Oriel, part 18 by Joe Rathbun HIJACKERS PICK WRONG PLANE ... MEET UTE INDIAN WARRIOR! Security around the Riyadh airport is obvious. Guards with automatic weapons are all around with check points occurring almost every time one enters a different room. But the trouble is infiltration by extremist agents. Appearance being the same, it is a matter of effecting key records... and a guard or check point inspector could very well be an extremist. The glaring image on the x-ray screen of an AK-47 or M-16 inside carry-on-luggage carried by... certain persons... is sort of... ignored! And so they board, automatic weapons and all, have a seat and wait. At just before three P.M. locally, the Boeing 747 takes to the sky leaving Riyadh airport, climbs out to cruising altitude of 40,000 feet and settles on course, high above the Arabian desert. The time is right. One of those armed takes his carry-on and proceeds upstairs to the first class level. The others get ready amongst the majority of passengers, the coach class. The one that went upstairs is not going for the first class passengers, but to the cockpit, to the Pilots, Captain Soo Yan-O, Mohammed-Ahmed Saree and Chu Chyun Lin. When a Flight Attendant sees what appears to be a passenger coming, small suitcase in hand, toward the cockpit door, she warns politely, "Excuse me sir, but no one is allowed past this point without authorization!" When he opens the suitcase and brings out an M-16, a dramatic attitude change takes place with the Attendant. She has no choice but to let the hijacker through. He crashes through the door, starting to shout something like, "BY THE POWER OF ALLAH, WE ARE... taking..." - three pretty heads whirled around in unison toward a gun-man not expecting this sight - they see an automatic weapon pointed in the general direction of their heads and realize the future several minutes or hours are not going to be fun. Quickly, the hijacker regains composure of speech, "BY THE POWER OF ALLAH, WE ARE TAKING THIS AIRCRAFT! YOU! ARE YOU THE CAPTAIN!?" Looking down the wrong end of an M-16, many subconscious signals and messages flashed through Oriel's mind. One stood out, "comply, comply, comply, total, un-questioning obedience, then, wait..." "I am the Captain!" replied Oriel. The hijacker, in harsh, agitated voice that matched his deranged, wild-eyed appearance, yelled the command, "CHANGE COURSE! TAKE US TO LIBYA!" "Yes sir, changing course, sir!" replied Captain Oriel as she took the plane off automatic navigation and banked into a turn. Oriel reprogrammed the flight computer for the new course. While doing so, it displayed various images on a c.r.t. "WHAT IS THAT!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" demanded the hijacker. "I am resetting the aircraft's navigational controls for the Tripoli airport." "VERY WELL! NO TRICKS!" His entire body was shaking, a hair trigger on legs! One false move, and a skull could end up shattered with a load of bullets where brains once were. The Co-Pilot had hand to mouth, frightened to paralysis, the Flight Engineer like wise. Oriel was strangely calm as she obeyed the hijacker's every command to the letter. The hijacker was of lithe build, light actually and not that big. Oriel had three times his strength... but not that M-16. He was mustached with the rest of his face clean-shaven. "NOW... NOW CONTACT TRIPOLI INTERNATIONAL..." the hijacker fumbled for a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket, "ON 125.55! DO IT NOW!!" Without protest or any argument or even a word at all, Oriel adjusted the radio to the frequency ordered. She quite humbly and calmly asked, "Okay, done. Shall I or shall you?" as she held microphone out. "I'LL SPEAK!" He grabbed the mic from her hands. He spoke loudly and with nervous force over the radio in Arabic. The answer came through in Arabic. After a few exchanges, the hijacker turned to Oriel once again and demanded, "WHERE'S THE MIC THAT ANNOUNCES TO THE PASSENGERS!? GIVE IT TO ME!" With calm demeanor, Oriel produced a mic from an over-head panel. She worked a few switches on the over-head panel then informed, handing the hijacker the mic, "It is ready. Speak, and all passengers and Flight Attendants will hear you." The hijacker grabbed the mic gruffly then backed off a bit. He announced in martial tones in English, "BY THE POWER OF ALLAH, THE LIBYAN LIBERATION ARMY HAD TAKEN THIS AIRCRAFT! WE ARE ON OUR WAY TO LIBYA. ALL PASSENGERS TAKE OUT YOUR PASSPORTS! THOSE FAILING TO TAKE OUT PASSPORTS SHALL BE TAKEN PRISONER!" Downstairs in coach class, passengers were a flutter, reaching clumsily for passports, quaking with fear. Among them, Allen. Five of the automatic weapon wielding hijackers went up and down rows and rows of seats, examining passports. Every so often they ordered somebody out of their seats. Allen surmised in his thoughts, "And I'm going to be one! They are taking any Israel or United States passport holders." Indeed, one of the wild-eyed creatures grabbed his passport. One look... "YOU! JOIN THEM OVER THERE!" He gestured with his M-16. Allen, with heart in throat and shaking, worked by two other passengers who were German passport holders... he was next to the window as usual... and proceeded on to an ever-growing group being held at the foot of the stairs that led to first-class. Allen noted the worried, anxious, even sweating faces of United States men, along with several Jewish looking faces. All in the group were men. Then Allen caught sight of Mona in her Arabian clothes coming down the stairs from the first-class level. A hijacker had just brought her down from the first class area upstairs. Mona caught sight of Allen - "NO! DON'T HURT HIM!" she ran toward Allen. Allen wished hard inside that she had not done that. It only singled him out. Mona ran all the way up to Allen and clutched him in her arms. Right away a hijacker yelled, "GET AWAY FROM THAT AMERICAN DOG!" then grabbed Mona by the arm. She tore away, surprising the hijacker with her strength. A second hijacker came to Mona and hollered something in Arabic to her, holding the M-16 up toward the ceiling but near her head. The other hijacker pointed M-16 AT Allen's head. After the hijacker ordered