Movies are bullshit. Jim thought as the door swung open. Isn’t there supposed to be a chase across the runway or something?

A 50 -something guy in a grey suit stepped onto the plane and whispered something into the flight attendant’s ear. She gestured down the aisle in a way that couldn’t be good.

Jim thought about looking away, but thought that might be even more suspicious since everyone else was staring. He tucked the backpack further under the seat with his foot and tried not to sweat.

The man held up a manila folder he had in his hand, opened it, and studied whatever was on the second page. Then, his eyes darted up and focused. Eyes back to the paper. Back at me.

The handcuffs were cold. Too tight. They hurt. I locked eyes with the guy in the tie again. No stupid smile this time. I thought as the Air Marshall hauled me down the aisle.

“Jim Loggins, you are under arrest for….....” the suit was jabbering.

It was a long, uncomfortable walk through the terminal.