As Flight 817 took off from Los Angeles International Airport on its way to Sydney, the sky was ablaze with red and gold hues. Ethan Cross, a U.S. Marshal known for remaining composed under duress, was one of the travellers. His task was simple: transport well-known inmate Jack Monroe, a former CIA operative who was charged with selling secret intelligence to foreign governments. Jack, sitting next to Ethan in handcuffs, smiled wryly.
“Long flight,” Jack said, his voice silky but with an unintelligible undertone. “Are you certain you don’t want to slightly loosen these cuffs?”
Ethan said, “I’ve read your file, Monroe,” with calm, icy eyes. Charming your way out of this one is not an option.
The passengers settled into their routines as the jet flew into the night. Unaware of the tension in row 17, families, business travellers, and flight attendants hurried about. Peace, however, was short-lived.
The lights flickered two hours into the flight. Over the intercom, a chilly voice said, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is a takeover.” Stay composed so that nobody is harmed.
Three masked, armed, and lethal hijackers appeared, causing panic. Everyone was told to take their seats by the tall, distorted-voiced lead hijacker. Jack’s voice prevented Ethan from reaching for his weapon.
“Be careful, Marshal. “People die when you start something,” Jack remarked, his eyes piercing. “You’ll require my assistance.”
Ethan paused. Although Jack was dangerous, the administration who wanted him imprisoned had also trained him. In an instant, Ethan decided to remove one of Jack’s handcuffs while leaving the other fastened to his own wrist.
Ethan gave the order, “We move together.” Jack grinned and said, “Teamwork. How comfortable.
Renowned mercenary Viktor Kade, the commander of the hijackers, spoke once more. “Jack Monroe is the only thing we desire. Turn him over, and we’ll land without incident. If you refuse, we will begin to murder travellers.
The blood in Ethan ran cold. He said, “They’re not here for the plane.” “They are available to you.”
Jack’s face grew serious. It appears like my history has caught up with me. I have a long history with Viktor—let’s just say I blew a deal with him.
Ethan’s gut told him to turn Jack in. However, something wasn’t quite right. He remarked, “They wouldn’t need a plane full of hostages if they wanted you dead.” “They need you to be alive.”
Abruptly, a hijacker moved to put a passenger to death. Ethan shot without thinking. As a shootout broke out, the jet rocked with confusion. Jack fought with him, still handcuffed to Ethan, swift, accurate, and deadly.
They were able to lock the hijackers out by securing the back cabin. The horrified flight attendant, Maya, stepped forward as the passengers flinched. She trembled as she said, “They’re trying to break into the cockpit, but it’s locked.”
Ethan looked at Jack. “You were a member of the CIA.” Their playbook is well known to you. How can we prevent them?
Jack stopped grinning. “The transponder.” We disappear from radar if they turn it off. They’ll land this bird in a far-off place and disappear with me. We must now make it to the avionics bay.
Handcuffed together, they used Ethan’s tactical expertise and Jack’s spy experience to battle past opposition and turbulence. Jack disclosed something terrifying along the way: Viktor wanted the encryption key that Jack had taken, which could allow foreign adversaries to access American defence networks, and he wasn’t simply seeking retribution.
When they arrived at the avionics bay, Viktor was already there. He pointed his rifle and hissed, “Montane, end of the queue.”
Jack spoke steadily and in a quiet voice. “Viktor, you can kill me, but you won’t ever get the key.”
Viktor grinned. “I’ve got it already.” He displayed a gadget that had been stolen during the altercation: Jack’s biometric code. “All I need now is for you to leave.”
Viktor’s weapon was knocked away as Ethan lunged in that single second. There was a vicious altercation. Jack choked a hijacker unconscious with the cuff chain while still attached to Ethan. At last, Ethan blasted the control panel and disarmed Viktor, cutting off the hijackers’ remote access.
As the pilots declared they had regained control after being released from their lockdown protocol, the door of the cockpit exploded open. Fighter jets were leading them to safety as red and blue lights flickered through the windows.
Ethan glanced to Jack as the jet touched down in the middle of a crowd of FBI officers. “The secret. Give it to me.
For once, Jack’s eyes softened. Marshal, I never intended to sell it. To protect it from men like Viktor, I stole it.
Ethan nodded, caught between instinct and duty. “I think you’re real. However, you remain under arrest.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Jack said with a laugh.
The handcuffs snapped back into position. The world witnessed a hero in Ethan Cross and a mystery in Jack Monroe as the sun rose and illuminated the tarmac.
However, one thing was for sure: everything had altered because of this flight and its risks.