something of her in Arabic, Mona glanced a worried look at Allen then proceeded up stairs. Well, indeed, that did it. They took Allen to the side. A hijacker screams at him, "WHY IS AN ARABIC LADY INTERESTED IN YOU!? ARE YOU SPY!?" "N... No! We are friends! "YOU LIE! WHY WOULD SHE BE INTERESTED IN AN AMERICAN DOG!?" "But I'm telling you the truth, we are friends. Check her passport, she's a U.S. citizen." The hijacker slapped Allen with all his might with the back of his hand, knocking him to the floor. "HOW DARE YOU SPEW FORTH SUCH FILTHY LIES ABOUT A MAIDEN OF OUR PEOPLE! I SHOULD KILL YOU RIGHT NOW!" Allen winced for the worse as he really thought he had breathed his final breath. With a mad-man screaming at him and an M-16 at his head, it looked bleak for Allen. But two other hijackers brusquely pulled Allen up and threw him into the seat while the one covered with M-16. "YOU REMAIN SILENT, SPYING DOG, OR YOU WILL DIE IN PAIN!" Allen felt his brain caving in. He feared if he could even stay together. Hands clammy cold, he could not control his shivers. In the cockpit, the hijacker watching Oriel turned and pointed M-16 through the open door when he heard someone coming. As soon as he saw an Arab Lady, all properly veiled and covered, he smiled, and returned the barrel of his M-16 to Oriel. But he was surprised at her height and size when she did enter the cockpit, frantic. "YOU LEAVE HER ALONE!" she screamed at the surprised hijacker. She turned to Oriel, "THEY'VE GOT ALLEN! THEY'RE BEATING ON HIM! ORIEL! DO SOMETHING! HE KNOWS ONLY PLEASURE! HE HAS NEVER EXPERIENCED PAIN! HE'S SO FRIGHTENED! DO SOMETHING!" Inside her body, Oriel's heart leapt to her throat only to be knocked down by her stoic attitude. The hijacker said, "Why are you so concerned about that American? He is unworthy of the concern of such a fine Arabic Maiden like yourself." "HE DID NOBODY ANY HARM! HE EVEN LIKES ARABIC CULTURE. HE'S GOT ARABIC MUSIC, AND CLOTHES EVEN." "To be used in his spy work, no doubt!" "HE'S NOT A SPY, SHIT-DAMMIT!" Noticing Oriel sitting there calmly, placidly, chin up, not of abject appearance at all, but completely calm, surprised Mona. "ORIEL! DON'T JUST SIT THERE! DO SOMETHING! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE A UTE INDIAN WARRIOR! DO SOMETHING! DON'T COWER TO THESE SAVAGES!" Oriel stoic, silently glared a message to Mona. After so many years together, Mona understood Oriel's looks, expressions, body language. Inside, Mona realized her mistake. "OH NO! HE MAY DIE BECAUSE OF STUPID ME!" The hijacker said, "If that American creature dies because of you, you should consider that an honor!" "SHADDUP!!!" Mona turned and stormed out. The hijacker made no effort to stop her. Mona returned downstairs, half flying down the steps with her Arabian clothes trailing gracefully behind her. She saw Allen, by himself in fear with an M-16, held by a candidate for an asylum, near his head. Mona tried to remain calm. She told the hijacker that appeared to be the leader in Arabic, "I have told the crew that Americans and Jews are being held. Okay?" "VERY WELL! Now tell me, how do I use this? Is it an intercom to the Pilot?" "Yes! You use it thus..." The hijackers smiled, almost leering, at the majestically tall, robed and veiled Mona Bukhari. Her Arabian out-fit was of particularly pretty design. Not black like most, it was a light pastel-lavender, with pink hems and boarders and gold-leaf trim. Her shroud, white, veil, a light pink. "One hijacker asked her in Arabic, "How did you get the American Savages' company to let you dress in such a proper and chaste manner? How did you escape the barbaric rags of the other Flight Attendants?" Mona was about to say something in anger, when she remembered Oriel, stoic in strong, quiet patience. How much like an Indian Warrior and leader against Custer, Sitting Bull, Oriel was like, Mona thought. Back in elementary school days, the American history class covered how gallantly (of course) General Custer fought the Indians. She remembered a photo of Sitting Bull. He appeared stern, stoic, patient and strong. She remembered she had to hold those feelings to herself at the time. Still with strong Middle Eastern ties, Mona knew little of the American Indian versus White-man struggles. She only felt Sitting Bull looked heroic, Custer and men were bullies, and wondered why they were so set on grabbing the Indian's land anyway. But she spoke not of it, for the prevailing attitude of her classmates AND Teacher was the Indians are enemy, Custer is hero. Mona Bukhari also realized she had a special advantage. Upstairs she nearly blew it. She very nearly tore her veil off to scream a profanity in Arabic at that hijacker. Now she was glad she followed Ute Indian Oriel's example and did not. She answered that hijacker's question, "It was simple, actually. They are having trouble finding Flight Attendants for these Middle Eastern routes. I demanded my right to dress in a proper manner for a Woman of the Islamic Faith." That produced a cheer and victory fists in the air from the hijackers. It appeared to Mona she was somewhat of a heroine to them. She thought hard to herself, "Now DON'T BLOW IT, dummy!" In the cockpit, Oriel heard a voice speaking Arabic come over the intercom. Before the hijacker even had the chance to demand it, she handed the mic to him. "Push that button to answer." she instructed calmly and with matter of fact tone. After some frenzied talk in Arabic, the hijacker demanded, "GIVE ME THE RADIO'S MIC! I MUST SPEAK WITH OFFICIALS IN TRIPOLI!" After some talking in Arabic, an English speaking voice came on. "This is Ambassador Eric Bronson, what are your demands and what is your present status?" "WE ARE IN ROUTE TO TRIPOLI IN LIBYA. WE ARE THE LIBYAN LIBERATION ARMY. THE PLANE IS OURS, ALL IS SECURE. Demands are simple! FREE ANY AND ALL LIBYAN AND OTHER MUSLIM HELD IN ISRAELI PRISONS! In two hours, TWO HOURS, if the first 20 Libyan prisoners have not been released, WE WILL BEGIN EXECUTION, ONE AT A TIME, OF UNITED STATES AND ISRAELI CITIZENS ABOARD THIS AIRCRAFT. Each hour one will in turn be executed, alternating between United States or Israeli citizens. WE WILL BE PATIENT! Twenty Muslims each hour, that will be fine. BUT THEY MUST ALL EVENTUALLY BE RELEASED! