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The staff on the plane handed out the remaining snacks, reminding us that we couldn’t stay here forever. There simply wasn’t enough food to go around. So it was a question of how long we would have to wait before something happened. The answer was not long.

A male passenger a few rows ahead of us shouted, “Look, there’s a security guard walking towards us waving his arms!”

Everyone rushed to our side of the plane and watched as the figure got closer. He had a pistol in his hand and was obviously shouting something. Of course, nobody could hear him. He put the weapon in its holster and held his arms out to his sides, smiling up at us.

“Open the emergency exit and let’s hear what he has to say,” Bernie shouted over to the steward, who had previously stopped him from trying to access the cockpit,

At last, we had some contact with the ground, and the man was wearing official clothing. A sense of relief was already rolling through the cabin. Further encouragement was given to the steward, who then mimed that he was going to talk to the captain and went towards the cockpit.

The captain appeared from the cockpit again and met the steward close to the front of the cabin. They held a hushed conversation for a couple of minutes and then both returned to the emergency exit.

The steward struggled slightly with the door, and then managed to open it, giving us our first taste of fresh air since England. The whole plane fell silent.

“What’s the situation on the ground?” The captain called down.

“Come down, everything is just fine,” the security guard seemed to reply, but I couldn’t hear him clearly.

“What’s happened? Are we all safe?” The steward shouted back.

The security guard was nodding and gesturing towards himself. I couldn’t help but wonder why he was on his own. Did he have any support? Not that it mattered, I think we were all prepared to follow his instructions, because he was the first friendly face we had encountered since landing. Who cared if he wasn’t part of a SWAT team?

The captain whispered into the steward’s ear, who nodded, and then yelled, “Stand back. I am going to deploy the slide.”

The security official gave a reassuring smile and stepped to one side. The slide made a hissing noise as it inflated.

“I will help you all at the bottom. Leave all personal items stowed and remove any shoes with heels or sharp jewellery. When it is your turn, just cross your arms over your chest and jump.”

I almost laughed. They even had instructions of how to go down an inflatable slide. The mood wasn’t quite right for laughing though, as we still didn’t have an explanation of what was really going on.

The steward jumped down and quickly slid to the bottom. I watched through the window as the security guard drew his pistol from the holster, aimed at the side of the steward’s head from point blank range, and pulled the trigger. A red spray covered the tarmac to the side of the steward and he rolled off the slide. Screams and shouts filled the cabin as everybody scrambled to get away from the exit door.

The security official didn’t even look up at us. He crouched down next to the steward and casually checked his pulse. Then without even hesitating, he pointed the pistol under his own chin, pulled the trigger, and collapsed to the ground with a twist.

“Jack, what the fuck was that?”

“You tell me. We’ve have to get off this plane, I’m not waiting around for another person like that.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Please, everybody get back in your seats and try to remain calm,” the captain pleaded through the loudspeaker, desperately trying to regain some sort of control

I could appreciate this was probably procedure, but we were past listening after what we had just seen. The plane was filled with noise and confusion, as passengers frantically checked their windows and positioned themselves away from the emergency door, which was still open.

“This is going downhill rapidly,” I said to Jack, “let’s make a break for it.”

Bernie had been listening to our conversation. He stood, pointed dramatically in our direction and shouted, “These two are military, these two, sitting right here.”

Jack grabbed Bernie’s shoulder and threw him down into a seat before whispering through gritted teeth, “Shut the fuck up.”

Unfortunately, Bernie’s shouting had attracted everyone’s attention, including the captain who now approached our seats.

“Are you an Air Marshal?” The captain said to Jack.

“No, I’m just here for a short break,” Jack protested, his face reddening. It felt like the whole plane was focusing on our seats.

“Captain, we need to get off this plane,” I said. “I suggest we form a small break-out team so we can scout the area. Jack and I will volunteer.”

We both wanted to get clear of the plane, and now we had a potential opening. There was no way of knowing where the safest place to be was, but no matter what was going on, a full plane was a large juicy target.

The captain looked dubious, “Official procedure is for everyone to stay on the plane.”

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