Page 2 of Final Approach
When she looked up, one man five rows ahead, sitting in the aisle seat to her right, caught her attention. He seemed on edge, his movements rigid, jerky. She’d noticed him as they boarded, but he settled down, so she just decided to keep an eye on him. It appeared his restlessness had returned, though, and Kristine narrowed her eyes. Nervous flier? Personal problems? Or something more?
Or nothing?
The aircraft jolted, and a brief but rocky turbulence silenced the occupants. Kristine gripped the armrest, her body tensing. The captain’s voice came over the speaker. “Sorry about that, folks. Hit a little pocket there. We’re back to cruising smoothly, so go back to your book or your movie and we’ll be on the ground in about an hour and a half.”
Kristine relaxed. She wasn’t usually jumpy. She flew all the time, but today ... there was just ... something.
Lainie, now wide awake, quirked a brow at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Yes, of course.” Again, the turbulence was nothing major. It happened.
The uneasy passenger stood up. Looked around. Then headed to the back restroom. Kristine shifted so she could watch for his return. At the ten-minute mark, she was about to ask Amanda or Jeffrey, the two flight attendants, to go check on him. Just as she started to rise, the man exited the lavatory and passed Kristine to take his seat again. Andrew rose and walked to the front of the plane, slipping around Amanda in first class, and went into the lavatory. Kristine caught Amanda’s eye as she moved into the main cabin. Jeffrey was at the tail of the plane. Amanda raised a brow and nodded in the direction of the man who’d captured Kristine’s attention.
Kristine gave a subtle nod back.
Amanda moved toward him, her smile friendly and professional. The passenger jumped to his feet again, his hand diving into his jacket as he stepped into the aisle.
Kristine reached under her jacket to release the snap holding her SIG in its holster. She’d intervene only if the cockpit was threatened. Andrew and Nathan were FBI. They had their weapons and would handle it to that point.
Amanda stopped next to him. “Sir, please sit back down,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “Everything is fine. If you’ll just put your seat belt on—”
“Stay back!” He pulled out a makeshift knife and held it to the neck of the person in the aisle seat next to him.
Amanda let out a startled yelp and stumbled back.
“Unbuckle or I’ll slit your throat,” he told the passenger.
She obeyed and he pulled the woman to her feet. Her shocked whimpers reached Kristine’s ears even over the eruption of the panicked, screaming passengers.
Nathan rose, pulling his gun. “FBI,” he said. “Drop your weapon. Now.”
“I’m getting in the cockpit,” he shouted. “Open the cockpit!” His words were directed at Amanda.
A threat to the cockpit. That was Kristine’s cue. She pulled her gun and stood. “Everyone, stay calm!” The command in her voice stilled most of the people. “I’m an air marshal,” she said. “Sir, you need to drop the knife now.” The cockpit had a keypad code that only certain people knew. Amanda was one of those people. Kristine threw a look at Nathan. If he had a clear shot he’d take it, but right now, he didn’t. No one did.
“I got your back,” Jesslyn murmured. “We all do.” Jesslyn was a fire marshal, but she was also trained law enforcement.
Kenzie was also on her feet. A detective with the Lake City Police Department, Kenzie was a member of the SWAT team along with Cole and James, who also stood ready to assist. They wouldn’t have their weapons on them, but they were still powerful backup.
The man’s gaze flicked around the cabin, his desperation clear. “This plane is not going to Key West! I need the captain to fly it to another destination where I plan to disappear. Let me in the cockpit. Now!”
Disappear? Hmm ... maybe. She wasn’t sure she believed that.
Kristine kept her focus on him and moved into the aisle toward him. If she could get close enough, she could take him down, but firing at him with a hostage in front of him wasn’t an option at the moment. “We can talk about this,” she said. “No one needs to get hurt.”
Andrew stepped out of the lavatory, his eyes bouncing between Kristine and the hijacker, who had his back to Andrew. It took him a nanosecond to read the situation. She shot him a quick glance and he gave a subtle nod indicating his readiness to help. His hand went to his weapon. Would he have a shot?
No. Amanda had just moved between Andrew and the hijacker. He frowned and shook his head. No shot.
Passengers whispered prayers, some crying, as the hijacker’s hand trembled.
In a flash of movement, a man across the aisle lunged at the hijacker. The cabin erupted into chaos as the assailant, caught off guard, plunged the homemade weapon into his hostage’s shoulder.
The wounded woman’s scream echoed through the cabin and she went to the floor—and left the knife in the hijacker’s hand. He swung the blade and caught his attacker across a raised forearm. Blood spurted and the man screamed and fell back. Another passenger jumped up to help him. “I’m a nurse,” she said.
Andrew rushed at the hijacker and Kristine looked for an opening. Anywhere she could put a bullet in the man, but he twisted and slipped away from Andrew. Quick as a blink, he had his weapon against another woman’s throat. “He shouldn’t have done that! He shouldn’t have ... I didn’t ... She’s...” He turned his attention to his new captive. “Get your seat belt off and stand up or I’ll cut you too!”
Lainie rushed to help the fallen woman while James looked like he wanted to protest, but he clamped his mouth shut.
