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"A dime for your thoughts."
Lisa Goodall looked up from her tightened seatbelt at Connor Watson, who was staring at her with a sly smile. "Isn't it supposed to be 'a penny for your thoughts'?"
"Inflation's made a comeback," he replied with an unchanged expression.
Madison McCormick gave Watson a hard stare. "Is that how it works: once we're on our way, you start in with the flirting?"
"Something like that. You know we've got a whole planet to fill when we reach it."
"Yes, it is something like that, isn't it?" Lisa turned to her right, to a Matthew Katzberg who happened to be assigned a seat adjacent to hers, and pulled his face to her own.
The makeout session ended as abruptly as it had begun when
the John Glenn lurched suddenly and forcefully to the left.
"No talking!" one of the hijackers screamed.
Bettmann's new neighbor, crammed against him in the small space packed with the one hundred captives on board Flight Seven-seven-seven, stopped whispering to the agent that, despite the fact that they were not headed back to the coast and possible landmark targets, they should at least try to overpower the hijackers and perhaps foil whatever plot those hijackers had in mind. Bettmann's shoulders slumped with relaxation as he realized he had been saved from having to deny his fellow passenger's desire to escape their helpless situation one way or the other.