“No!” he snarls. “Can’t you see I’m busy here?”
I nod and take another hesitant step toward him.
“Yes, but you’re scaring these folks,” I manage in a steady tone. “There’s no need to wave the gun around. At least put that down,” I continue in what I hope is a reasonable manner. I can hear people gasping and murmuring as I edge closer to the man, and then I’m so close that the muzzle’s actually pressed in the valley between my bounteous breasts.
“Please, you don’t have to do this,” I whisper. “Let’s talk about it, okay?”
The man snorts, merely pressing the firearm even further into my bosom.
“Talk about what?” he snarls. “What could you possibly have to offer me? I’m fucked already as it is.”
I nod, trying to remain calm. Then, I slowly raise one hand and push his gun away from me so that it points towards the plane wall.
“Please,” I say in a beseeching voice. “Let’s just talk, okay? I’m sure whatever it is, it’ll be fine. We can work it out.”
He snarls again, a dark flush on those high cheekbones.
“There’s nothing that you can say or do that will make me—”
But instead, I gently reach for his free hand and tug on it.
“Let’s go to the lavatory and talk this through,” I say in a calm tone, even as my voice trembles a little. “We’ll have privacy there, and you can tell me what’s on your mind.”
He’s goes as still as a statue and my heart sinks because I know I have no way of moving this man on my own. He has to come of his own free will, his frame is so enormous. But then, the man jerks his head towards the lavatory.
“Fine,” he rasps. “Let’s go.”
I nod and move slow, even as my heart beats triple time.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” I say in a soothing voice. “It’ll just be me and you, okay? You can tell me everything once we’re in private.”
Then, I shoot a quick look at the flight attendants at the end of the gangway, even as I continue leading the big man towards the lavatories. I can only hope that they understand what I’m about to do, and a particularly intelligent-looking redhead nods slightly, her hands gripping the seat back in front of her.
Then, I open the door to one of the first-class lavatories before pulling the hijacker inside with me. Trying to appear normal, I close the door once more, and spin around with a smile on my face. Sure enough, there’s a hurried shuffling sound from outside, and if I’m not mistaken, the flight attendants are currently wedging some heavy object against the door so that we won’t be able to get out.
But that was my plan all along, and I smile hesitantly at the terrorist even as my heart beats like a drum in my chest. I’m all alone in a tiny space with a confirmed lunatic. What do I do now? Taking a deep breath, I stare into those blue eyes. I have to keep my wits about me, no matter what, because lives are at stake, including my own.
“Now handsome,” I coo in a dulcet voice. “Isn’t that better? We’re all alone finally, so is there something you’d like to tell me?”
3
SYDNEY
The man ignores me when he realizes we’ve been locked inside. Instead, he rushes the small door, pounding on it with his fists.
“Open the goddamn door!” he roars, tugging on the knob before throwing his weight against the plastic slab, but of course, the damned thing doesn’t budge. They’ve done something outside so that the door remains steadfastly shut. That realization throws the hijacker into a frenzy. He curses as he kicks the door, growling and raging with all his might. In fact, I can hear people screaming outside as he continues trying to beat his way out of the bathroom, but nothing works.
“They’re not going to open it when you’re going crazy like that,” I manage in a small voice. “Not to mention you having that gun…”
Unfortunately, that just reminds the hijacker that he has a weapon in his hand and he lifts the pistol, aiming for the lock on the door.
“No, it’s already broken—!” I rush, but it’s too late. He takes aim and fires, even as I squeeze my eyes shut with my hands clapped over my ears, cowering into a corner. What the hell is going on? But when I open my eyes, nothing’s happened. The hijacker is still standing there, huge and huffing with fury now, his blue eyes murderous.
“Stop!” I beg, tears coming to my eyes. “You don’t have to do this—”
“Shut up,” he rasps, not even looking at me. Instead, he raises his gun again and I shake my head with desperation.
“No! Don’t shoot again, please, it isn’t going to work! The lock’s already broken but it doesn’t make a difference because they’ve already barricaded us in. All that’s going to happen is the ricochet of the bullet, putting both of us at risk.”