sir, i can check those for you. he turns, somewhat startled and then smiles. he is a very handsome, exotic-looking man and the effect on fran is not unnoticed.
let me see what i can do. with a little expert arranging, she slides the bags into the compartment.
fran. have a nice flight. she walks away towards the forward compartment. an american family, husband and wife and two children, boy and girl, take their seats. the children are seated separately at window seats, tended to by their mother, storing toys into the upper compartment, the kids, david and karen, playing with their latest nintendo game. a priest and two greek orphans, boys, seven and eight, take their seats in the center section, directly across from the two american children. the children study each other closely, the orphans dressed in shorts and knee socks, the americans in reeboks, baggy pants and t-shirts. the little girl seems totally mesmerized by the two. she smiles warmly at them.
so, how does it feel, now that it's really happening?
not yet. still got the car to pay off, helping my brother out, the usual.  i'll get around to it.
okay, we'll talk.
judy's been down there for four hours. they wouldn't have left her there alone. something's wrong.
i destroyed it. ali stands back, scrutinizing fran.
the toilet.
to protect the passengers.
what about the passengers? they've had nothing to eat or drink.
yes. thank you. i'll have to use the elevator. carefully she turns and opens the elevator door. as she steps inside, ali stops her, motioning for one of the terrorist guards to accompany her.
do what you want, i'm going to cover her body.
i'm sorry. it fell when i opened the cabinet. i was getting some coffee filters.
they're.  very scared, but under the circumstances doing well. ali's eyes, probing, searching.
no. they just want this to be over with.
that would be very kind.
i believe you're next, sir. the air marshal, early 30s, mustache, dark hair, looks up, puzzled.
the bathrooms. you're next. something in her eyes.
razor blades.  she turns to the passenger across the aisle, leaving the marshal bewildered over her phrase as he heads down the aisle.
i.  thought the phone rang. i'm sorry. it's just habit. he stares at her and then hangs up the phone.
think.  she looks around her, focusing on a rack of magazines. we hold on fran's face.
of course. i'll get you some water. the woman fumbles with the vial, her hands trembling.
i'll get it. fran kneels to the floor to help. the guard moves in, prodding her with his weapon.
it's all right. i'm just getting her pills.
i'll be right back with your water. the man at the window follows their movement and then carefully removes the computer, hiding it between his body and the window bulkhead.
what do you want me to do?
fran. by the way, you've got a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
i'll be up front. grant accepts the case, dropping into a seat. he opens it to reveal a satellite communications unit, containing a scrambler telephone, computer keyboard and screen. grant turns it on, typing in an access code. on the screen a message appears: executive decision. grant, remembering, reaches in his pocket, retrieving the mag-code strip. he inserts it into the computer. a new message appears: have prepared bon voyage for jaffa. cousin reggie. grant hits the enter key, the following appearing: executive decision ready. code key access: 04973. wildfire-1. beside him, the gentle bleep of the telephone is heard. he lifts the handset from the black case.