My Father My Hero

Here We Go Again

It was a warm afternoon. One of the warmest the English had seen in over a decade. It was a Monday and James found himself in the departure hall of London City Airport. Most of James' colleagues would be attending lectures at the moment but he was not. His parents had pulled him out of school for the month. Off on vacation was the excuse and it was no lie. The Forrests were going off to Guam for a 'relaxing getaway'. They were going to 'heat up so they could cool down'. These were a few of Mr. Forrest's attempts at selling the idea. None of these worked on James. He still disliked spending so much time with these people. They took every chance they got to drag him close to them and be with him.

These were not James' biological parents obviously. His real mom was dead and James partly wished his father had followed suit. These were foster parents assigned to him when his dad decided to go insane, very nearly succeed at killing his own son and then dissappear with no trace.

Mr Alvin Forrest was an accountant for a nursery school. He handled all their financial affairs. His wife, Dana, was a part time school teacher at the same nursery. Its not that they needed the money she brought in- Alvin's job was more than enough- she was just the type of person who loved children and loved to help out. This was the reason they volunteered to be foster parents. They weren't expecting such a big baby but after hearing the story the N.C.A. made up for him, they couldn't say no. The Forrests were cool and all but they were trying too hard. They were too clingy. Just like James' ex girlfriend Hannah.

"Business class passengers for flight 027 from London to Guam begin boarding at boarding gate G37"
That was their call and they headed towards the gate.
As the elevator doors closed, something caught James's eye. Just for a spilt second. It was a familiar face. A face in a pilot's suit but a face he had seen before. Maybe once on another one of his parents' many trips. The doors met and the elevator moved downwards.
The plane was chilly. The refined, conditioned substance that passed for air on Emirates flights was all around. The normal buzz of passengers locating their seats, shoving luggage into the overhead compartments and that one passenger frightened by flight, who for some reason was always present, being reassured that it is the safest way to travel. Everything was being its normal boring self.
As though trying, and failing, to break the code of uniformity, the familiar bell of the intercom system rang through the pathways."Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen."

James swore. He spat out the vile word with hatred in his eyes recieving looks of disenchantment from his 'parents'.

"This is your captain speaking, we will be experiencing minor delays due to some bad weather coming in from the north. However, do not be alarmed,it should pass within the hour and we will be on our way as and when it does."

It's not that James had any problems with flights or pilots, just this one.
The voice was familiar. He had heard it before. On what was by far the worst day of his life. Yes. This was the man with the vanquish.
James was up and heading for the doors. He just managed to reach one when the whoosh of decompression was heard and the cabin was depressurised. This meant the doors were sealed. There was no way out. He returned to his seat and tried to calm himself.
"After all, it could just be a man with a similar voice,"he thought.
Then he remembered. The face. The familiar face he had overlooked. The voice belonged to the face and the face belonged to the man who had chased him and very nearly killed him. And the face was a pilot. His pilot. This could not be a coincidence and this could not end well.
The man could not crash the plane. Could he? Of course not; that would be suicide and the co-pilot would prevent it. James let this thinnest of strings of hope keep him calm.

The seven hundred pound Mont Blanc watch he had recieved from his parents on his birthday, told James that it was nine pm. This meant that he had been on the flight for north of six hours and they would be arriving in Dubai for their transfer to Guam. Most other passengers on board were asleep but James couldn't even if he wanted to. He couldn't take the risk. There was, potentially, a contract killer in the driving seat. For a while, he thought to inform an air hostess but what good would that do. Even if she did believe his story, which was most unlikely, what could be done?

"Hey James, go to bed. You need the rest."Both Forrests were up. It was Alvin who had spoken.
"Yeah," Dana agreed,"go to sleep.

The cockpit door opened. From right up it business class, the family spotted a pilot walk out. A long streaking smile strewn across his face. James tensed. He walked up to them.
"Good evening." He greeted. "Enjoying the flight?"
There was a certain oddnes to his voice. A mix of accents that was not audible from the intercom.
"Yes we are." Mrs Forrest spoke.
"Good. I'm just checking on any insomniacs on board. Even they have to feel at home."
"Of course. But we don't have any trouble sleeping." Mr. Forrest informed. James was completely silent through all this. It was the man. James wished he could tell them. But he still did not know fully what this man was capable of and stayed silent. Alvin continued, returning the pilot's smile,"We would not want to waste any more of your time."
Dana went on for him,"Thank you and goodbye."
"Goodbye." He said. And shot them both.