Someone must have seen and recognized him because the police and what looked like Homeland Security were at his front door. His first impulse was to run out the back door. And run as fast and as far as he could. But, it occurs to him that they probably have people surrounding the house.

As he walks toward the front door, he glances in the mirror next to the steps and glares at his reflected image. He sees a reflection of himself that looks like an old man with white hair and a white mustache, and white stubble on his face. The lines on his face look deep and ancient, as if they had adorned his face for a long, long time. He hoped that his present appearance would throw them off. He had a reputation for being the best man for this particular job of concealing his identity. 

The men at the door began to bang harder and louder. Then he hears someone shout. “Open the door. We know you’re in there. You have thirty seconds to comply, or we will knock on your door. Take your pick.”

He walks ever so slowly to the front door and then begins coughing as hard as possible. He says, “I’m coming as fast as I can.” He grasps the door knob and unlocks the door, and pulls the door open. He sees before him what looks as if two men are standing there, glaring at him and brandishing weapons. They look like they meant business. And they weren’t going to put up with a whole lot of bologna. He puts an expression of absolute terror on his face. And put his right hand over his heart as if he would die of a heart attack at any moment.

The man at the front door was armed and looked dangerous as hell. The man said as loudly as he could?“Drop your weapons down, and put your hands over your head. Your under arrest.”

“Who are you looking for? I just moved into this home a few weeks ago. The young man I rented this home from moved to Puerto Rico temporarily. He said he wouldn’t be returning for another eight months or so.”

“ Show us your ID right now, and don’t try anything funny.”

“ Try anything funny? Is this some kind of joke? I’m eighty years old. What am I going to do? Run away? I need a nap after I shower and put my work clothes on. I can barely walk. Just who do you think I am anyway? I’ll get my ID. Just wait a minute. I’ll be right back. It’s on the kitchen table. I left it there last night because of a doctor’s appointment this morning. You must be at the wrong address or something. This is insane. Maybe I need to contact my lawyer. Oh, no, he’s not a criminal lawyer. He handles my investments. I think I’ll call him anyway to get the name of a criminal lawyer.”

“Buddy, you ain’t going anywhere except to prison. Stick your hands out in front of you. We need to cuff you. You can call your tax attorney or whoever you want to once you have been morandized and are in our official care. Now, stick your hands out right now.”

At that moment, the old man steps forward, and in the blink of an eye, he kicks both police in the cojones. And left them breathless in a heap on the front step. He pulls a weapon out of his pocket and shoots them both without a second thought. They were still alive, but probably not for long. He wacks them on their heads. They wouldn’t be getting up any time soon, but just in case, he shoots them both at close range a bullet to the head.

He needs to get his shit together and get the hell out of Dodge before the neighbors start calling in the Marines on him. He quickly runs upstairs and throws on his clothes. Gets his weapons and his getaway bag which includes money and various fake IDs. He had been through this many times. So, he knew what he was doing.

Two minutes later, he drags their lifeless bodies into the living room and shoves them into the hall closet. Five minutes later, he’s backing his getaway car out of his garage. None of his neighbors had ever seen the car because he kept it hidden for such an occasion.

He spends the next forty-five minutes driving in the bumper-to-bumper traffic to the Philadelphia airport. He decides to go to the Philadelphia International Airport and get on the next available flight to Toronto, Canada. And then travel on to Argentina. He’s fluent in Spanish, so he wouldn’t have any problem communicating. He also had several international contacts that would be more than happy to assist him in his escape from justice.

Fourteen hours later, he arrives in Argentina, where he plans to meet with business contacts he had established many years ago. During his long flight, he grows restless and stands up and walks up and down the aisle. He notices someone at the front of the plane in First Class. He opens the door to use the bathroom, and while he is making use of the facility, he realizes who his fellow passenger is in First Class. So, now he went from being up in Deep Shit to an even worse Shit’s Creek.

He decides he needs to shift gears and ensure the passager doesn’t recognize him. However, he was still in Old Man mode. He decides to change his look altogether. It was a good thing he brought and hid all his other fake ID’s with him. Because it was not out of the realm of possibility that the man would recognize him, so, he had two choices go into the deep cover or get rid of this guy altogether and make it look like an accident.

