by Susan Stoker
Without thinking she slipped over to the aisle seat and when the terrorist was about to run by, she simply stuck out her leg. Damn, that hurt her more than she thought it would. She saw people trip people all the time on TV and in the movies, she had no idea that it’d hurt as much as it did.
The guy went down like a sack of flour. He landed hard on his hands and knees but Caroline knew he wasn’t going to stay down for long, so without thinking about the consequences, she leaped out of her seat and latched onto his back. She just had to keep him busy until one of Matthew’s teammates could come and help. At least she hoped one of the other guys would come up and help her soon…
Just as Caroline thought she had a good grip on the man, he flipped her over his head into the aisle and scrambled over her until he was on top of her and they were face to face. It’d all happened so quickly she didn’t have time to get up or to avoid him.
Shit, Caroline thought looking up at the man. He was pissed, but she was pissed too. The bastard was trying to kill all of them. Caroline flinched away as his fist came toward her face. He managed to hit her in the side of the head, but it would’ve hurt a lot more if he’d actually made contact with her face. She threw her knee up as hard as she could, and managed to knee him in the thigh. Not where she was aiming, but it slowed him down a bit.
Caroline continued to struggle with the man, each trying to hit and scratch and gain the upper hand. The terrorist out-weighed and out-muscled her, but she didn’t let it stop her. She fought like a wildcat. She had adrenaline on her side and a strong wish not to die as well.
Caroline scratched and struck out with her hands and knees and feet. Just as the guy thought he had the upper hand, she’d squirm out of his hold and get in a lucky strike. He was also getting his licks in as well, unfortunately. Caroline wasn’t feeling too much pain now, she supposed the adrenaline was preventing any true pain from getting through to her panicked brain, but later she knew she’d hurt…if she had a later.
Anytime now someone would come and help her…Caroline had to believe that. Suddenly the weight of the man on top of her lifted and Caroline saw the evil look in his eyes just as a knife cut through his neck. Caroline had to close her eyes as blood spurted out and splattered her chest and arms. It was warm and smelled coppery. Caroline supposed she should’ve been more freaked out, but she was just so thankful to be alive and to have prevented this man from getting to Matthew. Thank God one of his teammates had finally come to her rescue.
Caroline watched as the man Matthew called Mozart, yanked the man off her, practically threw the now-dead terrorist behind him into the aisle, and leapt over her toward the cockpit. He’d completely ignored her, but Caroline didn’t care. She was just glad Matthew would have some help if he needed it. There was no time for introductions or questions in the middle of a terrorist attack. She vaguely heard some of the women in the back of the plane crying hysterically, and knew she had to get up off the floor. If nothing else, the aisle had to be cleared.
Caroline sat up slowly, only then realizing her side hurt. Well, actually, everything hurt, but her side really hurt. Caroline looked up and knew now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. The women in the back of the plane were hysterical, Matthew’s other teammate, from row twenty four, was trying to calm the passengers in the back. She could see the two terrorists the SEALs had been fighting, lying dead in the back of the plane. Well, she just assumed they were dead. All she could see of the one dead guy was his feet sticking out into the aisle. He’d been partially dragged into one of the rows of seats. The other lay in the middle of the aisle, much as the dead guy she’d been fighting now was.
The entire scene was surreal. If she wasn’t in the middle of it, she’d think it was all a bad dream. All around her the other passengers were either passed out or dead from whatever was in the ice. Other than the women in the back crying, it was creepily quiet. She looked toward the front of the plane; she could see Matthew and Mozart in the cockpit. The door laid smashed open on its hinges; Matthew must’ve broken it in order to get to the cockpit and the terrorist. Another man lay motionless outside the door, obviously the terrorist who’d been flying the plane. His head was turned toward her, his eyes blankly staring.
Caroline turned her attention away from the eerie stare of the dead man, only to have her eyes wander to the dead body next to her in the aisle. His blood was flowing out of the knife wound to his neck and slowly soaking into the cheap carpet underneath him. Caroline could see the puddle growing bigger with each second that passed.
