Part 2


Josiah watched as Bill ran a hand through his short-cropped brown hair and took a deep breath to calm himself. It was evident that the steward had his hands full with the now drunken passenger.

"Mr. Wood, please settle down." Bill was straining to keep his voice firm and polite but Josiah could tell that the man was losing his patience.

"FUI." He smiled even through the seriousness of the alert. ' "Flying under the influence," leave it to Buck to have come up with a warning like that.' He mused. Still focused on the inebriated passenger, it took Josiah a second to interpret what he was hearing from JD's section of the plane. Before he could react, a man sitting six rows in front of him jumped to his feet and began shouting for everyone to get down.

The assailant's dark eyes flashed angrily as he pointed his weapon back and forth. A lady somewhere behind Josiah screamed and the weapon was aimed in his direction.

"Shut up, I say! Heads down!" The man shouted in English, then repeated the order again in what Josiah thought was Arabic.

Taking a calming breath, Josiah leaned forward in his seat, following orders. "Confirm one," he whispered.

"What?" The young man next to him asked, obviously trying to keep himself from hyperventilating.

Josiah smiled faintly. "Just do what they say and keep your head down."

The boy nodded, his blue eyes locking with Josiah's a moment before he buried his head in his arms and focused on the floor.

Vin almost jumped out of his seat when he heard the shouting start but the dark haired man from two seats in front of him stood up and pointed a semi-automatic at him, effectively quelling Vin's instinctual reaction.

He heard Josiah's soft confirmation and whispered his own, as he ducked his head to avoid eye contact. The man next to him had wrapped his arms protectively around his whimpering girlfriend. "Just stay down and quiet," Vin told them.

Across the aisle from him another woman was approaching hysterics. Her pre-teen daughter was trying vainly to hold her mother down in her seat. Tears rolled down the young girl's face as she quietly pleaded for her mother to be quiet.

"Calm down, lady!" Vin reached across the aisle and grabbed the woman's other arm just as she tried to stand and yanked her roughly back into her seat. "You've got to calm down now," he ordered.

He glanced back up at the hijacker in time to see the butt of a weapon coming at him. Automatically, Vin turned his head and rolled with the hit. He let out a soft groan as the force of the blow sent him back against the couple in his own row. Darkness encroached and he could faintly hear the woman's screams intensify as the terrorist began to beat her. He felt hands holding him upright. "You okay, Mister?" whispered frantically into one ear while Chris' voice demanded a response in the other.

"Vin!" Chris hissed as loudly as he dared. "Report!" he ordered. He could still hear a woman screaming and had almost felt the impact when Vin had been hit.

Glancing around while his position still hid him from any assailants, he tried to reassure passengers around him. "Just stay down and do what you're told."

He heard Buck confirm and warn that one hijacker was headed his way and quickly turned around in his seat, ducking his head. "Vin," he tried again, this time to be rewarded by a faint, " 'm fine." Tanner's voice was strained and hushed and Chris realized that the woman's screams had finally stopped.

He tensed as a man stormed past him, shouting and striking out at random passengers as he commanded them to stay down. Larabee tilted his head up just enough to be able to see what was going on. The hijacker entered the galley and a moment later was dragging Julie out of the small kitchen. Violently he shoved the woman down onto the floor in the middle of the aisle.

"Stay down," he ordered, poking Julie with the barrel of his gun, then he turned and moved forward into the next section of the plane.

Careful to remain seated and cowering, Julie slid backwards the few feet until she was next to Chris' seat. "What do we do?" she asked, keeping her head down and not looking at him.

"Whatever they tell you to," Chris answered, trying to process the screams and cries coming from all over the plane. He closed his eyes at the sound of the first gunshot. "Stand down," he ordered the team. "Stand down."

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Buck swore and dropped his laptop onto the floor, kicking it under the seat in front of him. "Get down." He commanded harshly to Korine and Daniel only a moment before the noise erupted around them. Instantly, a man was standing at the front of their cabin waving a weapon around and shouting at everyone to stay down.

"How did you know?" Korine tried to ask but Daniel and Buck both grabbed her and pushed her head down to her knees.