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?" "Understood! How can we be sure you will be informed in a timely manner when they ARE released?" "TWO WAYS! When the prisoners are released into Lebanon, the border guards have a direct line to us here. In the event the released prisoners can not be escorted to the Lebanon border with in an hour, you may merely INFORM US! We will TEMPORARILY believe you! But if there is treachery, MULTIPLE HOSTAGES WILL DIE AT ONCE!" "Okay, okay, very well, we understand. We will be marshaling the appropriate authorities and procedures immediately!" Oriel thought to herself, as far as Muslim-Extremist hijackings and demands go, this one is not one of the worst and certainly not the most complicated. But it was certainly bad enough. Misunderstandings and mistakes can occur. The Ambassador or whoever SOUNDED compliant, but that often is at first. And now, the waiting game. In tense silence, Oriel and crew waited. Indeed, the hijacker was becoming relaxed. She feigned continued abject obedience, but like a cougar waiting for the prey to get a little closer, Oriel waited. She held the hijacker in her peripheral vision as if a controller in her brain was watching events in the extreme side of a monitor's screen. The hijacker's M-16 was sagging to the ground now. Oriel waited. Mona with Arabic clothes gracefully billowing behind her as she walked fast, came in with coffee and cigarettes. She walked in and stood between the hijacker and Oriel which positioned Mona in front of the M-16. Mona said in Arabic, "Here, they thought you might need coffee and a smoke. And... I'm sorry I was short with you before... I didn't understand the humane cause you were for. I still don't agree with your methods, but I agree with your goals." The hijacker smiled, "Your apology is most accepted! I can see why such a gracious Lady as yourself might be disturbed by violence. It is a pity you must go through this. But know this: there is no other way. It is the only way the great satan that Israelis and Americans are can be forced to comply!" But while he was talking, Mona dropped a tiny folded paper into Oriel's seat. Carefully, under pretense of squirming in the seat, Oriel deftly transferred the paper to her side opposite the hijacker and unfolded it with her left, hidden, hand. Crowded on it were the words, "They think Allen spy & thief" When the hijacker saw Oriel squirming around, he gently nudged Mona to stand aside, saying, "I must have a clear view of the American bitch, she may try something dangerous!" "Well, I'm going anyway. I am helping examine passports." The hijacker smiled as Mona breezed out in her graceful attire. Oriel, knowing the many stories and customs and ways of the Middle East from Mona, knew the ramifications of "Allen is spy and thief". Oriel felt tense as she knew they may cut off Allen's hand. She had to do something, but not yet. The hijacker's grip was loosening but she thought best to let it loosen further... More waiting... The radio crackled to life with a voice in Arabic. Oriel handed the mic to the hijacker as always, calmly and obediently, and with her right hand; naturally, for the hijacker stood on her right. The hijacker let go of the M-16 with his left hand to grasp the mic. His right hand held the M-16 at the trigger, but the heavy weapon sagged a bit with just one hand upon it. It's aim was somewhere toward the floor. \ / BLOWW! / \ WITH THE SPEED OF A STRIKING RATTLE SNAKE! WITH THE FORCE OF A POUNCING COUGAR! STREAKS OF REDDISH BROWN AND BLACK is ALL the other crew members saw! The hijacker crumbled under Oriel's mighty 250 pounds of raw muscle-power. The hijacker slammed with crashing destructive force against the Flight Engineer's desk, breaking off a big chunk of it! Oriel's right hand had the hijacker's left hand, her LEFT hand had the hijacker's RIGHT or TRIGGER hand. Her left hand squeezed hard then twisted - CRUNK! - the muffled sound of wrist-bones breaking inside sinews and skin - the hijacker wailed and the M-16 dropped! Oriel picked up and threw the hijacker to the floor with quaking force. A regulation Lady Pilot's uniform shoe - they have a modest heel - SLAMMED fast, hard and powerfully into the hijacker's face. The sickening sound of bones crumbling and the sight of blood and flesh spattering... the hijacker was NO MORE! The petite Chinese Lady Flight Engineer ended up under the other end of the Flight Engineer's desk, huddled, shaking. The Co-Pilot had both hands to her mouth with an insane looking, zombie-like stare. Oriel picked up the M-16. She held the heavy weapon with much greater ease than the hijacker did. She could easily hold it in one hand. If she knew how to fire one, she could aim with one hand. "We can't just go storming in down there! They may shoot many passengers!" Oriel declared. Finally the Co-Pilot unfroze. "Boy! Man! I wasn't expecting that! Whew! You're something!" "That's just the point. The hijacker wasn't expecting it either. I gotta figure out how to free Allen, they think he's a spy and thief. That means they may maim him. Let's see... " Oriel laid the M-16 carefully on the floor beside her Captain's seat as she sat down. The radio kept coming forth with someone calling in Arabic. The voice was getting more and more agitated. Oriel picked up the mic and really answered over the radio, "AW SHADDUP! HE AIN'T ANSWERIN'!" She switched the radio back to Cologne, Germany's frequency. She took the airplane off automatic controls. Very gently, Oriel nudged the 747 into an ever-so-slight turn to the north, back on to a heading for Germany. "Turning her gradual so they won't notice, eh?" Asked Saree, the Co-Pilot. "Yes! May as well do that while I'm waiting." Oriel noticed poor little Chu Chyun Lin, huddled under the desk, staring at the hijacker and his destroyed face. "YO! CHYUN LIN! You can come out now!" Oriel announced to her. She did not, apparently petrified and appalled. Oriel insisted again, "Come on, it's okay!" Chu Chyun Lin was so tiny, and Oriel so big, the two appeared as Mother and Daughter. Oriel could not help but think of her as just a frightened little