He decides that it would be better not to call any further attention to himself. In addition, he didn’t doubt for a minute that the Stewardess’ would notice if suddenly there was a new and unfamiliar passenger sitting in his seat. He decides to ask for a blanket and a pillow and pretend to take a long nap. And perhaps the man would not recognize him with his eyes closed and under a blanket. Just in case he planned on being ready for whatever came his way. Be it friend or foe.

Several hours later, he was suddenly awakened by a loud noise like a gun being fired in a closed space, and then there was a noise and alarms going off inside the plane. He is immediately on high alert. He looks around in every direction. He still doesn’t have any clue as to what is happening. Then, he hears a second shot. It seems to be coming from the cockpit. In a flash, he understands that the plane is being highjacked. He chuckles to himself. And says, “ I guess I’m not the only bad guy. And then he has a flash of insight. I know exactly what I should do, he says aloud.

Everyone else has their heads down as low as they can go. Some of the people are squatting in the space where they usually put their feet. And somehow, they have compressed themselves to save their own lives. He thinks, what a pathetic bunch of losers. He has always hated common people, who barely scraped by in their pathetic, pointless lives. If he could, he would kill every one of them. And at that moment, he realizes what he should do to escape this predicament.

He was sitting in the first-class area. And he was the first one to be escorted. In fact, he had one of the airport employees push him in a wheelchair to the gangway before any of the passengers were allowed on. No one ever expected a decrepit old man to be a threat to anyone. So, he was alone in first class, and while he was there, he had placed a small, disassembled but deadly handgun taped to the toilet in first class. He starts moaning and groaning until someone comes to assist him. He begs to be allowed to go to the toilet. “Please, please, I need to go right now. I think I left my medication in there when I first arrived. I am having cardiac symptoms. I’ll die without it. Please.”
“Alright, sir. But you are doing this at your own risk. There is a problem in the cockpit, be aware and get back to your seat as soon as possible.”

So, he gets out of his seat and hunches over, and ever so slowly makes his way to the first-class toilet. He quietly opens the door and makes his way inside. He retrieves the parts of the gun and quickly reassembles it. He slowly and silently opens the bathroom door. He hears loud voices from the cockpit, and then a shot rings out. He waits. He looks down the aisle to see how many people are missing from their seats. There are two missing.

He waits. The door from the cockpit swings open, and two armed men come out with the crew and shove them down to the floor. They look a little worse for wear. It appears as if the captain didn’t give in immediately, and his face suffered the consequences as he is sporting a black eye and a broken nose. And one of his front teeth is missing.

He wonders whose flying the plane. He considers his next step one. He starts moaning and groaning. And then yells out, “Help, help. I’m having a heart attack. He keeps moaning. One of the highjackers tells him to “shut the hell up, or I’ll put you out of your misery for the rest of your miserable life.”

He moans loudly again and stumbles down the aisle to where the highjackers are situated. One of them comes at him with murder in his eyes. “what the hell do you think you are doing, old man? Get back in your seat.”

I need help. I can’t get up. So, the highjacker grabs ahold of his shoulder, and as that is happening, our hero of the day shoves his little gun onto the neck of the highjacker and silently blows his head off. In fact, it was so quiet that no one even looked in their direction. He heads to the cockpit again. He stands as close to the door as possible and taps on it repeatedly, and whispers at the top of his voice,” I need help; the passengers are out of control. One of them has a gun and killed someone.”

The next thing he knew, the door flew open, and He said, “Help me, help me. I’ve been shot. The highjacker said, “Get back to your seat, or you won’t live to see another day.” And that is when He silently raised his pistol and shot him right in the temple above his left eye. And the highjacker fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

The day was saved, and all the passengers stood up and clapped their hands. Clearly, they didn’t know what was going on other than the highjackers were done for. They didn’t know who this old man was, and they didn’t care. The pilot headed back on course and headed toward the nearest airport. He returned to his seat like nothing happened and waited for the plane to land. Twenty minutes later, they landed, and after about half an hour, all the passengers filed out one by one. No one even questioned the Old Man, and he silently and, as he left the plane, shoved the disassembled gun into the nearest seat in the pocket of the seat in front of it.

Just another day in the life of an unassuming old man nobody noticed or cared about. He had work to do today, and he was anxious to finish it so he could go back home and live his life, dull though it was. Life goes on, after all.

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