"Shut up." Buck didn't mean to sound so heartless but he was straining over the chaos to hear anything from JD. He listened to Josiah confirm a hijacker in his section and winced at Vin's altercation with another hijacker. He frowned when Tanner didn't immediately answer Chris.

'Come on, JD,' he thought as he listened for any sound from his roommate. He could hear the demands for someone to open the cockpit door and knew that the hijackers couldn't be very far from JD if he could hear them that clearly. Glancing up for another quick check the location of the hijacker in his part of the plane, Buck saw him head towards Chris' area.

"Incoming, Chris," he warned. Another shout from behind him prevented Buck from daring to lean out into the aisle and try to check on Chris or Vin visually.

Forcing himself to stay put when he heard the gunshot, followed quickly by Chris' order to stand down. "Damn it!" Buck growled as he wiped a hand over his face. He felt like he'd lost the ability to breathe until he heard JD's barely audible whisper. "Confirm two."

"What the hell is going on with you?" Buck flinched at Korine's sharp question --her expression a cross between fear and anger. "Who are you?" she asked.

Buck could only stare at her; unable to fathom that in the middle of a hijacking she was actually risking drawing attention to them just to ask him such a question.

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Nathan heard the muffled shouting and JD's panicked curse only a moment before the man he'd labeled as an 'S-one' stood up and began waving his weapon menacingly at the passengers around him. Shouting in fractured English the terrorist commanded everyone to keep their heads down. He hurried up and down the aisle pushing one passenger after another into compliance.

Jackson started to duck his head when he realized that Mrs. Swertfager was still rambling on about ingrown toenails. Quickly he clamped one hand over her mouth and bent her forward over her legs, as far as he could without hurting her. He held her there until the hijacker had passed by them.

"Hush now!" he whispered emphatically. Once he was sure the elderly lady was going to stay quiet, he released her and turned his attention to monitoring what was happening around him. "Confirm one," he whispered, his eyes widening as another heavily armed man entered the cabin. "Add one more," he amended. "Coming your way, Ezra," he warned as the hijackers finished their brief conference and one moved on towards first class.

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Trapped at the front of the plane, Ezra listened anxiously as the confusion of the takeover intensified through the aircraft. Helpless to do anything but listen as his teammates reported in, he ran through possible scenarios of action he might succeed in taking on his own. He was just about to get out of his seat when he heard the gun shot and Chris' order to stand down. Slumping into his seat, he caught Rogers' gaze as panicked murmuring spread through out their cabin.

"Watch my back," Rogers ordered as he glanced towards the expandable doors separating first class from the rest of the plane.

"No." Ezra shook his head. "Stay where you are, Rogers."

Rogers' eyes widened with disbelief. "Do you know what they'll do to me if they find out I'm NSA?" he asked. "Do you care?" he added angrily.

"Sit down and shut up and they'll never know," Ezra's accent sharpened. "Trust me," he implored.

"Like hell." Rogers began to rise from his seat when the armed hijacker bursting through the flimsy plastic door cut off his action. Shouting angrily and gesturing with his weapon, the man forced the passengers down in their seats. Quickly he moved to the small open area at the front of the cabin, standing guard less than three feet from Ezra's seat.

Moments later another man entered and the two began conversing in Arabic. Keeping his head down Ezra quietly began to relay information to the rest of the team. "Confirm two," he murmured. "Rashid and Jamil I believe"

"Arab?" Chris asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, sounds like there are six of them." Ezra's voice dropped lower as the man named Rashid stepped closer to him and shouted again for everyone to shut up.

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"Open it!"

"I can't."

JD tried to block out Melanie's pleas with the hijackers as he frantically keyed in commands, programming the laptop to run the communications system on auto. He could hear shouting all over the plane and blinked when he heard Vin get hit. Hearing Nathan confirm, he belated remembered to do the same. He dropped his voice as low as he could to whisper, "Confirm two."

"I said, open it!" the hijacker fired at the passengers, the shot barely skimming past the man who had been talking to JD earlier, and embedded itself into the seat.

