Day 11 So this is how it ends.

The plane was full but the noise of earlier was gone. The lights had been dimmed to allow people to try and sleep as much of the thirteen hour flight away as possible. Many of those who weren’t sleeping had their head phones in and were in their own private world watching movies or TV shows.

Marcus was trying to find a comfortable position and trying to stretch out his long legs. At least he had an aisle seat and was able to slide one leg out into it, but he had to keep it close into the seat in front or risk tripping people up who were heading to the rest rooms, and he would be in real trouble if one of the cabin crew tried to take a drinks trolley down passed him. He doubted there would be any sleep for him as he folded his arms across his chest, took in a calming breath and tried once again to get comfortable.

The sound of voices drifted back to him, something about them made him open his eyes. In the partition that separated the front of the plane from the back and which also housed one of the three sets of restrooms, he could see a man with dark hair standing in front of one of the flight attendants. They seemed to be arguing.

What caught his attention most was the accent, he had heard it before and it seemed out of place but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was wrong with the scenario. Then the dark haired man pushed the attendant back behind the partition wall and Marcus saw a flash of sliver metal. In an instant it clicked into focus. The last time he had heard that accent was when he was deployed. Having earlier removed his seat belt in his efforts to stretch out, he now stood and moved quickly but quietly up the aisle, his whole body on high alert for trouble. At the partition he paused and eased his head round. The dark haired man was standing half in a toilet cubical and Marcus could hear the sounds of struggle from within.

Marcus rolled his bad shoulder and hoped he had done enough to strengthen it. Stepping up to the cubical he reach a hand round the dark haired man’s throat and pulled him back against him, his free hand reaching round to grab the hand that was holding the knife and pulled him back.

The attendant had a shocked look on her face as her hand reached down to try and stem the flow of blood coming from a wound in her stomach. Marcus had very little time to notice as the man in his hold began to fight him.

Wanting to subdue him, not kill him limited his options somewhat, but out here in the civilian world he was not licensed to kill.

His shoulder was not quite up to hand to hand with a strong motivated opponent, and the man managed to pull half out of his grasp and begin to turn, but his legs got tangled with those of his victim and he fell back taking Marcus down with him.

The man’s head cracked on the floor dazing him for a moment. Marcus kept up his pressure on the man’s throat because he knew he wouldn’t get another second chance. Changing his hold he put his forearm across his throat and used his body weight to press it down. He wasn’t going to allow the man to get back up.

Other attendants had been alerted by the sounds that most of the passengers missed.

One pulled Marcus off the man.

“You can let go now, he’s not going to hurt anyone else now,” gentle words assured him as they moved him to sit with his back against the wall. He looked down at the red stain spreading across his white shirt as he heard someone calling to get the first aid kit.

“How is she?” Marcus asked looking at the legs of the woman that were still sticking out of the cubical.

“She’s ok I think, you got him off in time.” The attendant wadded up a white napkin and pressed it against his wound.

“You are a real hero man, thank you. I hate to think what could have happened.”

“Couldn’t have the plane go down, not with all these families on board, and it being Christmas and all,” Marcus said. He was beginning to feel cold but at least the pain in his stomach had eased somewhat.

“What’s your name?” the attendant asked.

“Marcus.”

“Stay with me Marcus, the captain is diverting to get you, and Debbie over there, to a hospital as fast as possible.”

“How long?”

“Wheels down in just under two hours.”

“No offence to your excellent first aid skills, but I’m not going to make that time frame, too much blood loss.”

“Don’t you give up on me Marcus.” The attendant grabbed another cloth and pressed it even harder onto his stomach.

“This isn’t giving up, this is knowing when to rest. I’m pleased I got to help out all these folks. It helps to know it wasn’t all for nothing.”

“It wasn’t, you saved over two hundred people, not to mention the cost of a court case. And to top it off, we don’t have to worry about him getting off on some technical point.”

“I am sorry I didn’t get to see my girl again, and get to watch our baby grow.” He coughed and blood splattered from his mouth.

“Tell me her name, I will make sure she knows you were thinking about her right to the end.”

Marcus nodded but he was beginning to feel tired and his thoughts were becoming scattered.

So this is how it ends? He thought as his eyes closed for the last time.

The headlines the next day read, “Hero saves 270 lives but losses his own.”

~#~