The fish was hard in the middle.

One would expect leasing a private jet would get them a well prepared meal, but the salmon fillet was clearly still frozen. I picked up a green bean swimming in a congealed pool of yellowy sauce. That was frigid too. 

Sighing in frustration, I plopped the bean back down. I wasn't hungry, but I needed to eat. I needed my energy for what I was on my way to do. 

Over the roar of the engines, I gestured for the flight attendant standing at the front of the plane and said, 'Excuse me.'

With her black waist-length hair and severe look, the woman made her way down the aisle. Meanwhile, I glanced out of the window and into the pitch black. I couldn't see it, but below was the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean.

'How can I help you?' the flight attendant said. She was clearly Russian.

Looking up, I replied with all the grace I could muster, 'My meal is cold.'

There was a look of annoyance on the Russian's face, as if she would rather be somewhere else. 'I will cook you another,' she said abruptly before reaching down and taking my plate.

'Never mind,' I replied. 'Do you have any peanuts or pretzels?'

'I'll see. Would you like some more water?'

I hadn't touched my drink since she gave it to me. Surely she could see that. 'I'm fine thank you.'

'You should drink water, Miss Vance. It's good for you.' The Russian bowed and walked off.

Turning back to the darkness, slightly bewildered at her comment, I thought of my parents. Wait a minute. Did she just call me by my real name? A name she shouldn't know.

My eyes shot to the front as adrenaline rushed through me. He knows I'm coming for him. I then glared at my glass of water before giving it a sniff. Almonds. Cyanide.

Carefully, and as I got up from my chair, I grabbed my knife and tucked it behind my back.

The Russian was rummaging around in a cabinet when she heard my advance, instantly spinning around. 'Yes?'

'Poisoning people is very cowardly,' I said, wagging my finger.

The Russian smiled and swiftly proceeded to tie her hair up in a bun. 'You die now.'

With quick reflexes, I sidestepped her attacked and drove my knife right into her neck, sending blood spurting everywhere. Her body went down with a loud thump on the floor. 'What were you saying?'

Suddenly, the cockpit door swung open and the tall co-pilot appeared. He looked at me in complete shock before glancing down at my handy work.

'Hey, she tried to kill me first,' I said, wiping blood from my brow.

The co-pilot soon wore a growl and it was my turn to be shocked.

'You, too,' I puffed as the man grabbed a glass from close by and broke it over his thigh, making the end he was holding jagged and sharp.

Waving the weapon around, the co-pilot lunged at me, all the while screaming like a mad man.

My roundhouse kick caught him flush in the face and he buckled to his knees. I finished him off with a fist right to the back of his head, the sound of his skull cracking panging through the noise of the plane. 

As I stood back up straight, someone else had emerged into the fold. It was the pilot. Having to duck down to fit inside the cabin, he was massive.

'Seriously,' I said to him, surprised, before realizing something. 'But if you're in here, who's flying the plane?'

My question was only answered with a grunt.

Puffing, I gave myself a running start before launching myself into the air, feet first. My shoes connected with his head but it was as if he was made of stone.

Landing back down, I continued to target his face, this time using it as a punching bag. But still nothing. His fist then flew at my chest and I was thrown back like a rag doll, finding myself on top of the Russian. I took hold of the bloody knife still stuck in her neck and yanked it out before flipping over.

The pilot was now hovering over me.

I wasn't proud of what I did next, but you got to do what you got to do. I kicked him hard in the groin. He felt that all right. And he collapsed right onto my knife.

'Now,' I said to myself, 'let's go see if I can fly this thing.'