Chapter 13: Skyjacked

The psychopathic-looking man, Michael Warren, moved with lightning speed, seizing the flight attendant and deliberately wounding her. Crimson blood flowed from the wound, shocking the other crew members and causing some passengers to scream in terror. 

"Shut up, you idiots!" Warren hissed, his face contorted in a menacing sneer. Suddenly, three mysterious figures emerged from the corners of the cabin, their faces blank and cold. One of them casually unbuckled his belt. Confusion rippled through the passengers. Katon wondered if they were there to stop the psychopath or if they were his accomplices. 

The man with the belt nonchalantly grabbed a passenger's water bottle, emptying it onto the unbuckled belt in his hand. Abruptly, the silver belt snapped taut, transforming into a gleaming sword. 

"What the...?" Katon thought, startled, as the other passengers gasped. 

"Stay quiet and seated, and everything will be fine. Anyone who moves will get hurt!" he threatened, while the other two men walked past the crew area and the psychopathic man holding the senior flight attendant hostage. 

Katon sank into his seat. They were in cahoots. Moreover, the remaining hijacker did the same as his companions, and now the third man held a similar sword. 

"Sir, what are you doing? Your actions endanger the other passengers." A flight attendant tried to take control. The stocky man walking towards him landed a punch on the flight attendant's face, sending him reeling, clutching his nose. The man grabbed the manifest from the crew's worktable, read it, and headed towards first class. 

"Trying to be a hero? Come on, big bro. I'll send you down wrapped in the American flag!" Warren sneered at the injured flight attendant, ignoring his captive, who was doubled over in pain. Warren grinned maliciously and followed the man into first class. 

Katon and Morgan, sitting side by side, exchanged a look, their eyes communicating. They knew they were in a dangerous situation. Silence might save them, but their consciences wouldn't allow them to ignore the danger. 

Meanwhile, in first class, a wealthy-looking man sat quietly. The commotion in economy hadn't reached him yet. The middle-aged man approached by the hijackers' boss was a diamond mine owner in Indonesia, their target. The stocky, cold-faced man approached the man in the dark, expensive suit, reading a newspaper. 

"Isn't it a fine day? Meeting you here, Mr. Teguh Putra." 

The middle-aged man looked up, surprised. "Do I know you?" he asked, folding his newspaper. 

"Of course not. But you'll soon understand my purpose," he said, handing over a slip of paper. Teguh Putra's face registered confusion. It was a bank account number he recognized as Swiss. 

Teguh Putra analyzed the situation. An unknown, ruthless-looking man handed him a bank account number, and another, equally menacing man stood nearby. Only one thought came to mind. 

"What's this? Extortion? Don't be foolish. Do you think I travel alone?" Teguh Putra scoffed. Immediately, two men stood behind Teguh Putra. 

"You should be smarter than that. Read it carefully, sir. And give us what we want, and everything will be under control," the boss hijacker said calmly. Teguh Putra narrowed his eyes, looking at the paper again. His expression hardened. 

The hijackers threatened to kill him if his guards resisted. The middle-aged man saw Warren's murderous grin and the glint of a similar sword hidden behind his back. 

Weighing his options and the unarmed state of his guards, Teguh Putra raised his hand, signaling his bodyguards to sit down. He needed to think. 

"What are your demands?" Teguh Putra asked, his face grim but his voice steady. 

"Transfer $150 million to this account," the boss hijacker said. Teguh Putra paused, his eyes thoughtful, his hand crumpling the paper. He needed to negotiate. His instincts as a seasoned businessman kicked in, searching for a way out. 

"That's impossible. You're expecting too much," he said softly, his face blank. He kept his voice low to avoid provoking Warren, his blank expression showing he wasn't easily intimidated. There was always a win-win solution for a businessman. 

"No money? Relax, sir. We're flexible. We'll take bond shares," the boss hijacker chuckled, mirroring Teguh Putra's expression as if discussing business. The second option was more difficult, involving more parties. The boss hijacker was no ordinary criminal; he knew how to corner Teguh Putra. 

While Teguh Putra thought, the boss hijacker sat in the empty seat next to him, arrogantly crossing his leg. 

"It'll take time. I need time to gather that much money and send it to you, sir," Teguh Putra said, shaking his head, implying it was pointless to rob him now. 

The boss hijacker laughed, a harsh, unpleasant sound, prompting Warren to grin menacingly at Teguh Putra, twirling his blood-stained sword. Teguh Putra understood the threat and the consequences of resistance.