JD listened to Chris command them to stand down, and hurriedly tried to finish his programming. He heard Melanie crying, "I can't, I can't," while Ezra named two of the attackers.

A second gunshot rocked the air around him and he looked up in time to see Melanie slide to the floor, blood pooling from a hole in her chest.

"Oh God," he gasped, blinking at the suddenness of the woman's death.

"JD?" Buck's worried voice kicked him back into motion.

"One innocent dead," JD responded curtly, ducking down further in his seat as the hijackers shot their way into the cockpit. "They're in the cockpit," he informed the others.

"Sit tight. Hide the computer," Chris ordered softly.

"I'm on it." JD's fingers flew as he buried the running program under layers of encryption that he and Ezra had set up. Task completed, he flipped the case closed and shoved the computer down onto the floor, then glancing up to check on the other passengers, he froze with the realization that the man who'd just killed Melanie was staring right at him.

JD swallowed hard, his throat suddenly very dry as the hijacker stepped closer to him. Trying to follow the earlier orders, JD dropped his gaze to the floor and tried to scoot further down in his seat. He felt like he was in a sudden cone of silence. Chaos reigned in the background but in the area right around him, in that moment, there was nothing but those malicious black eyes.

He flinched when he felt the barrel of the hijacker's gun scrape against the skin under his chin. The applied pressure forced him to tilt his head up and face the terrorist.

"That?" The man jerked his head towards the black aluminum case, his question clear. JD opened his mouth to answer but not fast enough to appease his captor. The blow to his jaw almost knocked him into the next seat. Angrily JD suppressed the urge to fight back, Chris' order to stand down and the other hijacker reminding him that it wasn't the time. So instead of fighting, he cowered.

"Please," he pleaded

"What is it?" the man asked again, gesturing with his weapon.

"Just a computer, please," JD hated the weakness and panic in his voice and prayed the others would realize he wasn't really this much of a coward.

"Ahh…" The hijacker seemed to be processing the information and for an extra long moment JD feared that the man would investigate but instead, with a sneer, he focused on JD again. "Rich boy," he stated knowingly.

"No." JD's protests were cut off when the terrorist grabbed him by the hair and roughly yanked his head back.

"You with me." The black eyes glittered with anticipation as JD felt himself violently hauled from his seat and shoved towards the cockpit.

"Oh no," Buck moaned into his hands as he listened to the hijacker push his friend around.

"What?" Korine leaned closer, but Buck ignored her.

"Chris?" he implored when he heard another yelp from JD.

"Easy, Buck, he can hold his own," Chris reassured; knowing JD could still hear them.

"Who the hell are you talking to?" Korine's volume rose slightly, invoking another shout for silence from the hijacker guarding their section.

"Shut up!" Buck hissed.

"But…" Korines eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him, her voice lowering again. "You know what's going on don't you?"

Buck shook his head. "I need you to stay quiet and follow directions. I don't have time for you right now," his hushed voice was authoritative. "To keep us all alive you need to just sit there and trust me."

Korine pulled back, her expression slightly shocked. The fear she'd been repressing in lieu of her curiosity became evident as she obediently nodded.

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"Chris?" Vin heard Buck's fear and Chris' calm assurance that JD would be fine. Rubbing his thumb against his bruised temple, he attempted to clear the pain from his head and get a grasp on his bearings.

Ezra had reported that there were only six hijackers. 'Not an impossible mission,' he thought calmly. His head throbbed but he was thankful he'd had the half-second to see the blow coming at him. If he hadn't have turned with it, he was sure he'd still be out of commission. His gaze flickered to the unconscious woman across from him then up at the one hijacker pacing up and down the aisle, promising himself that the time for action would come soon enough.

From JD's Com unit he could plainly hear the hijackers screaming at the pilots to reroute the flight. The Kid had to be right in there with them. Vin supported his aching head in his hands, what would they do if the hijackers decided to search JD? If they found his identification and badge, it would insure an instant death sentence. The shouting continued and Vin listened with fascination as Ezra continued a steady whisper of translation.