girl. Oriel left her seat and knelt to Chyun Lin. Oriel took her hands and beckoned her to come out. She was trembling uncontrollably and her skin was cold and wet, almost like a fish. Her face appeared pale. "My goodness, it looks like she's in shock!" Oriel commented. Oriel sat Chyun Lin on her lap. Oriel took off her Pilot's uniform-coat, leaving her dressed in the uniform white blouse. She placed the coat over Chyun Lin. Oriel's coat was so big compared to petite Chyun Lin, it served very well as a blanket. Oriel hugged her, holding Chyun Lin close to her body for warmth. Chyun Lin laid her head on Oriel's breast, apparently accepting the offering of physical and emotional support Oriel was providing. Slowly, her shivering subsided. "Boy, she sure is taking this hard!" "Yes, Saree. I guess it depends on one's back ground. If they have been through a lot of unsavory stuff, they can take the sight of something like that. If not, a mere extra long cut can make the uninitiated fall apart. But I see other than the fright, this doesn't seem to bother you!" "In my earlier life in Palestine, I have seen people beaten to death, beheaded, hands cut off, I saw my own Uncle executed by pistol, I've seen guts get cut out..." "Okay, okay Saree, I get the point. You HAVE been through a bit!" "Maybe you don't believe because you don't see it on the news. But it goes on. And neither side can claim to be blameless. I've seen atrocities committed by Jew against Arab AND Arab against Jew. Because of this and that kind of cover-up, most of it never makes the news. But it happens, believe me!" "Oh I believe it! Although I have to admit your grisly list surpasses anything I'VE ever been through, as an American Indian, as an original Native American, I have seen plenty of unfair, inhumane treatment, the kind that could and does ruin lives. And most White Americans know nothing of it." Then Mona Bukhari came gliding in and stopped, drawing a breath surprised! "WOW! HOW DID..." "I got my chance, Mona, I had to rid us of him. I'm sorry, I know being an Arab like yourself..." "DON'T SAY 'I'M SORRY', NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE! The world, especially the Islamic world, is better off without shits like that! WE GOTTA DO SOMETHING! Those shit heads below are giving Allen a trial. They're just torturing him. Mentally and physically. They slap him, they knock him down and kick him, oh! And he has bruises and a cut! Oriel! He's not used to that! He can't take it! I wanna take care of him but I can't..." Mona's voice cracked and she began to cry as she knelt beside Oriel's seat, "OH! WE GOT TO DO SOMETHING!..." Mona saw the M-16 - she picked it up - Oriel's strong hands stopped Mona before she could get going - "YOU CAN'T GO CHARGING IN THERE LIKE A WILD MAN! There are many of them. They might start shooting every which way! Many passengers, ESPECIALLY ALLEN, would get shot!" Mona gave up the M-16 to Oriel, knelt and sobbed. Chyun Lin hid her face in Oriel's blouse. "Listen to me Mona. I need for you to have your wits about you." Oriel pulled a couple kleenex for Mona to dry tears. "You need to go down there and keep me abreast on what they're doing to Allen. And you need to make them think all's well up here! Now, before all this, what did you come up here for?" Between sniffles, Mona replied, "They just wanted me to check. They haven't heard from him in a while." "Okay! Then you better go down there right away and tell them everything's fine. With this delay, if they already are a bit concerned, they'll begin to think something happen to you too. Thank GOODNESS you're wearing those clothes! You dressed like that really IS giving us a small advantage. NOW GO!" Mona gathered herself and left for down stairs. "I gotta think of something! They're gonna hurt my Allen! ... OH! Almost missed my heading!" Oriel straighten the plane's heading and placed it back on automatic guidance controls, headed for Germany. She had trimmed the jet to make an ever-so-gradual sweeping turn back to a heading for Germany. Had Oriel forgotten, they would have eventually flown in a long, sweeping circle! "Whose this Allen I keep hearing about?" "He's Mona's and my boyfriend! He's sexy, he's got a terrific bod, he's as sweet as can be, he can fuck both of us with lust left over, he's an excellent companion... OH! I gotta do something but what? WHAT?" Below, it was not going well for Allen. The hijackers had degenerated to mere torturing barbarians. The teachings of the Koran were tossed to the winds. They were giving Allen a mock trial. Spitting on him, slapping him, accusing him of things he has nothing to do with. He was to tears. "LOOK AT THE CRY-BABY. HE CAN'T ACCEPT HIS PUNISHMENT AS A MAN. He steals from Arabs, THEN HE EXPECTS TO GO FREE!? TELL ME, AMERICAN FILTH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH ARABIC MUSIC, CLOTHES AND CARPET!?" "I bought them... I didn't steal anything..." "BOUGHT, HE SAYS! With what!? PENNIES!? Some hard working Arab made that beautiful rug you took. AND YOU WISH TO STEAL IT FOR NOTHING!?" POW! Another back-of-the-hand into Allen's already bruised face. Another hijacker teased, "See him cry! Tell me American! If you are so distressed here, WHY DON'T YOU FLY AWAY ON YOUR RUG, LIKE ALADDIN!?" He and two other hijackers laughed. Two remaining hijackers seemed not to understand the references to Aladdin and the magic carpet, part of an Americanized version of an old Arab story. Then from one of their carry-on baggage, a hijacker brought out an authentic SCIMITAR, that curved sword often associated with Arab Fighters of old. The hijacker held it and said, "Here's ANOTHER fine piece of Arab workmanship, do you wish to STEAL this TOO!?" Allen did not answer. "WELL DO YOU!?" " no " "WELL, THAT'S OKAY, I'LL GIVE IT TO YOU AFTER WE'RE DONE WITH IT! SO, you're interested IN and know a little of Arab culture, do you? THEN YOU KNOW THE PUNISHMENT FOR STEALING!" "No! Please, I did not steal..." "SILENCE DOG! WHEN WE WANT YOU TO BARK, WE'LL TELL YOU! You STILL DENY you have stolen, when you have in your bags a rug, many tapes and a set of Arabic clothing all taken for a penitence, and on top of that, tried to steal the heart of an