A storm raged outside, and turbulence and changes in course sent the plane lurching violently from time to time. Natasha remained perfectly calm, however. Sitting in her spacious seat, she even felt like taking out some loose powder to touch up her makeup.
Bennett clutched the fabric of his seat and stammered a question at Natasha:
"Is it really okay to fly in weather like this?"
"It's perfectly safe. Not a problem at all."
Natasha answered with a smile.
"Really?"
Bennett still wasn't reassured.
"Just stay in your seat and relax. We'll land safely."
Natasha reassured him, "See that door?"
She pointed toward the cockpit. "The pilot in there is from Moscow. We'll definitely be fine."
"Moscow? Are people from there really good at flying?" Bennett asked in confusion.
"Haven't you heard? When Russians fly a plane, they either land at the airport or end up on the news."
Seeing the boy's bewildered expression, Natasha smiled. "You can go say hello to him."
Bennett was curious too, so he obediently went to greet the pilot.
Within minutes, he came running back with a horrified expression. "Natasha! That man is drinking while he flies! When I went over, he held up his bottle and asked me to take a few swigs with him! He drinks even more than Victor, who spends all day slacking off at the Goethe Grand Hotel! Is this really okay?"
Natasha's lips curved into a smile.
"I was joking with you. Our captain has been flying fighter jets for decades. His skills are rock solid. If he couldn't handle a little problem like this, he could pack his bags right now. As for the drinking, that's just a little hobby of his."
Hearing Natasha's explanation, Bennett breathed a sigh of relief, then nervously asked, "Then when will