Searching for the Pieces
There we are, in an uncontrolled dive. The readings are all going crazy, the crew are freaking out, the passengers are panicked, and there's McDaniel. A statue with a thousand-yard stare and a captain's cap. Now, I can get us out of this dive. I know how to stabilize us and pull up fast enough we won't hit the water and slow enough we won't break apart. But McDaniel needs to pass me control. I'm his co-pilot, and he's too frozen to give me the stick.
Until I reach past him to do it myself. Then he fights me like a rabid dog, clawing, pushing, anything he can do to get me away from his controls. I don't know what's in his head, but he does not want me there.
The window's closing. If I don't break the dive now, we'll plow into the ocean no matter what I do. So I grab the gun kept for terrorist emergencies and shoot him.
So if you're going to send me to jail, just know that the only reason you have the choice to make is because I did it in the first place. Otherwise, they'd still be searching for the pieces.