Light chop?"

"Pilot speak for 'hold onto your hats but don't panic,'" Sarah explained, settling into one of the comfortable suite chairs. "Though in Mercedes' case, it usually means 'I've got this under control, so everyone calm down.'"

Mercedes felt her cheeks warm. "It wasn't that dramatic."

"Not dramatic?" Sienna snorted. "The plane was practically doing barrel rolls!"

"It absolutely was not," Mercedes corrected firmly, slipping automatically into captain mode. "It was moderate turbulence with some wind shear complications. Totally manageable."

"Says the woman who landed a commercial airliner in conditions that had three other flights diverting," James added proudly. "Tommy's still got the flight tracking screenshot saved."

Oscar, who'd been quietly observing the exchange from his corner of the suite, raised an eyebrow. "Tommy?"

"James' son," Mercedes explained, grateful for the slight subject change. "He's twelve and wants to be a pilot."

"Wanted to be a pilot," James corrected. "Now he's torn between that and racing, thanks to someone." He shot a meaningful look at Lando, who'd just joined them, still in his race suit with the top half tied around his waist.

"Hey, no reason he can't do both," Lando grinned, dropping into the seat beside Mercedes and stealing a sip of her water. "Though maybe start with the flight simulator before trying any actual barrel rolls."

Mercedes elbowed him gently. "Don't encourage them. I'm still trying to convince the crew that flight was routine."

"Routine?" Charlotte looked up from her tablet, her PR director's instincts clearly sensing a story. "Is that why there's a whole Reddit thread dedicated to tracking your landing statistics?"

"There's a what?" Mercedes and Lando asked simultaneously.

Charlotte turned her screen around. "Apparently, you've developed quite a following in the aviation community. They're particularly impressed by your crosswind landing consistency. There's quite a detailed analysis here – someone's actually pulled ADS-B data to track your approach angles."