"They're demanding the flight go to Libya," Ezra, keeping his head down, monitored the location of the hijacker closest to him by focusing on the man's scuffed and battered military boots. Preemptively, Standish folded his hands in his lap, hoping that if his whispers were noticed at all, Rashid would yell at him for praying and let it go with a warning.

"Claiming to be members of Husam Al Din." He knew the others on the team would recognize the name of the group. Translated as "Sword of Faith" the sect had been behind numerous terrorist incidents in the recent years, under the direction of their leader, the currently incarcerated Imran El Farran. "They want El Farran released immediately."

Ezra heard both Vin and Chris curse. El Farran was in an Israeli prison charged with organizing the bombing of a Jewish elementary school. The casualty count had been over one hundred. The leader was also wanted in suspicion of terrorist attacks and threats in four other countries, including the United States. There was no way any government would even consider letting the man out of prison.

"More names of our current hosts, Naji and Malik. Frequent references to an Ayyad."

"Ayyad Taymullah?" Josiah questioned rhetorically. Another recognizable name, Taymullah was third in command of the Husam Al Din.

Josiah fought off the wave of hopelessness that threatened to crash down on him with Ezra's words. Seven years spent as a CIA counter terrorist specialist ensured his familiarity with groups like Husam Al Din. If he'd had any doubts before, he knew now that the men rampaging through the airplane were prepared to die for their cause, and they had no qualms about taking anyone else's life with them.

Noting that the hijackers were concentrating their attention on the front of the plane and in the cockpit, Josiah took the advantage to carefully do a visual check on the passengers around him. He'd been concerned about the drunken passenger from earlier, but the intensity of the situation had sobered the man up quickly. He now sat subdued, pale and as quiet as the rest of the hostages around him.

"They're spread pretty thin," Josiah murmured as he settled back in his seat. The young man next to him turned his head to the side to watch him, his eyes wide with confusion.

"Need to wait." Chris' voice cut through the sounds from the cockpit. From the muffled voice of the pilot, it sounded like they were informing air traffic control that they were changing course.

"Need a better fix on all of 'em," Vin added. "They're moving around too much."

Josiah nodded, his hands curling into fists at another grunt of pain from JD. He understood the reasons for waiting but that didn't make it any easier.

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JD tried to suppress a moan when the hijacker, referred to by the other one as Hakim, smacked him solidly in the side of the head and then shoved him at the leader.

Ayyad Taymullah gripped JD's neck and pulled the smaller man close to him. His dark brown eyes roamed over JD with pure hatred emanating from their depths. JD struggled to breathe as the grip tightened slightly, leaving him absently wondering if Taymullah's fingers were made out of steel.

"You're with me, boy." Ayyad jerked him roughly through the cockpit door, his grasp moving from the front of JD's neck to the back, as he issued an order to Hakim in Arabic.

"You and me will join the rich folks." Ayyad's smile was frightening and Chris' order to stand down was the only thing that kept him from spinning and stripping the weapon, now bruising his ribs, out of the other man's hands. He wasn't sure what was worse at this point…staying with trigger happy Hakim, or hanging out with the pushy psycho leader.

Stumbling, JD tried to keep his balance on the stairs but he missed the third step from the bottom and ended up sprawled on his face. He grunted painfully as Ayyad pulled him up by his hair and dragged him through the business section and into first class. He searched for Nathan but it was all he could do to keep on his feet as Ayyad consistently pulled him off balance. The soft "oh damn" let him know that Nathan had seen him though.

Suddenly they stopped moving and Ayyad release the grip on his hair, choosing instead to wrap an arm around his throat. The gun moved from his ribs to his temple. It felt crowded in the front of the plane, the four hijackers conferred briefly before two headed toward the back of the plane. JD's gaze darted around the cabin before settling on Ezra. Their eyes met for a moment, reassurance going both ways, before JD looked away, not daring to raise any suspicion from Ayyad.

Suddenly the arm around his neck tightened. The gun pressed brutally against his head and he gasped, fearing that Taymullah had made a connection between him and Ezra. His vision began to blur and though he knew the shouting around him was in English, he was concentrating too hard on breathing to understand what was being said. As everything began to fade to gray he wondered if Chris would ever forgive him for screwing up.

