The hijacker whipped around to face them, but before he could react, the FBI agent smashed his fist into the terrorist’s jaw. The man’s head lolled to the side. The agent grabbed a set of handcuffs from his back pocket and slapped them on the criminal.
“Do you know how to fly this thing?” the agent asked with a steady voice.
Mickey turned toward the cabin while the man sat down in the captain’s chair. A few passengers stood in the tiny spaces in front of their seats while others sat still as statues. Chaos reigned, but she didn’t have time to deal with them. Passengers were zeroing in on her; she held her hand up to stop approaching do-gooders.
She ran into the bathroom and found Captain Fuller hunched over on the floor. The bloodstained knife lay on the ground andthe captain had both hands pressed against his wound. Thick blood oozed between his fingers. Mickey pressed her hand to her mouth to block out the overpowering metallic scent of blood.
Captain Fuller lifted his head to look at her. A grimace contorted the already deep lines of his face into small ravines. Sweat trickled down his brow. “Help.”
“Do we have a doctor on board?” she yelled behind her and grabbed paper towels from overhead. She fell to her knees to press them against his side. She lifted his hands and placed them on the towels. A tendril of hair fell across her face and she used the back of her hand to sweep it behind her ear. “I’ll be right back.”
Scrambling to her feet, she stepped out of the bathroom and back into the narrow aisle of the cabin. The plane evened out. At least the mystery FBI agent could keep the aircraft steady. They still needed someone to land the damn thing. She scanned the terrified passengers and her gaze landed on the other two flight attendants rushing around trying to reassure everyone.
Mickey picked up the mouthpiece for the intercom and cleared her throat. “If there is a doctor on board, please come to the front of the plane.”
A hundred worried voices assaulted her with a hundred different questions. Mickey took a deep breath and held up a hand, trying to quiet them. “I know everyone is scared, and I don’t have any answers for you right now. But I have a badly injured man in need of assistance. Please, is there anyone who can help him?”
A young blond woman with a top knot and leggings stood up and walked toward her. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor and grabbed onto each seat as she passed by to keep her balance. She stopped in front of Mickey. The steel behind her green eyes stood in stark contrast to her timid body language.
“I’m in my second year of med school. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to help, but I’ll try.”
“You’ll be great.”
Mickey turned toward the bathroom with the girl at her heels. With no hesitation, the girl dropped to her knees and unbuttoned Captain Fuller’s shirt to get a better look at the wound.
“Do you need anything?” Mickey asked.
“A medical kit if you have it.”
Mickey closed her fingers around the hard metal of the keys in her skirt. Yanking them out, she strode to the locked cabinets that lined the wall.
“What can I do?” Allison, her fellow flight attendant, asked as she stepped beside Mickey. The slight tremor in her voice gave away the fear she hid behind her locked jaw and hard eyes.
Mickey handed her the keys. “Help with the captain while I check the flight deck. We need to land fast. I don’t think we can do that without him.”
“What about Bill?”
The image of the co-pilot slumped over the control panel flittered in her mind and she winced. “I don’t know, but it didn’t look good. Now get the med kit to the bathroom.”
Turning the small corner, Mickey stepped into the flight deck. The man who’d hijacked the plane sat huddled on the floor behind the captain’s chair with his hands handcuffed behind his back and his ankles tied together with a zip tie. His chin rested on his chest. The man who held everyone’s fate in his hands turned and acknowledged her before facing the wide window that looked out to the sky.
“Have you checked the co-pilot? Is he dead?” She should see for herself, but lead weighed down her feet and she couldn’t move.
“He’s breathing. We need to land. How’s the captain?”
“A med student is looking at him now.” She twisted her hands in front of her. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Is he conscious?”
“Yes.”
“Then he can help me get this damn thing on the ground. I’ve radioed for help, and we can touch down in Atlanta. I need him in here fast.”
Mickey’s mouth fell open and she stared at the clean-shaven neck and the tousled dark blond hair in front of her. A shiver raced up her spine. They weren’t out of the woods yet.
Hard gray eyes turned to her. “Go get him. Now.”
His deep voice shook some sense into her. She stepped out of the flight deck and turned to look in the bathroom. She glanced past Allison, who stood in the doorway, and heaved a sigh of relief. The captain sat a little straighter on the cramped floor. White, wiry hairs curled in a matted mess on his bare chest and a flush brought some color to his cheeks. His shirt lay in a heap by his side.
