Three Quick Shots

THREE QUICK SHOTS



As usual, LAX was a mess. People were pushing and shoving to make their flights. The check-in desk was swamped with late arrivals and the harried agents were working feverishly to get everyone processed and out on time.

As the crowds surged along, one passenger moved slowly. She appeared to be in her late 50's, with gray hair, a fairly stooped posture, and she walked with a slight limp. She wore a pair of blue jeans, a western shirt and her dress cowboy boots, and on the front of her shirt was a name tag shaped like a candy cane that said "Hi, I'm Madge Tucker". Anyone watching her would assume she was a grandmother going back home after the holidays.

As was her habit, Madge had arrived two hours early and had already checked in. Now all she had to do was make her way to the gate and wait for the boarding call.

She carried a large soft tapestry bag that held her wallet, keys, her cell phone, a small pack of cookies, a book and a small bag that contained her needlepoint. The short blunt needle threaded with blue yarn was anchored in the nearly completed canvas and didn't even get a second look. Her one piece of luggage had already been checked.

She passed through the security check with no problems and proceeded on down the long corridor. Arriving at the waiting area, Madge found an empty chair off to one side and settled down with her book. Take-off time was still an hour away. She was reading one of her favorites by Louis L'Amour called To Tame A Land. That man sure could write a good story, she thought.

It seemed that she had barely started reading when Madge heard the call for her flight to start boarding. She finished the paragraph she was reading and slipped the book into her bag.

The line moved along slowly but soon she was walking down the aisle of the plane searching for her seat. It was about two thirds of the way back on the left side of the plane. Madge stowed her soft bag under it and settled in. She watched as the other passengers found their seats and stashed their carryons in the overhead bins. She liked watching people. Most of them acted like they didn't have any more sense than a cow that had eaten loco weed.

But Madge was watching for a different reason. She knew they were on the plane. She just didn't know exactly who they were yet. So she carefully scrutinized each passenger, quickly discounting the mothers and fathers with children, the few elderly travelers and group of giggling older women who were obviously traveling together. She noticed a man sitting across the aisle from her, clutching his briefcase on his lap. Thinning gray hair and large dark rimmed glasses matched the description she had been given. Madge made a mental note to keep an eye on him.

There seemed to be a bit of confusion up toward the front of the airplane. A young man was complaining that someone had taken his seat. The stewardess hurried toward them and in a few minutes had each passenger in the correct seat.

Interesting, Madge thought. He sure seemed to want to sit in that particular seat.

She watched as the flight attendants went through the emergency procedures and prepared for takeoff. She took her needlepoint out and slipped it into the seat beside her.

Takeoff went smoothly and they were soon flying through clear blue skies. They had been in the air a little over an hour when Madge noticed the young man who had complained about his seat stand up and walk toward the front. It appeared that he was heading to the bathroom, but she didn't take her eyes off him. Suddenly he grabbed one of the flight attendants and pressed a gun to her head. Immediately another man about eight rows ahead of her stood up also brandishing a gun. She heard a commotion behind her and saw a third man standing with a weapon.

So now she knew who they were. Guns? How interesting, she thought. They hadn't brought them on board because they would never have gotten through the security check with them. So the guns had to be on the plane before boarding. Madge made a mental note to pass that bit of information on.

The hijackers were screaming for everyone to shut up. A frightened silence descended on the passengers. A few women began to cry softly and some of the men threw frantic looks around as if not believing that this could be happening to them.

When the passengers had been subdued, the man in the front shoved the stewardess into his vacated seat and told her to stay put. He then started beating on the cockpit door for the pilots to open it.

Five, ten, then fifteen minutes passed but the captain refused to open the door. The man was screaming threats about killing the passengers one at a time until the door was opened. There was no response from the cockpit. He screamed curses and threats of a bomb, sending moans of fear rippling through the plane.