Arab Maiden..." Mona could not stand this. In Arabic she said, "HE DIDN'T STEAL MY HEART! LOOK, aren't we wasting time? He's just like any other American in Saudi Arabia! You look through any of their baggage and I'm sure you will find..." "Look, your delicate eyes should not see this," a hijacker said in Arabic to Mona as he gently nudged her along toward the stairs. "Go up, see if our comrade needs anything, chat with him for a while, and when you come back, what must be done will be done and he will be out of here. You will not have to see it." Frightened, Mona scrambled up the stairs. She paused just out of sight at the top of the stairs... "OKAY, LET'S DO IT! AMERICAN, YOU HAVE BEEN FOUND GUILTY OF STEALING FROM THE ARABIC CULTURE. Due to multiple stealing including an attempt at an Arabic Lady's heart, YOU ARE SENTENCED TO AMPUTATION OF BOTH HANDS!" Mona gasped and ran frantically to the cockpit, "ORIEL! ORIEL! THEY'RE GONNA DO IT!!! THEY'RE GONNA CUT OFF BOTH HIS HANDS!!!" Oriel froze as in a flash she accessed her deepest subconscious - "DO SOMETHING! WE HAVEN'T A CHOICE!" Oriel heard a voice from her left, speaking in - speaking in Ute Indian - she turned - superimposed in the wind shield of the jet was a Ute Warrior! "ALEX!" Oriel thought - "How can it be Alex!" Oriel shook her head as if to shake the hallucination away - Mona ran to the top of the stairs, and glanced downward - Allen was crying "NO! NO! I TELL YA I DIDN'T STEAL!..." "SHUT UP YOUR HOWLING, THIEF-DOG! I LEAST TAKE IT LIKE A MAN!" he held the scimitar - two other hijackers held down Allen's arm, grabbing his fore-arm and hand, leaving the wrist exposed! Mona ran stumbling, tripping on her robe-like clothing back to the cock-pit - "O R I E L ! ! !" Oriel gazed upon the Ute Indian Warrior speaking to her from the wind-shield, not knowing why she seem to think it was Alex! The image COULDN'T be Alex! "O R I E L ! ! !" Mona screamed! The Ute Warrior - somehow perceived by Oriel as Alex - commanded, "Rotate the plane! Cork-screw it! Then cut cabin pressure! Fly like insanity!" Oriel tossed Chyun Lin to Saree's lap, "HOLD ON TO HER!! MONA, SIT, HOLD ON! I'M BRINGING DOWN THE LAW OF ORIEL! HURTING ALLEN IS PUNISHABLE BY \ / ! ! ! D E A T H ! ! ! / \ Oriel yanked the plane off automatic controls - she pulled and pushed the control wheel and stick like she lost her mind! "WE'RE PUTTIN' THIS BIRD THROUGH IT'S PACES!!!" JUMPING AND TWISTING THE BIG PLANE HEAVED AND ALL AT ONCE, EVERYBODY'S STOMACH CAME UP! The giant plane lurched and twisted. Downstairs, hijackers, unbuckled passengers and Allen went tumbling like beads in a shaken baby's rattle! A cacophonous mayhem of screams and shouts from passengers - hijackers shouting uselessly in Arabic - Allen tumbling trying to hang on to anything - baggage tumbling, hitting people - COMPLETELY INVERTED! People scrambling on what use to be the ceiling now turned floor - the plane lurches right - rotates the OTHER way - a couple hijackers resemble a hamster in an exercise-cage until they run in to a partition then tumble helplessly - the scimitar, tumbling free with noisy metallic clangs, sticks into a wall and remains - Allen goes for it along with a hijacker! The hijacker gets there first and reaches for the scimitar, Allen sees this - forms a fist and using the force of his tumble slams his fist into the hijacker's face! Allen just does hang on to the scimitar before the rotating jet forced him to tumble away! Allen with scimitar in hand tumbles helplessly! M-16s tumble as well, removed from their original users. A big Jewish man, one of those in that group the hijackers collected, grabs an M-16 as it and its frantic owner tumble by. "DIE! ARAB FILTH!" POW-POW-POW-POW-POW - the M-16 dumps several slugs into a tumbling hijacker, his blood and flesh spraying every which way! In the cockpit, Oriel, charged with adrenaline, grabbed the cabin- pressure controls and cut them off then continued the wild flying, diving, turning, rotating - she did not let up! Co-Pilot Saree, with Chyun Lin in lap had managed to get a restraining harness around them both. Chyun Lin hung on to and laid her head on Saree's shoulders and hid her face in Saree's long wavy hair, absolutely scared to frozen paralysis! Mona had strapped herself in the Flight Engineer's seat and was hanging on! She also held on to the M-16 which had been tumbling about. The dead body of the hijacker was tumbling as well earlier, but Mona managed to kick the body out the door as it tumbled by once. Below, the all-out mayhem continued. One by one, all five of the M-16s were picked off by bolder passengers that were buckled in. Three living hijackers were in different places, some near floor, some near ceiling, hanging on. Another hijacker was unconscious - a big United States man clubbed his head with a piece of small but heavy baggage - no telling whose! And of course the bullet riddled body of the other hijacker tumbled, flopping around, blood and small pieces of flesh still coming forth from it... The big jet continued to lurch and rotate wildly! Some passengers fainted, others had vomited everything they had eaten, many who had not been buckled were desperately hanging on to this and that object... "ORIEL! SHOULDN'T YOU STOP THIS NOW?" Mona screamed, "ALLEN MAY BE HURT!" "IT'S THE ONLY WAY! I CAN'T STOP UNTIL I KNOW - MONA, CAN YOU, HANGING ON, GO TO THE STAIRS AND TAKE A LOOK..." "RIGHT! I'LL DO IT! KEEP HER TUMBLING, JUST A WEE BIT GENTLER MAYBE!" "RIGHT!" Oriel eased off a bit of her wild flying while Mona, hanging on to various objects and fixtures, made her way to the top of the stairs. She saw Allen, scimitar in hand, clinging desperately to a partition. Mona shouted toward the cockpit, "ORIEL, LEVEL THE PLANE UNTIL I TELL YOU!!" Apparently Oriel heard. The big jet leveled. "ALLEN! GRAB MY HAND!" Allen jumped off the partition he had been hanging on to and leapt for the stairs. But a hijacker, unseen, tackled him, knocking him down. The scimitar fell loose, with a loud metallic clang on the floor. The hijacker scrambled for it, but Mona grabbed the edge of the upper floor, hung on, whirled herself around with clothes a- flying and leapt to the floor landing on the