Jimmy: "You'll understand all this when you get an assignment that requires you to carry a weapon on board. Most people will never need to do that."

Jimmy turned his head towards the person he had been paying attention to. His voice had lowered a bit, but the man clearly heard Jimmy's words and understood his meaning. There were now evident signs of relaxation; he could deduce that Jimmy's words had revealed his identity. Even if he was not Court Police, he was at least some sort of Federation law enforcement officer.

That's good in a way; consider it a pill of reassurance. If he remained that tense for several hours, anyone would go crazy.

After chatting with Nia for a while, Jimmy rested. A journey of more than five hours was not so easy to endure.

"Ding," the plane's announcement system made a sound, "Attention all passengers, is there a doctor on board? It's an emergency, we need help."

Jimmy was instantly alert; any accident on a plane was out of the ordinary. He looked towards the economy class area—though a curtain separated them, it didn't impair his Heart Eye Observation. Several people were gathered together, and it seemed that something had indeed happened.

Jimmy looked at the suspected agent in front of him; he, like Jimmy, was now looking towards the economy class. "Nia, I'm going to go check it out."

Jimmy got up and walked towards the economy class. It appeared that someone had an accident; two people had pulled him out of his seat into the aisle, and another person knelt down to administer first aid.

This was not something he could partake in; Jimmy was not a doctor. Although FBI training included emergency resuscitation, now was not the time for him to play the hero.

Jimmy sat back down, took a sip of mineral water, and then entered the restroom at the front.

When Jimmy came out of the restroom, a stewardess led a person to the cockpit door. After they spoke with the pilot, they entered the cockpit.

Sitting back down, Jimmy was about to continue resting when suddenly the cockpit door opened, and the stewardess came out. The door was then closed.

"Court Police Bill," said the stewardess at the door, calling out to the suspected agent Jimmy had noticed before, and then she gestured for him to come to the galley area.

Court Police, okay, that confirmed that the Bill Gates in front indeed was a Federation law enforcement officer, and specifically Court Police.

Jimmy didn't know what they were discussing, but since they sought out the Court Police, an outsider, it seemed this indeed was a bit of trouble.

Before Jimmy had time to figure out what had happened, the plane suddenly changed direction. He could definitely feel the sensation of inertia from the tilt; it wasn't time to wait for announcements anymore. He stood up and came to the galley area, showed his credentials, and said quietly, "FBI Agent Jimmy, what exactly happened?"

The stewardess, who initially tensed up when someone approached, relaxed after hearing Jimmy's words. She also spoke softly, "The man who went in just now took the pilot hostage with a knife."

Jimmy's eyes widened as he looked at the cockpit. That wasn't right; the pilot and co-pilot were sitting at the controls, yes, but there was a person standing behind them, holding a gun trained on them. What about the knife the stewardess mentioned?

Jimmy: "With a knife? How could he possibly bring a knife on board?"

Stewardess: "His phone, it concealed a ceramic knife inside."

Jimmy: "Why did you bring him to the cockpit?"

Stewardess: "Someone suddenly had a heart attack and fell unconscious. He said he was a doctor, performed CPR on the patient, and then said we needed to urgently get to a hospital, so he had to talk to the pilot to arrange for an unscheduled landing. We didn't expect that as soon as he entered the cockpit, he would take the pilot hostage with a knife."

Jimmy took a deep breath, then exhaled. This was too damn ridiculous. How could it be such a coincidence?

Jimmy: "What are his demands?"

Stewardess: "I don't know, only the pilot and co-pilot inside would know."

Court Police Bill spoke up at this moment, "Can the cockpit door be opened from the outside?"

The flight attendant: "No, to open the cockpit door mid-flight requires the pilot to operate it from the control panel."

Bill: "Has the cockpit door been bulletproofed?"

The flight attendant nodded: "After 9/11, all planes were scheduled for modification in sequence, and this plane has been retrofitted as well."

This was troublesome. The three people looked at each other, completely at a loss for what to do. With a bulletproof door and the controls inside, and the communication channels with the ground airports also in the cockpit, they were locked in the cabin, completely powerless.

Jimmy: "Let's deal with the situation in the cabin first, the sick passenger, do you remember who it was? Detain him."

The flight attendant was confused for a moment: "Why?"

Jimmy ignored her question and turned to Court Police Bill: "Bill, can you handle that person?"

Bill had thought of it too, he nodded, "What about you?"

Jimmy turned his head to look towards the cockpit: "You guys go and calm the cabin, I'll keep an eye on the cockpit here, and see if there's a way to create an opening to check on the situation inside. Also, be wary of other accomplices of theirs."

Bill followed Jimmy's gaze which was fixed on the galley cupboards; this youngster thought too much—how could that possibly be a way in.

Bill: "I understand."

Bill and the flight attendant left the galley area, heading towards economy class. Jimmy stayed behind, starting to survey the partition between the cockpit and the cabin. The cockpit door had been modified to be blast and bulletproof, fully upgraded after 9/11.

However, the problem was not a big one; since the door could not be opened, the wall might be dismantled. Under the cover of the bathrooms on each side and the galley area, ordinary people might not notice, but in Jimmy's 'Heart Eye,' the cabin wall was completely discernible, with the thinnest part being near the bathrooms.

The hijacker holding a gun stood behind the cockpit door, in the middle position behind the pilot and co-pilot; it was a completely blind spot with the door protecting his back, and he could see every move of the people in front of him clearly.

Jimmy turned his head towards economy class. Three people were slowly walking down the aisle towards the rear galley area; it must be Bill and the flight attendant. No trouble arising was a good thing—if the hijacker was alone, at least they didn't have to worry about surprise attacks from behind.

However, Jimmy was still a little tense; this was on an airplane, not the ground. If something went wrong, he was done for. The key now was to figure out how to deal with the hijacker in the cockpit. His position was too good; there was no line of fire available for Jimmy to take advantage of, and he also needed to confirm if the thinnest part of the cabin wall had any holes or similar features that would allow Jimmy to shoot.

Soon, the flight attendant came back. Jimmy asked, "Can you contact the captain? Think of some reason. We need to know the situation inside the cockpit."

The flight attendant was considering a reason, and Jimmy walked straight into the bathroom. In fact, until now, the passengers in the cabin had not caused any trouble, which meant that whatever had happened at the pilot's section, others were completely unaware; currently, probably only three or four of them knew, including Jimmy.

Looking at the equipment on the wall of the bathroom, Jimmy was a bit puzzled; he was not a structural engineer, nor had he ever dismantled equipment inside an aircraft—how was he supposed to dismantle this?

There surely weren't any special tools in this area, so Jimmy looked at the iron tissue box hanging on the wall. He returned to the galley area, "Do you have a table knife? Or something else thin and sharp?"

The flight attendant nodded and took out a bunch of various knives and forks from the drawer for Jimmy. He came in front of the tissue box and began to try to dismantle it. Fortunately, it was mainly fixed with padding and glue, so it wasn't too difficult to remove.

Jimmy was busy here, while the hijacker in the cockpit was completely unaware; he was probably very nervous, as Jimmy could see him pacing back and forth. After removing the tissue box, hidden pipes in the cabin walls were revealed, and where there were pipes, there were holes—these were the firing ports Jimmy had anticipated. Now the biggest problem was that Jimmy didn't know what these pipes were for.

If he were to make a firing port aimed at the hijacker, he would need to remove one or two of these pipes. If they were just auxiliary systems, it would be fine, but if they were critical to the aircraft's systems, that would be a disaster.

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