Madge watched the men carefully but cautiously, not wanting to draw attention to herself. The two armed men toward the front seemed to be cool and seasoned fighters. But the man in the back was nervously pacing.

Madge became aware of the looks and motions passing between four young men seated across from her and knew they were going to jump him. She poised herself to take action once things started.

With a tiny nod between them, they suddenly jumped the hijacker in the back. As they tackled him, the gun flew from his hand and began sliding down the aisle. Madge put her foot out and stepped on it, then quickly slid it over until she could pick it up. A quick check told her the safety was off and it was loaded. She popped the clip out and saw that the bullets were soft lead hollow points. Oh, this was going to be too easy, she thought, slipping the clip back in.

She stood up. The hijacker in the middle of the plane was storming toward the scuffling men in the back. She raised the gun and pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through the man's right eye and his head exploded. He dropped.

The hijacker in the front of the plane froze for a second. She pulled the trigger again. The bullet again tore through the second man's right eye and his head exploded, splattering the cockpit door with gore.

Turning, Madge quickly walked back to the struggling men. The hijacker was fighting wildly and the young men struggled mightily to pin him down. She stepped up to them, placed the gun against the hijacker's head and pulled the trigger. Blood and brains splattered in a wide arc. The young men recoiled at the noise and mess. Their eyes jerked up to her in shock.

She moved to stand behind the last seat. She could hear the soft babble of people as they realized the danger was past. A couple of the men were checking the other two hijackers carefully. Then she heard the captain's voice calling on the intercom asking what was going on. He sounded tense and very worried.

Madge smiled at the young stewardess who cowered in terror on the floor.

"Tell him the hijackers are all dead and we are fine," she instructed her.

The girl stood up and shakily relayed the message.

"Are you sure?" he demanded.

"Yes sir."

"Ok, secure the passengers. I'm putting this bird on the ground at the nearest airport."

They landed twenty minutes later. Feds swarmed the airplane. They quickly offloaded the dead hijackers and then the passengers were allowed to deplane. But, they were held in a large waiting area as the Feds sorted through the information and tried to figure out what had happened. As they questioned the passengers it became clear that one woman had shot all three hijackers.

Then four agents pulled the old lady aside to talk to her. She had been expecting it and was not overly concerned. She gave them her name and address, handed over her driver's license for confirmation and answered their questions over and over. Three of the men asked questions while the fourth just looked on, observing her as she answered.

Looking down at her name tag, the agent in charge said, "Well, Madge, I understand you killed all three men."

"Yep, sure did."

"And with one of their guns?"

"Yep. He dropped it and I picked it up and used it."

"That was foolhardy. Did you even think that you might blow a hole in the plane and crash it?" one agent demanded belligerently.

"I checked the bullets first, young man. They were soft lead hollow points," she answered stiffly.

"Did you see where they got the guns?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure someone had put them under the seat cushions because one of them sure made an all fired big fuss when someone else sat down in his seat. I guess they had to be sure to be in the right seats."

"Did you hear them say anything?"

"Only something about Allah," she replied.

"How did you learn to shoot like that?" one of the officers asked in amazement.

"Sonny, I've lived on a ranch all my life. I never did like snakes much," she answered with a grin.

Twelve hours later, they finally released the last of the passengers and put them on another flight to continue on home. After questioning everyone, they had decided that what they were being told was what had actually happened. There would be no charges against Madge and they agreed to keep her identity a secret lest she become a target for revenge. That was real nice of them, but completely unnecessary. Madge Tucker wasn't her real name anyway. Three plane changes, three identity changes and two days later she arrived home.

The following day the phone rang in the ranch office. On the third ring she picked up.

"Hello?"

"You took care of the problem?"

"You know I did."

"The package was delivered safely. The deposit will be made today as agreed."

"It better be."

A chuckle sounded in her ear. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She hung the phone up and took a deep breath. A horse nickered from the paddock and she went out to check on him. Life sure was good on a ranch.