Caroline slowly pushed herself off the floor, ignoring her aches and pains. She tried to ignore the blood on herself from the terrorist that Mozart had killed. Surprisingly she wasn’t freaking out. She had no idea why. She should be, but she didn’t want to be a nuisance to Matthew and his team. It was vain of her, but she wanted them to think well of her.
Before Caroline could talk herself out of it, she leaned down and grabbed the man that had been trying to kill Matthew, and then her, by his ankles and slowly dragged him to the front of the plane. He was heavy, and it was harder than she thought it’d be to drag him. She watched, in a fog, as the blood oozing from his neck stained the aisle red as she drug him past the airline rows. She brought him into the galley and draped him over the other man that was already there. She had to get him out of aisle so when they did land, medical personnel could get through to the passengers.
After she’d completed that, she wasn’t sure what else she should do. She heard Matthew saying her name from the cockpit. Caroline was still seeing and hearing everything as though she was in a long tunnel...she stuck her head into the cockpit.
“Are you all right?” she heard Matthew ask urgently.
Caroline just nodded numbly.
“Is any of that blood yours?”
Caroline shook her head at the question. She didn’t really understand what he was asking, but just shook her head anyway.
“Is the co-pilot okay?”
“Uh, I’m sorry Matthew, I don’t know.” Caroline could barely string two sentences together. She hadn’t even thought about checking on the copilot. Duh, she should have.
In a soft voice meant to soothe, Wolf asked, “Can you go back to check and see if he’s in good enough shape to come up here and help?”
Caroline didn’t look at Mozart, who was currently sitting in the co-pilot’s seat and simply nodded. She spun around to go to the back of the plane, not seeing the concerned look on Matthew’s face as she turned away and went to find the injured co-pilot. All she could think over and over was Matthew needs the co-pilot, Matthew needs the co-pilot, Matthew needs the co-pilot…she kept repeating it to herself so she wouldn’t forget.
When she got to the back of the plane, the other SEAL turned towards her. Caroline couldn’t remember if Matthew had told her his name, it was enough that she remembered her errand.
“Matthew needs the co-pilot,” she said woodenly to the man. Caroline had no idea if she was making any sense, but he must have understood her because he nodded and turned toward the people huddled in the back of the plane. Caroline didn’t know what to do, and eventually just headed back to her seat.
She was scared and the adrenaline she’d been operating on for the last thirty minutes was wearing off. Caroline took the unused napkins from their drinks that they’d stuffed into the pockets in front of their seats and tried to wipe some of the blood off her shirt and arms. She was impressed with her clean up job, thinking she’d been surprisingly successful. As she watched, the co-pilot unsteadily made his way back up toward the cockpit. Mozart came out of the small space not long after and headed back toward his teammate in the back of the plane. On his way through, he noticed her and stopped.
“Are you sure you’re all right ma’am?” Mozart asked politely.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied not elaborating or looking up from her continued attempt at cleaning the blood off of herself. She just didn’t have it in her at the moment.
&n
bsp; Mozart paused a moment and stared hard at her. Sensing he hadn’t left, Caroline finally looked up and stared right back. What did he want her to say? That she wasn’t fine? That she was hurting and scared and wanted off this stupid plane? Even though it was all true, none of that would be helpful at the moment, so she kept quiet. She was hanging on by the thinnest thread, willing herself not to freak out. Finally Mozart nodded and continued down the aisle.
Caroline sat in the aisle seat in her row with her feet on the seat and her arms wrapped around her legs. Feeling rebellious, she’d refused to put on her seat belt. If she lived through a damn terrorist attack, she could take the risk of sitting unbelted. She knew it was ridiculous to feel like she had to sit in her assigned seat, it wasn’t as if anyone would care where she sat, and most of the other seats still had people in them. She would’ve sat back in her seat in the middle, but couldn’t stand to sit next to the guy at the window. He was slumped over. She could see his chest rising and falling, so she was glad for that. It would be horrifying if all the people all around them were all dead. On the other hand, she was glad they hadn’t been conscious for everything that had happened. If the reactions from the few people in the back of the plane were anything to go by, it wouldn’t have been a good scene. It would’ve been a lot harder to deal with everything if there had been hundreds of hysterical and panicking people.