hijacker's back! This knocked the breath out of him, giving Mona the split second she needed to grab the scimitar! The hijacker was prone on the floor with one arm out in his attempt to grab the scimitar - Mona screamed, "I SENTENCE YOU TO AMPUTATION OF YOUR HAND FOR STEALING OUR PEACE AND STEALING A PLANE!!!" And with a combination of her basic inherit strength of her weight- trained six-foot body, and adrenaline-charged anger, she handled the heavy steel scimitar like it was a feather, bringing it down hard on the hijacker's wrist! !!! CHOP !!! Like a Chinese Chef preparing vegetables, Mona whacked off the hijacker's hand! It scooted off across the floor while the hijacker wailed in pain, clutching a stub where a hand used to be, profuse blood gushing forth. "COME ON ALLEN, LET'S GET OUT O' HERE!" Allen and Mona scrambled up the stairs and into the cockpit. "Okay Oriel, resume your wild flying!" Oriel did not fly as wild as before, but kept the jet turning, rocking and jostling. She revved engines full and ascended. "If you ascend with cabin pressure off, we'll suffocate" warned Saree. "I am used to high altitude living! I will carefully watch the situation. Those filth must die! They have crossed the law of Oriel!" "But your Allen is safe with us now, and we..." "Allen was just part of it! Those beasts are still down there among 500 people armed with machine-guns! I'll continue the wild flying until hypo-ventilation sets in, then I'll take 'em!" "Okay, Captain, but just remember, that feeling of euphoria can strike the finest Pilot, without he or she realizing it. And if indeed you ARE the last person aboard conscious, somehow because of your strength or high-altitude living or whatever, then you will be IT! Our sole source for survival! If you go, we ALL go!" "I'm aware of that. Like I say, I will monitor the situation with great care!" After that, Saree with Chyun Lin in her lap, Mona who seated herself on the floor and Allen, now in the Flight Engineer's seat waited while Oriel continued the crazy flying, tracing erratic sine-waves in the sky. The thin air took effect. Mona began giggling. Allen told inane jokes... "I would have sold my hands to a meat market! Hah-hah- hah-hah-hah!" Chyun Lin sobbed on Saree's shoulder, wetting Saree's long hair. Saree herself giggled for no reason. Oriel waited, un-effected. After another few minutes, Saree, Chyun Lin, Mona and Allen were all asleep, passed out actually. Oxygen starved. The pressure was dropping gradually, so no one developed "bends", but hypo- ventilation WAS setting in. Oriel ceased the zig-zag rough flying, leveled and trimmed the jet on to level flight. She set the flight computer back on course to Germany. She got up from her chair, taking the scimitar in her powerful hand. The body of the hijacker killed by Oriel earlier laid crumpled to the side just outside the cockpit door. Oriel grabbed and dragged it. She tossed it down the stairs. Oriel came down the stairs. She felt a little dizzy, but steadied herself and continued her plan. All was silent except for the drone of the engines; everyone passed out. Oriel found the bullet riddled hijacker and pulled that one to the base of the stairs beside his dead comrade. Over there, in another corner, the hijacker with a stub where his hand used to be lay unconscious. He was out from both low pressure AND severe bleeding. Oriel dragged him over to join the others too. Oriel then searched for the other three... "how do I know there's three?" Oriel wondered. Somehow she knew. And somehow, she could recognize them. She found one. He was lolling on the floor, whimpering, giggling a little. Oriel raise scimitar high over head... !!! WHOMP !!! The heavy blade came crashing down heavily, driven by its own weight and 250 pound, six-foot-six Oriel's muscles! Blood spurted forth like a ghastly fountain and the hijacker's head tumbled a ways. Oriel dragged the hijacker and carried his head by the hair and threw both pieces in the pile too. She found the second hijacker unconscious... !!! CHOP !!! Off came his head as well, with an accompanying pool and rivulets of blood. Oriel dumped both parts into the pile. Any Pilot or Doctor will say that the euphoria that comes in hypo- ventilation comes on without warning. Before the victim knows it, he or she is giggling, telling stupid jokes and teetering around, feeling just fine. Oriel found the third and final of the remaining hijackers. Giggling, she began to sing... "One little two little three little hijackers, four little, five little... OOF!" - CHOP - "SIX little hijackers... HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!" Oriel grabbed the corpse by the foot and dragged while whole-sale quantities of blood came pouring forth from its neck-stump... the head, held dangling by the hair in Oriel's hand, was thus brought along too. Plop - plop! Both parts are dumped on the pile. By this time, Oriel, giggling away, was numb. Hardly aware of what she was doing, she proceeded to sever the heads of the other three found earlier dead already. Oriel then stuck the scimitar into the floor beside the grisly pile. Bellowing loudly, Oriel felt great about her victory... "HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH! I AM VICTORIOUS! I, UTE INDIAN MISTRESS WARRIOR, HAVE CONQUERED!! HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH! BEHOLD, GOOD PEOPLE, THE GLORY OF ALMIGHTY ORIEL!!!" Oriel tore off blouse and skirt and flung both away. With no underwear, that left her nude except for her shoes. She kept on the uniform shoes of modest high heels for... who knows what reason in her head... perhaps for the one and a half inch the shoes added to Oriel's already six-foot-six height. She strutted down the aisles of unconscious passengers and some passengers that lay where they fell. Waving hips and strutting wildly, she flung her long hair up and out with her hands. "HAH- HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH! BEHOLD! BEHOLD I SAY! ALMIGHTY CONQUEROR ORIEL!!!" She strutted all the way to the end, crossed over and strutted back down the other aisle. Woozy and dizzy, her genital ached for action. She straddled the back of an unoccupied chair spreading her big, long muscular legs apart. She lowered her vagina on the chair and thrust away, huffing, moaning, panting. She became frenzied, big muscles in her butt and thighs rippled with waves and waves of raw strength. Such was her weight and the force of her powerful thrusting, she bent the chair's back! "OOOHHHHWEEEE!!!" she screamed as she blew up with a furious orgasm. VISION OF UTE WARRIOR ORIEL PERCIEVES AS ALEX COMES TO ORIEL'S AID As Oriel calmed from the masturbation, she left the chair. Her speech slurred, she announced, "IF ANY OF YA GOOD MEN WANNA TRY THE MAGIC OF ORIEL, JUST STEP FORWARD!"