"Ahhh!"
Remo came out of his seat so fast his seat belt snapped in two. Chiun followed, a wraith of silken skirts.
They moved through the first-class cabin and collided with a panicky knot of flight attendants jamming the aisle.
"Back in your seats. Back in your seats, please. We have to land," one was yelling.
"Why?" asked Remo.
"Because the pilot's been stricken. But it's all right. Stay calm. The flight engineer is capable of landing the plane without help. Return to your seat, please."
Beyond the stewardess's worried face, Remo saw through the open cockpit door the pilot convulsing in his seat.
Then the copilot slapped the side of his neck-and just ahead of it danced the fat black-and-yellow honey bee with the death's-head markings, free and unscathed.
"If the flight engineer's out of action, who lands the plane?" Remo asked the stewardess urgently.
"Don't be worried. We've never lost two crew members."
"Answer my question," Remo demanded, shaking the stewardess. "Who lands the plane?"
"No one. There's just the pilot and flight engineer."
Remo set the stewardess aside like a hat rack and moved into the cramped cabin.
The pilot was slumping to one side, completely out of it. The flight engineer had one hand on the yoke. The other was fumbling about among the controls weakly.
But even from behind, Remo could see that he was going into shock.
Chapter 16
The flight engineer was definitely going into shock.
There was no question what was happening to him. He took his free hand off the yoke and grabbed his throat. He began to wheeze. His face turned a smoky reddish hue. He gasped audibly.
"Easy, fella," Remo said, reaching his side. "You got stung by a bee, that's all." Remo kept his voice calm. But the flight engineer was gasping for air now. His windpipe was closing off, like an asthmatic's.
"Stay with me," Remo urged, squeezing the man by the back of his neck to encourage adrenaline production. "The pilot's gone. You're the only one who can land the plane."
The flight engineer started to nod. The nod turned into the shaking that shivered down the length of his body and became a convulsion.
"Easy," Remo warned.
Then he saw the reddish swelling over the carotid artery on the left side of the man's neck. The bee had injected its venom directly into the man's bloodstream. There was no way to save him, Remo knew.
Meanwhile, the plane continued its screaming climb.
"He's out of it," Remo cried to Chiun.
"Where is the not-bee?" Chiun hissed, his eyes questing about the cockpit.
"Forget the bee. Someone's got to land the plane."
"You do it. I will watch the wings for signs of treachery."
"I don't know how to freaking fly a 727!" Remo exploded.
"How hard can this be?" asked the Master of Sinanju. "You have a wheel with which to steer. You know where the ground is."
"I don't know squat about flying a big bird like this."
"Where are the parachutes?" Chiun wondered aloud.
"They don't equip passenger aircraft with parachutes, Chiun," Remo said heatedly.
Chiun blew out his cheeks in indignation. "We have been cheated, for we paid full fare!"
"Never mind that, help me get these guys out of here so I can work."
Chiun bustled forward and took the blue-faced pilot by his shoulder epaulets. He pulled him back into first class, which caused no little consternation among the passengers.
A pale-faced man stood up. "Is this a hijacking?"
"No. We are only going to crash," returned Chiun thinly.
That reassured absolutely no one, although a few people did faint.
Remo slid into the pilot's seat, and drew on the earphones and mouth microphone.
"Pilot to base," Remo said.
"Say again. This is LAX Tower. Repeat message."
"This is TWA flight to Baltimore."
"Say flight number?"
"Let me get my ticket," Remo said, fumbling in his pockets. Then he remembered leaving it in his seat pocket. "Hey, Chiun what's the freaking flight number?"
"It has two zeroes in it."
"Are they in front or back?"
"Back."
"Tower, this is a flight number zero-zero," said Remo, clearing his throat on both sides of the zeroes and hoping for the best. It worked.