He looked up from his clipboard when the door opened. The shipment was full and ready to go out…. He breathed deeply when he looked up and saw her, just calm down.

Her long curly blonde hair bounced as she walked. She was dressed in a short black dress and everything fit – perfectly… So perfectly… Thank you, God, perfectly…

She reached his counter – her lips were full… "Wel-come," his voice cracked embarrassingly. "Welcome to World Wide Cargo Shipping," he was blushing and he knew it, "How can I help you?"

She set her purse on the counter and took off her trendy sunglasses. Her eyes were puffy. "Hi, Bill," she said weakly as she looked at his nametag. "I have a – a – package," she almost started crying when she said the word package.

"Ok, where is your package going?" he asked. Why would a beautiful girl like that be crying?

"It needs to be on your flight number N-1138," she pulled a tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes.

How did she know what flight number…? "Ms, that flight is full, I'm sorry," he said sincerely. He really did want to help her, but…

She let a single tear roll down her flawless face. "It has to be on that flight," she interrupted, "to be there in time."

"That flight leaves in an hour," he said with apology in his voice.

"You don't understand," she said. "That package," she stuttered at the word package again, "is my Great Aunt Esther." She started crying.

Bill held up a hand like that would stop the tears. "Is there something that I can do for you?" he was trying to be supportive.

"You can get her on that plane," she said softly through a fountain tears. "Please, Bill," she put her hand on his, "It would mean so much to me." She batted her dampened eyelashes at him.

"You know, I think I'm beginning to enjoy this," he said quietly to the back of her head.

"That's right, keep talking," Rhone said, "Those air holes aren't exactly huge, you know."

"Listen, if this is the last thing I do, I need to at least pretend that it could turn into something sexual," Thaxx said. …Dear Penthouse, I was sealed in a coffin shaped shipping container when…

The arm he was laying on had fallen asleep a long time ago and was getting really sore, but she hadn't complained so he wasn't going to. How long had they been in here? …He wasn't really claustrophobic, but this was a little too much like a coffin for his taste – like being buried alive.

"The last thing you do? If I recall, you have the easy part," she said.

"I'm talking about when I get back," he said. If I get back, he thought. Defying Bishop was not a wise choice. But Griffin was his fr— a valuable asset to the team. …This girl definitely had a pair. He hadn't known her for long, but he admired that.

There was a double beep. They both knew it was from his watch. "That's our signal," Thaxx stated the obvious.

Each was lying on their right side, so they pushed their left hands against the lid of the crate. It wasn't really moving. If they had nailed this thing down too much, this was going to be a real short trip – well, short in regards to the objective. No, that isn't an option Rhone told herself. She pushed as hard as she could.

The pilot gazed up at his overhead panel and pushed the glowing button. He adjusted his head set and gave a brief glance to this co-pilot, "You see that Sharks game on Sunday?" They were the only two people on this plane, and he had never flown with this co-pilot – all guys liked to talk about sports.

"Yeah, Robbins can really move," the co-pilot said absently as he glanced at one of the gages. He didn't even like football, but it was mandatory male conversation. He actually took time out to watch the games because at any point some random guy could come up to you and give you a pop quiz. And if you said you didn't like football, they looked at you like you had a third nostril or something.

Well, if he liked sports, he was obviously a good guy. "Did you see the cheerleaders got new uniforms?" the pilot asked with a faint smile.

"I would say they got new underwear, but that's just me," both pilot and co-pilot snapped their heads around in shock at hearing a third voice – a female voice. She was dressed in all black, sunglasses, and well, the most important part about her was the hand gun she had aimed at them. There was a man behind her, also with a gun.

Each man instinctively put their hands over their heads in surrender. This wasn't a passenger plane; there was nothing to be a hero over. So some guy on the other side of the world didn't get his book on deck building before the weekend, too bad.

She flicked the barrel of the gun upward, implying that they should stand. "Who's going to fly the plane?" the pilot asked. He was slightly worried about that.

The man behind the woman stepped around her, "Thaxx Airlines, come fly the unfriendly skies."

The woman kept her gun trained on the pilots as the man took his position in the captain's chair. She held up two pairs of handcuffs and said, "Where if the restraints aren't too tight, you get a full refund – or a bullet in your brain. …Maybe some frequent flyer miles – we haven't quite worked out all the details yet."

The pilots were silent – awkwardly silent. She felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

He put his right hand over his head, used his left hand for balance beneath him, and pulled with his arms – pushed with his legs. His body scrapped across the ground.

He hadn't been out here for that long – well, by being trapped in the desert standards he had been. The landing was rough and he didn't have any supplies. The plane was on fire and he didn't have time to get anything. So he was alone, pulling himself across the desert.

…I'm never going to see her again… It's so hot… What good would crawling do anyway? How far could I get…? She had the greatest laugh… It's so bright… That pain in his left side was making him see colors where he knew there weren't any… Her skin was so soft… I'm thirsty… I'm never going to see her again…

He stopped crawling.

The sun seemed less bright on his back. Maybe there was finally a cloud. Then he felt it – someone turned him over. He opened his eyes and was assaulted by light. He squinted his eyes so they were just slits. There was a dark spot in the middle standing over him. The light made it seem like God himself was casting his approval over its darkness.

He opened his eyes a little more, it was a woman. He had only seen this woman from afar before, but he knew her. "Why are you…?" he started but felt water on his lips and completely forgot about her for a moment. It had never tasted so good. Not even when….

"You're hurt," she said, "Shut up."

He finished the water and rested for a moment. He leaned on his right elbow and looked around. Nothing. Just her. "Where is every one – Bishop – Tally?" he sounded as though he had just been roused from a deep sleep.

She didn't say anything and stood from her kneeling position. She took a step toward his feet. He followed her with his eyes, there was a wadded up cloth there – a parachute. He sat for a moment. …Shit… He lowered his head slowly back to the ground. What kind of rescue was this? She must be – unbalanced…