Business class was full today. Full of suits and agendas. The relentless tapping sound of laptop keyboards. Everyone occasionally checking their watches in anticipation, or dread, of when they can turn their blackberry on.
But the man in F3 sat in silence, sipping his beer out of the plastic cup. He wasn’t writing an email or preparing a presentation. In the compartment over his seat was his carry-on. In fact, it was his only luggage.
A delivery run for the boss back east. Best to transport it this way, so that no one suspects. He adjusted his tie and took another sip of his beer.
Suddenly, it hit. Not turbulence…much worse. Screams filled the cabin as the plane rolled to the right. He caught a glimpse of the wing, now separated from the fuselage, falling in a fireball to the ground.
The plane split and the air started to rush around like a hurricane. People were pulled out of the plane and fell to their deaths. He looked up in shock and noticed the overhead compartment was open.