The next thirty minutes were some of the longest in Caroline’s life. Somehow they felt longer than when they’d been waiting for the terrorists to make their move. Maybe they felt longer because she didn’t have Matthew sitting next to her? He made her feel safe and feel like nothing could hurt her. Now she just felt disconnected and shell shocked.
Feeling the plane start to descend, Caroline knew they weren’t in Norfolk yet, not enough time had gone by, so they must be making an emergency landing somewhere. She looked around again, most of the passengers still hadn’t moved. Not able to help herself, and having to know one way or another, Caroline lifted her hand, leaned over and checked the man’s pulse sitting by the window. He still had one, although it was faint and weak. Hopefully wherever they were landing had a good hospital. These people didn’t deserve to die.
The plane finally touched down. It wasn’t the smoothest landing, but they were on the ground. Caroline waited and heard the co-pilot come over the loudspeaker and explain what was happening in a wobbly voice.
“This is the co-pilot. We’ve made an emergency landing in Omaha, Nebraska. Everyone who can, please move to the back of the plane. There’ll be emergency personnel coming aboard as well as Federal Agents. We’ll get everyone off as soon as we can and anyone who needs medical help will get it. Thank God, we all made it.”
The plane fell silent. Caroline pushed herself to her feet and made her way to the back of the plane. There were eight civilians in the back besides her—five woman and three men. The men looked like businessmen, and the women…the women were gorgeous. Jesus, where were the ugly people? Oh crap, was she the ugly person here? The women were all tall and slender. One had attached herself to the SEAL that been sitting in row twenty four…Caroline still hadn’t learned what his name was, and another was hovering close to the man Caroline knew as Mozart. The other women were huddled with the civilian men. It looked as if they’d all bonded over the horrifying experience, while Caroline was once more left sitting on the outside looking in.
The SEALs had moved through the cabin checking the statuses of the other passengers, but there wasn’t a lot they could do for them. Caroline eased past the women hanging all over the SEALs without looking at them, and moved to the back corner of the galley.
The jump seats in the back were already occupied, one with a man and a woman on his lap, and the other with another one of the women, who didn’t look inclined to move, so Caroline put her back to the wall and slid down until she was sitting. Curling her knees up in front of her and laying her head on her knees, Caroline figured it’d be a while before they’d be leaving and she just wanted to rest.
Caroline didn’t see Mozart and the SEAL whose name she never learned, exchange glances. She was just tired and scared. She wanted a shower to get the rest of the dead guy’s blood off of her, but knew that wasn’t happening anytime soon.
Hearing the medical personnel arrive on board and organizing the removal of the passengers, Caroline overheard Brandy, one of the women standing in the back with the other conscious passengers, exclaim over Mozart and an apparent knife wound he had.
“Don’t worry about me,” he’d told her. “It’s only a flesh wound, I should know, I’m a medic. Besides, the hospital will have enough to worry about with the other passengers. I’ll look at it myself, or get one of my buddies to take a look at it. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me, but make sure the EMTs get a good look at you, sweetheart, to make sure you’re all right.”
Caroline silently agreed, admiring him. Thinking about her own throbbing side, the SEAL was right. Even though she was hurting, she was alive and didn’t want to be a bother. It probably wasn’t even a big deal, just a scratch. The other people on the plane needed medical care more than she did—they were unconscious and had ingested who knew what. Caroline wished she could’ve been more help. If she’d been able to figure out what chemical was put into the ice the doctors would be able to help the passengers quicker, but without her lab, she had no idea.
Finally all of the passengers had been taken off to local hospitals. Caroline had fallen into a half-conscious state—awake, but barely aware of all that was going on around her.