... She saw a man! A tall, nude, muscular Ute Warrior with beautiful reddish brown skin stood in front of Oriel, smiling peacefully. "ALEX!" Oriel called, "YO! WHY DO I KEEP THINKIN' YOU'RE ALEX?" "Come with me, Soo Yan-O! You are done here! Let's go back!" "I'LL GO WITH YA ANY WHERE! LET'S FUCK!" Oriel slurred out. "Come with me! To the cockpit! You have duties to perform! Over 500 people are depending on you!" Oriel followed the Ute Indian Warrior, stumbling up the stairs and on to the cockpit. Saree with Chyun Lin in her lap and arms, Mona and Allen were all out cold. Oriel flopped heavily and clumsily into her seat. She reached up to the over-head panel and flipped the switches necessary to bring the cabin pressurization pumps back on line. The Ute Warrior advised, "It will take a while for the pumps to bring the pressure back up. People may be dying, you must dive!" With extremely slurred speech, Oriel warned, "I don't thin' I can han'le her..." "Let me sit on your lap, Soo Yan-O, I will take the controls!" "WHOOAA THERE! Now there's a good idea!" The six foot muscular Ute Indian Warrior took a seat in Oriel's lap. She felt herself becoming sexually aroused. The Ute Warrior took the plane off automatic controls and went into a dive. As they neared 5000 feet of altitude, the Ute Warrior took the plane out of the dive and leveled off. The surface of the Earth below had become clear in detail, due to their low altitude. They were just out over the Mediterranean Sea, just barely north of probably Egypt. Locally, it was after 4 P.M. They were so close to the ocean below, they could see larger ships and their V-shaped wakes. Even white wave caps could be seen. Oriel knew not how long she had been unconscious. She woke startled but still woozy. Oriel's extremities tingled. Her genital ached painfully. She realized she had dozed off or passed out. The plane was already trimmed for level flight at 5000 feet and 420 miles per hour. Their heading was east-east-north-east or out over the Mediterranean. And the sexy Ute Indian Warrior was gone! "ALEX!" Oriel called. She got up from the seat still stumbling. "ALEX! I WANNA FUCK!" Oriel stumbled out of the cockpit toward the stairs. "A L E X ! ! ! WHERE ARE YOU! LET'S FUCK EACH OTHERS BRAINS OUT!!!" But the Warrior was no where to be found. Oriel's genital ached fiercely. The hand-rail of the stairs was convenient... Oriel straddled the hand rail, lowered her dripping wet genital on it and thrust away powerfully, nearly ripping the rail off its mounts. "WHOOEEEE!" she wailed as orgasm tore through her oxygen starved body. Relieved from the second masturbation, she stumbled over to a liquor counter of the first class section, and passed out again. Had any of those men in the first class been conscious, they would have seen quite a sight! There before them, naked and sprawled out, propped against the liquor counter like some skid-row drunk, was the 6-foot-6, 250 pound Captain of their flight. She lay, huge muscle-legs spread and wearing only shoes, displaying her awesome genital to the entire wide open area... and not a soul knew! Being the strongest, the toughest, and the most acclimated to rarified air, Oriel was the first to respond to the increasing cabin pressure... FORTUNATELY! She shook the sleepiness from her eyes, she looked out... she saw her own big bare legs and the first class lounge spread out beyond them! Then she realized the Pilotless plane - "YIKES!!" Oriel leaped to her feet and charged to the cockpit. After a frantic scan of instruments and outside, she saw all was well and stable, the plane under computer guidance. She finally began to remember what happened and calmed down. Then it dawned on her she was naked! "My clothes, I better get my clothes!" Oriel remembered, now, tearing off her clothes. She ran, naked, downstairs. She saw that horrible pile of bodies and cut-off heads... "GOLL-DANG! Did I do THAT!?" She indeed found her clothes among passengers JUST beginning to stir. Not yet conscious enough to be aware of their naked Captain, she gathered her clothes. Her skirt had fallen over a young man's body. Being young and fit, he was already beginning to come to. She yanked it off him before he knew what was happening. Her blouse lay next to an old Lady. She had a ways to go before she would awake. But her clothes were damaged and unwearable. She remembered she had just torn them off. With passengers becoming more and more awake, she scrambled back up stairs and frantically opened the Pilots' lockers. From her bags she took out a super short mini-skirt and thin tank-top. That's the only type of clothes she had. She put them on and so dressed, she took her captain's seat and took the controls. She ascended to 40,000 feet and then trimmed for level flight at 525 miles per hour. She set the automatic controls for Cologne, Germany. She turned on the radio to report their ETA would be just a little late. Really, they actually lost little time! By this time the controller in Cologne knew of the hijacking. Upon his inquiry, Oriel proudly and with relief reported "all is well". Many passengers, upon regaining consciousness, saw that ghastly pile of bodies and heads and passed out AGAIN! As the Flight Attendants came to, they, with Mona Bukhari, explained the horrid struggle it took to put and end to the hijacking. Oriel said nothing of her cutting off their heads. Nobody was conscious to witness it. So why bother? Just chalk it up to one horrible struggle to take back the plane. Oriel smoothly guided the big 747 into Cologne, Germany's airport. She and crew were greeted by hordes of reporters and