It was her fifth time through before she finally made it to the cockpit. Two men were at the controls, and a third asleep in the corner. She raised her pistol before they could reach their weapons, and they eyed her suspiciously. "You a spy?" one of them yelled, the propellers nearly drowning out his voice. Neither of them looked overly frightened. And why should they? she thought with a twisting sensation in her gut. She didn't feel frightening, even with a gun in her hand. She felt like a fool.

A photo taped to the console caught her eye. "That your home?" she yelled. It might have been a postcard, so lovely was the bright morning view of the sea. One of them nodded. "Good," she cried. "Keep your eyes on that."