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“What are you doing in the middle of my operation?” he demanded.

The prisoner kept his mouth shut.

Fine, Wilson thought. We’ll do it your way. He hadn’t expected the man to crack without a little persuasion. He pulled a semiautomatic pistol from beneath his jacket and placed the muzzle against the man’s head. The prisoner flinched, but remained silent. Wilson decided to up the ante. He raised his voice so that all three prisoners could hear him even through their hoods.

The men remained silent. Bane’s goons were loyal, Wilson would give him that. He would have to push harder.

Time for a little sleight of hand...

He fired his weapon out the door, the sharp report of the gun blasting through the wailing wind. The SAD guys yanked the stubborn prisoner back into the plane, and then clubbed him with a baton before he could make a sound. In theory, the other two prisoners would think that their comrade was dead and thrown overboard.

We are nothing,” the man replied. “We are the dirt beneath your feet. And no one cared who I was, before I put on the mask.”

Whoa, Wilson thought, caught off guard. A peculiar mixture of excitement and apprehension got his heart racing. Did he just say what I think he said?

“If I pull this off, will you die?”

“It would be extremely painful,” Bane answered.

Good to know, Wilson thought. He had no sympathy for the ruthless mercenary. Bane was a bad guy who deserved to suffer. “You’re a big guy.”

“For you,” Bane clarified.

A chill ran down Wilson’s spine, but he tried not to show it. It was important to remain in control of the interrogation.

“Crashing this plane.” Bane rose slowly to his feet. “With no survivors.”

An armed man suddenly appeared outside a window, thousands of feet above the ground. Startled, one of the guards spun toward the window, but not quickly enough. Shots rang out from opposite directions as a pair of snipers fired through windows. Glass shattered and Wilson’s men dropped to the floor. Blood and chaos spilled throughout the cabin. Death amended the flight plan.

No! Wilson thought. This can’t be happening! I’m in charge here!

I didn't say stop

I’m in charge here!

The CIA man clutched onto a seat to keep from falling, but dead and wounded soldiers plunged through the upended cabin, plummeting past Dr. Pavel, who remained strapped to his seat. The frantic scientist tried to process these unexpected disasters, but things were happening too fast.

I knew it, he despaired. I shouldn’t have tried to flee. There was no escape for me. Not from Bane.

Bane snapped the handcuffs as though they were cheap plastic toys. Opening his legs, he released his grip on the chair and dropped with remarkable agility down the cabin, somersaulting through the air until he reached Pavel, at which point he thrust out his arms to halt his controlled descent. He clearly knew just what he was doing—and what he wanted.

Pavel’s eyes widened in fear

A deafening explosion tore off the rear door of the cabin, nearly giving him a heart attack. Acrid white smoke instantly filled the cabin. Bane’s men dropped into the plane through the smoke, suspended on cables. Pavel watched anxiously, uncertain what was happening.

Was Bane here to kill him—or save him?

A heavy object was lowered into the cabin. A body bag, Pavel realized. Bane laid it out atop the backs of the seats next to Pavel. Is that for me? the scientist wondered.