[MD1, 2:25PM, flight 313]

[ Key in hand, Kate returned to the team a moment later. "Here's the deal,"
she told them, keeping her voice low so as not to alarm the other
passengers. "We've got an incapacitated pilot, an inexperienced
co-pilot-cum-hijacker who's threatening to crash the plane if anyone tries
to stop him, one emotionally distraught stewardess, and another stewardess
being held captive in the cockpit. First order of business, Dinah and
Newt, I want you to find out if there's a doctor on board, and while you're
at it, you might discreetly inquire if there's anyone who's qualified to
fly this thing. ]

Dinah glared at Kate. 'This could be real bad' she thought 'No room for gung-ho in such a situation, we're going straight to a bloodshed.' "Nu. I'll do my best.", she only said.

She and Newt headed to the back. If there were any tsores with the hi-jacker, they'd not be shot in the back, at least. The plane was a mess with all those terrified commuters. She understood the reason why they could panic, still she didn't like it. It would be a pain to seek someone still able to do anything quietly. A medic, if only there was one, shouldn't be too hard to find, anyway. Dinah gave a quick look around. Mostly men, the disgusting white-collar go-getter type. Even if there was a doctor among them, she wasn't willing to ask any of those. She started to look for more classy women, or men for what it mattered.

Prescott, on his side, was quite funny to look at. The way this nerdy guy went from seat to seat... It wouldn't have made any difference if he had been trying to sell vacuum-cleaners. 'Oy, someone he might find this way... maybe' However, in minutes, he was heading to the cabin with another man. 'Is that a pilot or a medic? 'tvould have harmed him to take a minute to tell me?' she kvetched.

She continued scanning those terrified, or, for the least conscious, groggy, faces. Then she realized that a most dignified old man was staring at her with an amused and cocksure look, and had probably been watching her ploy for a while. This one could help, if he wasn't an accomplice. She realized the rest of the group were now all near the cabin, and ready to make their move. 'Oy... better be cautious. I'm on my own.', she thought. She had heard so many stories from her great-uncle when she was a child, and knew how he had to "retire" in the 50s. It wasn't the same, anyway. It had nothing to do with terrorism. Yet, the hi-jacker could have concealed some firepower.

Dinah settled behind a seat. She quickly unloaded the clip from her Sig and replaced the top round by another, with an odd-looking bullet, she had taken from an assortment she kept in her handbag. She emptied the chamber and reloaded the whole thing. Though she hoped she wouldn't need it, that would be sufficient for some troubleshooting. She walked up the alley toward the old gentleman. He had anticipated her move and stood up. She squeezed the grip of her gun. "Captain Walter Arroyo, at your service." He was obviously playing with her nerves.

"-Air Force?
-Navy. Retired, but it will be a pleasure to help a nice bunch of feebs, my little lady.
-Would you be able to pilot this plane? or to treat a wound?
-If you've got the gear, I can do some stitching, yes."


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