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Ezra had just reported that two hijackers were headed back toward the others and that JD was okay when his eyes met momentarily with JD's. It was a relief to see the young agent was maintaining his calm much better than it had sounded earlier. The anger and frustration in Dunne's eyes betrayed the truth. Ezra would have to remember to commend him on his acting skills.

Out of the corner of his vision, Ezra saw a flash of movement and turned to see Rogers trying to stand up.

"Sit down!" Ayyad yelled, instantly tightening his grip on JD. "Sit down or I kill him!" He jabbed the gun into JD's temple causing his captive to flinch. JD's hands clawed desperately at Taymullah's muscular arm.

Rogers shook his head and raised his arms in a placating gesture. "You don't want to do this," He spoke in a sickeningly soothing voice.

"Shut the hell up, Rogers," Ezra hissed angrily.

"Who?" Chris sounded livid.

"Sit down!" Ayyad screamed again.

"What's going on?" Vin questioned.

"How's JD?" Ezra ignored Buck and the others, blocking them out as Ayyad spun JD around and thrust him backwards. Disoriented, JD stumbled back a couple of steps and swayed as he gasped for breath. Ayyad leveled the gun at Dunne, his face contorted with determined rage.

Launching himself to his feet, Ezra slammed sideways into JD, sending his friend flying out of the aisle and into Rogers. Ezra never heard the weapon go off, but the fire in his side told him without a doubt that Taymullah had pulled the trigger. Spun around by the force of the impact, Ezra found himself face down in his seat for a moment and then he was sliding. He landed on his back, the jolt of the landing evoking a sharp grunt of pain. Stunned, he lay there blinking up at the curved ceiling and listening to Chris' angry whisper, demanding answers.

"What happened? Damn it, Ezra? JD? Somebody tell me what the hell is going on!"

"Fuck," the word was out before Ezra could reconsider. He blinked once at his own misappropriated concern, wondering absently what kind of man worried about sounding like a gentleman when he had a gaping hole in his side.

"Ezra? What the hell happened?" Chris' voice again, slightly distorted but clearly frustrated. "Is JD okay?"

Ezra struggled to move his hand to his left side, biting his bottom lip and pressing down on the wound with as much strength as he could. He felt the warmth of his blood as it oozed between his fingers.

"Ezra?" Chris' voice was sharp and demanding.

"I don't know," Ezra admitted weakly. He was pretty sure JD hadn't been hit; he only remembered hearing one shot, but at the angle he'd landed he couldn't see anything very well.

"Check, damn it." Buck ordered angrily, barely able to stay in his seat as he waited. Reaction to the gunfire echoed through the aircraft -- passengers crying out in fear, their captors shouting for silence and punctuating the orders with fists. All of it becoming background noise as Team 7 focused on their two agents in first class.

Ezra winced, throbbing pain taking his breath away. Riding it out, he closed his eyes, marveling at how his hearing seemed to sharpen. He swore he could hear his own heartbeat racing wildly, or maybe that was his misconception since he also thought he could feel it under his sticky, cramping fingers. "Think, Standish," he commanded himself.

"Come on, Ezra," Buck insisted again.

Ezra turned his head to the side but the only thing he could see was the floor under the seat in front of him. He'd landed lengthwise between the seats with his feet in the aisle. Arching slightly in an attempt to lift his head enough to view his friend, a bolt of agony raced up his side. "Hell," he bit out, his head thumping back to the floor.

"I believe JD is alright, Mr. Wilmington, but I'm afraid I can not get a visual right now." He strained to keep his voice as level as possible.

"Ezra, are you hit?" Nathan's question cut through the communication as Ezra struggled to apply more pressure to his side, the awkward angle of his arm coupled with his lack of energy prevented him from being overly effective in the task. Taymullah was shouting at Rashid in Arabic to get the other passengers to shut up.

"Yes, Mr. Jackson," Ezra answered as he tried to blink the sweat from his eyes and wondered how he could sweat and shiver at the same time.

TBC....