Jones wondered if she should risk combat. Was this woman crazy enough to actually shoot someone? Judging by the lifeless copilot, she was.
"Hey, Hey, Let's be civil," Jones's voice faltered.
"Be civil about what, AGENT Jones?" Replied the woman.
"Listen, killing that pilot would be suicidal. He's the only one on this plane that can fly it," Susan said, carefully.
"You can fly it. I've done my homework on you two," the woman replied.
"Who are you?" Susan ask. 'Distract her, Distract her,' The redheaded agent thought.
"My name is none of your business. I was hired to kill your partner, Alexander Arlington, and you," The woman's gun got closer to the pilot's head.
"Who hired you?" Susan demanded.
"Several people are out to kill you since you've taken this mission," The woman was baiting Susan, trying to confuse her.
Susan Jones wasn't going to fall for it.
Suddenly, a steel door between the cockpit and first class slammed shut behind Jones's back.
Alex appeared on the windshield, pressed against it. For a while, he tried to smash it in, and then he removed a Plexiglas cutter from his belt with some difficulty. Finally, he twirled through the cockpit, almost ramming into the wall.
As he kicked the gun out of the deranged stewardess's hands as he flew in.
"What took you so long?" Susan demanded, almost jokingly.
"Well, you know, climbing along the bottom of a plane that is flying at top speed takes a bit of time," Alex replied, grabbing the stewardess by the arm, and she promptly flipped him upside down.
"Take the controls!" Alex yelled as Susan noticed that the real pilot had fainted.
Steering, with one hand, and getting the pilot out the seat with the other, Susan realized that the air pressure in the cockpit was dropping.
Jones's skin was drawing to her skull by the wind rushing toward her from the hole Alex had made.
Her eyeballs felt numb as she dug in her pocket, taking out two small mask that helped with breathing.
She tossed one to Alex, not having time to look and see if he caught it.
For now, she just concentrated on flying the plane.
"Washington coming up, Jones," Alex reminded, his voice back to the whisper.
"This is flight 1212M requesting permission to make an emergency landing," Jones said into the speaker.
She didn't wait for an answer, but set the plane down expertly.
When she turned around, Alex had the stewardess/assassian knocked out on the floor, and the real pilot was coming to.
Hour s later, after extreme security precautions, Susan and Alex finally climbed out of the cockpit.
Their contact was waiting. He sized them up pretty quickly. Susan Jones's jacked was unbuttoned, and her silk shirt was ripped, as was her skirt. Her stockings had ruins all over them, and her shoes weren't even recognizable with one of the heels broken off and the other greatly shortened.
Alex's white-blond hair was a mess, his lip swollen and his nose was bloody. His right eye was starting to swell, and there was a long slash from his shoulder to his waist that was bleeding, and that was just his body.
His black jacket was completely gone, and most of his shirt was soaked with blood.
The pair, to put it gently, looked a little rougher for wear than they had when they left New York.
"You look just like we expected you to. Now, come on, before the media arrives," The contact gestured for them to fallow him.