After the plane was emptied of the other passengers, the police and FBI herded the little civilian group in the back of the plane outside so the EMTs could look them over. Caroline watched with detached interest the reactions of the other women and men to the dead terrorists scattered around the plane. They were now covered in sheets, but the blood was still clear on the floor as they walked past and over it.
Caroline didn’t think anyone was really hurt, but there was no way the police were going to let anyone get off the plane without at least being looked over. There were too many sue-happy people in the world today for them to let that happen.
When it was Caroline’s turn, the EMT wasn’t happy with her. “Look, I can see you’re favoring your side, let me look at it.”
Caroline tried to wave him off. “No, really, it’s nothing. I just hit it when I fell on the plane—it’s fine.”
“I should at least look at it,” he insisted.
“Well…” Caroline was about to give in when Brandy, one of the civilian women, piped up from next to the young man.
“Sir? I’m feeling a bit dizzy…do you think I can sit down somewhere?”
When Caroline looked at her, she didn’t think she looked sick at all. The woman had her hand wrapped around the EMT’s bicep and she was leaning into him, crushing her ample boobs against him.
“Uh, yeah, okay, let me finish up here and I’ll be right with you. Please sit on that bumper right there so you don’t fall and hurt yourself.”
Caroline wanted to roll her eyes. When the EMT turned back to her she could see he was already thinking about Brandy. She put him out of his misery.
“Look, just give me some alcohol wipes or something. I’m not hurt that badly and you can go and see what Brandy needs.”
It was ridiculous at how quickly the man agreed with her and pulled out some antiseptic wipes. Caroline thought meanly that it was a good thing she wasn’t hurt more badly, she’d probably be lying on the ground bleeding to death and the men around her would still probably ignore her.
After each of the conscious passengers were looked at, the police reassured that no one had any life threatening injuries, and they’d all signed paperwork refusing transportation to the hospital, the group was herded onto a little bus.
As the shuttle bus headed toward the airport, away from the tarmac, Caroline was a little depressed. Matthew, Mozart, and the other SEAL had left in a separate bus to who-knew-w
here. She watched closely as the SEALs walked to their shuttle to see if Matthew would acknowledge her in any way, and of course he didn’t. He and his teammates had their heads together as they walked away without looking back at the plane. She shouldn’t have been surprised. It happened to her every day.
It was just the eight passengers left, plus herself. Caroline followed the other passengers onto the shuttle. They were driven toward the terminal and hustled in through a side door into a room in the airport. The federal agents wanted to hear their side of the story.
Two hours later Caroline was ready to scream. She wanted to get away from here. She just wanted to be in Norfolk and have all this behind her. They’d been questioned as a group, then separately. The other passengers had no clue what had happened. They’d told the authorities they were sitting in their seats one minute and the next, men with knives had herded them to the back of the plane and while they heard yelling and such, they hadn’t seen anything. No one knew what had made the other passengers pass out.
Caroline just nodded along with whatever the others said. No one paid too much attention to her. She was used to it though and, in fact, had counted on it now. She explained the blood on herself away by saying she’d slipped and fallen in the blood of one of the terrorists. She didn’t want to say anything because she knew SEAL missions were notoriously secret. And while this wasn’t a mission, they were in the wrong place…or was that the right place, at the right time? She didn’t want to spill any of their secrets or anything. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say or not say. The FBI and whomever else would learn what they needed to from the SEALs themselves, not from her. She wasn’t even a player in the whole drama, she told herself. She was just Caroline Martin, a regular citizen.
After the authorities had heard everything the awake passengers knew about the attempted hijacking, they were free to go, after being warned not to talk to the press. Yeah, right! thought Caroline… A plane hijacking was big business for the media, huge. And she knew there was no way Brandy wouldn’t use this experience to get herself on television. Caroline had been glad to hear Brandy and the others didn’t know what Matthew and his friends did for a living, but of course there was speculation that they were some kind of military secret agents or something.