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Danny Leung was having a very rough day. Not only had he missed his first flight, due to a mix up at the ticket counter, he had just received word that the contact he was supposed to meet with was found hanging from a hook in a meat locker in an L.A supermarket. Some people would have called it karma; he just thought it was shitty luck.

It looked like he had made the trip to America for nothing. He balled up his fist a little but maintained his cool. He was on an airline, after all. His superior had told him to take a day or two to sight-see before coming home.

"Smoke?" the man beside him offered. "Looks like you could use one."

Danny looked at what he presumed was an American, spiky hair, a pure black t-shirt that had a top view picture of a turntable on it. He reluctantly reached for a smoke from the package of sticks.

The stranger offered his lit cigarette as a lighter. Danny lit the cigarette and felt the nicotine do its work.

"I thought these were banned?" Danny asked after taking a puff. 

The stranger chuckled. "That they are, my friend. But don't tell the flight attendant that."

The fellow had an air of confidence about him, something sure and cocky but in a friendly sort of way. Danny took another puff. He noticed the fellow looking at his watch.

"You got someone waiting for you at the airport?" he asked the stranger.

"Not exactly," the man said. "Just that in two minutes from now the shit is going to hit the fan."

"How so?" Danny asked, wondering if this fellow was pulling his leg or not.

"See that stewardess there?" The fellow pointed at the blonde down the aisle and said matter-of-factly,  "She's about to pull out a uzi from the cart and head to the cockpit. Where she's planning on taking control of the plane. And we're here to make sure that she doesn't."