His voice hung in the air like a challenge, but the hijackers didn't hesitate. The woman's sharp eyes glinted with anger, and the bearded hijacker's hand tightened around his gun. They exchanged a quick glance before the bearded man barked out, "No one moves! Try anything, and you'll all die, you hear me? Anyone who dares to move, I'll make sure you never see your family again!"
The woman sneered, her lips curling in disdain. "Don't listen to him," she hissed, her voice cold as she aimed her weapon around the cabin, scanning for any sign of defiance. "You're gambling with your lives. If you're stupid enough to act, we'll make sure the rest of you never have a chance. Don't even think about trying anything."
The tension in the cabin became suffocating. Passengers looked at each other, caught between fear and the faintest glimmer of hope.
But Lucas wasn't done. He shifted slightly, balancing himself on one knee while gripping the gun tightly in both hands. He continued, louder this time, trying to reach them all. "Don't listen to them. Who knows what will happen to us if we wait for them to decide our fate? It's just like gambling. Do you want to rely on a chance of survival, or do you want to fight for it? If we defeat them, we all get out of here.
"Trust me, think about it—how much respect will you earn if you defeat them? You'll be famous, people will talk about you. Not to mention, the government will reward you with a lot of money for your bravery. This could be your chance to change your life, to make something of yourself. You'll be remembered, not just as a passenger on this flight, but as someone who stood up and fought back. Heroes."
At that moment, the bearded hijacker raised his voice, shaking with the threat of violence. "I said don't move! Think about your families—your lives! You think you can win? You think you can beat us?"
The air became thick with fear. Every eye in the cabin was wide, faces pale, and many were shaking with dread. The passengers had heard the warning and saw the gun raised, but some couldn't ignore the small flicker of hope Lucas had ignited.
Some passengers wanted to fight. The fire in their eyes showed they were ready to act, but the fear was stronger, freezing them in place. They weren't poor, they didn't have the desperation of those who lived on the edge. They had lives, families, places to go. They didn't want to risk it all for a chance of survival, especially when they knew so many other people in the world couldn't even afford a plane ticket.
A few kept their heads down, trying to blend in. They were thinking of the bigger picture—their homes, their jobs, their families back home. They didn't want to sacrifice everything just because of one fight.
But there were still a few who looked to Lucas, uncertainty and fear battling with the small hope he had given them.
----
**When Lucas attacked one of the hijackers…**
The blonde flight attendant, wearing a neat navy-blue uniform with a white scarf tied at her neck, had been standing near the front of the cabin, observing the chaos unfold. She was in her early thirties, her slim figure moving silently. Her smooth face, lightly brushed with makeup, was pale as she saw Lucas charge at the hijacker.
As the first gunshot rang out, she realized it was her chance. Keeping her movements subtle, she slipped down the narrow aisle toward the door leading to the pilot's area.
Her black heels made faint clicking sounds on the floor as she moved, her breathing shallow. She glanced back quickly, ensuring no one was watching her. The two other hijackers were focused entirely on Lucas, their guns pointed in his direction.
The door to the pilot's area was metal with a smooth gray finish, designed to withstand forced entry. It had a small keypad on the side and a sliding lock at the top. The flight attendant reached for the keypad, her fingers trembling slightly, and entered the emergency override code. The lock clicked softly, and she slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.
Once inside, she slid the bolt lock at the top, hearing the faint scrap of metal as it clicked into place. Her chest heaved as she leaned against the door for a moment, her mind racing.
---
**Inside the Pilot's Area**
The pilot's cabin was compact, filled with buttons, levers, and screens glowing faintly in the dim light. Two seats sat side by side, with the larger seat on the left occupied by the captain, a man in his fifties with short gray hair and a thick mustache. He wore a crisp white shirt with black shoulder epaulets, the golden stripes on them marking his rank. His calm gray eyes focused sharply on her as she entered.
The co-pilot, a younger man in his thirties, sat in the other seat. His dark brown hair was neatly combed, and his face was clean-shaven with sharp features. He wore a matching uniform, the faint creases on his shirt suggesting he'd been seated for hours.
The captain turned in his seat, watching as the air hostess locked the door and leaned against it, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her blonde hair, usually neat and tied back in a bun, had a few loose strands framing her pale face. Her wide blue eyes looked shaken, and her trembling hands clung to the back of a chair for support.
The captain frowned, his calm voice tinged with concern. "What's going on? Why are you inside and locking the door?"
The air hostess took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Terrorists," she said, her voice shaky but clear. "There are three of them. They have guns."
The co-pilot, sitting to the side, turned sharply. His brown eyes widened, and he leaned forward slightly in his seat. "Three terrorists? Armed?"
"Yes," she nodded quickly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. "I was near the front when I saw one of the passengers attack them. He grabbed him, and there was a struggle. Then I heard a gunshot. When I looked back, that hijacker wasn't there anymore. He must've been killed, else he'd be standing tall and in control if he wasn't dead."
The captain's jaw tightened, his gaze steady as he listened carefully.
"But then," she continued, her voice rising slightly as she spoke faster, "the other two hijackers started shooting. The whole cabin was in chaos—people were screaming, ducking for cover. I couldn't see much, so I ran as fast as I could to get here while they were distracted."
The captain leaned back slightly, rubbing his chin in thought. His weathered face remained calm, but there was a flicker of tension in his gray eyes. "If one of them is already down, do you think the others can be stopped?"