investigators. The next several hours would be spent in interviews; first with official investigators then with reporters. The pile of bodies and severed heads made for sensational news reporting. News media, especially television, feasted well on this bonanza! Of course Oriel said nothing of her cutting off the hijackers' heads or of the Ute Indian Warrior that guided her. The investigators and news media had to be satisfied that the incompletely explained grisly pile of beheaded corpses were the result of a terrific battle to wrest control of the plane from M-16 toting, crazed hijackers. Oriel did not know much of the Middle East, Arabs and Islam. When she heard that the hijackers that so nearly killed many innocent people and Allen, and were inches from cutting off Allen's hands were extremists of a religion called Islam, she lost all control of her temper. "THIS IS THE SECOND GAUL DAMNED TIME IN MY LIFE SOME SHIT DAM SON OF A SHIT-EATIN' RELIGION HAS COME AT ME OR ONES I LOVE WITH INTENT TO DO HARM!! I THOUGHT A RELIGION WAS FOR KNOWING GOD!! ALL I'VE EVER SEEN FROM RELIGIONS IS THE DEVIL'S WORKS!!! WHAT GIVES!?" Mona and Allen never saw Oriel so red-faced foot-stomping mad. She cursed loudly against standard religions for several minutes. But all during Oriel's tirade, she carefully kept pointing out the REAL GOD is not addressed properly in these religions. Oriel was NOT being blasphemous in her verbal attack upon religion; quite contrarily, she questioned religions' sincerity in their approach to God. Oriel used her chance on world-wide television, during a live interview, to lash out at religion. As she so loudly pointed out, twice now, in her life, religion-turned-sour attacked her. At the time of the interview, she was tired, suffering the after-effects of hypo-ventilation, had a head-ache and was generally irritable. She released her pent-up hatreds and hostilities against standard religions she has harbored for years now. Oriel bitterly railed against standard religions, calling them a license to mess up lives and destroy cultures. "Religion is an excuse for CONTROL-FREAKS TO CONTROL OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES! Like in Sarasota, Florida in the USA, religious zealots didn't like thong bikinis, so they got the government there to outlaw them! BECAUSE OF THESE CONTROL-FIENDS, USING RELIGION AS AN EXCUSE, AMERICANS HAVE LOST PART OF THEIR FREEDOM IN THAT TOWN!" She advised anyone listening to give up old standard religions and seek, on their own, the REAL GOD, creator of Universe and Humanity, and source of all good and love. "SEEK THE REAL GOD, the source of LOVE and GOOD WILL." She ferociously attacked standard religions and the extremists they produce. "NOTHING BUT AGENTS OF SATAN!" she scolded. "IF THE WHOLE LOT OF THEM WERE WIPED OFF THIS EARTH, THE REST OF US WOULD BE FAR HAPPIER!! The only difference between Muslim extremists and the Christian ones is the Middle Eastern countries lack sufficient strength or controls to put down such movements as United States has done... SO FAR! If Christian extremists got out of control, the SAME DAM THING WOULD HAPPEN IN THE UNITED STATES! ALL THEY DO IS GRAB MONEY AND USE IT TO DO THE WORKS OF THE DEVIL!" Oriel is a believer and practitioner of "PEYOTEISM", the American Indian religion. She was now convinced that the religion of the American Indian is the only one in the world that truly addresses God. The flight to New York would be delayed by a few hours. After her insistence, Airline Officials deemed the hardy Oriel and crew as okay for the return to New York after a few hours sleep. As Oriel lay in bed awaiting sleep, she reviewed the events revolving about the Ute Warrior. "Obviously a vision... an actual spirit that came to guide me. But why did I keep thinking he was Alex? Also, he sat on my lap and guided the plane... hmm... perhaps I only THOUGHT he guided the plane... it was my hands... and his guidance... I only THOUGHT he was doing the piloting..." And she soon fell asleep. Leaving Germany almost three hours late, they arrived in New York at about mid-night. Usually they arrive after 9 P.M. Back in New York, Allen was VERY glad to be walking into their apartment alive and with hands intact. Mona and Oriel had saved him, their treasure. Allen soaked in the pleasure of being between the two Amazon heroines, on the same bed, in the lap of the passionate warmth of their Love! When she had the chance, Oriel also told Mona and Alex of her strange vision of the Ute Warrior. After living with the part Ute Indian Oriel for so long, both Mona and Allen knew of the Peyote ceremony, the Indian's relationship to God and lesser spirits, and the visions being involved with such a most natural way of worshiping and knowing of God can bring. Neither of the three of them leaked even the first word of the vision to anyone else. The Airline company gave Oriel and Mona the rest of the week off. They along with Saree and Chyun Lin were awarded for gallant heroism. They offered Oriel any route she wanted to fly. She stayed with her present route. Oriel wanted to stay with her crew. Especially the little Chyun Lin. She appeared so delicate, Oriel wanted to be the one to tutor her into a more confident Pilot, rather than letting her end up with some uncaring chauvinist pig for captain. Oriel had covered up to the investigators and news media, any indications of how Chyun Lin had crumbled emotionally during the ordeal. Oriel also wanted to stay with Mona. With the present route, Mona could visit her Mom during the "turn-around" stays in Riyadh. And in addition, being friends for life, and sharing Allen, Oriel did not want to see those relationships end. Besides, cases of terrorist hijackings were winding down. Perhaps because of Reagan's bombing of Libya, or the gruesome images of severed heads lolling about along with corpses in a pool of blood, or both, or maybe other reasons, hijackings seemed to declining. Those gruesome images, although censored in United States, went out by satellite to any ground station that wanted or could receive it. Libyan officials probably did see uncensored versions of those images. Such a sight can disturb even the toughest individual.