KENNEDY INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NEW YORK.
EXT: AIRPORT RUNWAY - DAY
On a cold October day. a cargo jet taxis, then lifts off the runway, headed east over the Atlantic.
INT: AIRCRAFT COCKPIT- DAY
The CAPTAIN makes a quick scan of the instrument panel and is convinced that the flight will be another routine one. He places his headset on the outboard console and nods to the CO-PILOT as he stands, then leaves the cockpit.
CAPTAIN
It’s your plane, guy. I’m going
to have a look at our cargo.
CO-PILOT
Roger Captain. I’ve got it.
INT: AIRCRAFT CARGO SPACE
The CAPTAIN ducks out of the cabin, and heads toward a single piece of cargo that takes up most of the interior cargo space. A quick check tells him that the cargo is secure. He notices the lone crate is marked “SHIP TO: TRANSCOR FRANKFURT.” He re-enters the cockpit and takes control of the aircraft.
CO-PILOT
Well, how’s it look, Captain?
CAPTAIN
Looks fine to me. Ever heard of Transcor?
CO-PILOT
Can’t say as I have. Oh well, let’s get
there and get home.
The CAPTAIN’s nostrils flinch at the putrid aroma of bitter almonds. His legs thrash violently as he jerks his head from side to side until, finally with a relieving silence, his head lay still. The CO-PILOT dies more quickly, his lifeless body slumps over the controls as the aircraft goes into a steep power dive.
Seconds before impact, a gray canister comes to rest against the CAPTAIN'S motionless shoe.
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