FFM 2025 24: To Escape A Plane

Challenge: Write a story of the thriller/spy genre and include some kind of escape or escape attempt. Roll a 6-sided die to determine your setting, a character you must include, a plot twist and, optionally, something to spice things up.

My rolls were plane as a setting, a detective as a character to include, Someone drops a mysterious note as the plot twist and K-pop as the thing to spice things up.

This is set somewhere around halfway of Steirdrar’s career as Infini’Republic Security Enforcer, only at the very beginning of his path to defecting.

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Urrang was fairly certain he was going to be demoted for this. He had known he was just as likely to walk into a trap as he was to get closer to his objective by following the suspicious note that one of his targets had dropped — it all depended on how successful his infiltration had been so far — but this was embarrassing. The so-called “Artists for Liberation” — propaganda-spreaders, not guerillas — should not have been able to knock him out when he had had his guard up, yet they had somehow pulled it off. To add insult to injury, his restraints were old or primitive enough for the IRS to have trained all its operatives, even those never meant to step foot on the field, to escape them and judging from the sound of the engine, he was on a plane, not a starship. How humiliating, to have been caught by a group with such low-tech resources.

Just when he had been promoted to commander too. Dammit!

…No. He had to calm himself, not let his emotions get the best of him. Since he was not leaving the planet on this vehicle, he could still salvage this mission. He just had to remain calm and focused.

From within the dark cargo compartment, it was impossible to say what model this plane was, meaning that any blueprints he knew were useless for now. His intel indicated that his targets were poorly armed but considering his current situation, he had better assume their public appearances had downplayed their capabilities. The enemy had confiscated all his weapons and tools, meaning he had no way to get information about the plane without exiting the compartment and risking getting shot. The only items with him were the restraints on him — rope and outdated cuffs. Only useful in close quarters, which required not getting shot.

The door to the compartment opened, letting the sound of music in. A head poked in. Urrang frowned, recognizing the face. “Detective Gloliar. What is the meaning of this?”

“Good morning to you too, Mister Mantl. Or should I say,” Detective Gloliar checked her tablet, “Commander Steerdrar Urrang, Infini’Republic Security Enforcer.”

Dammit… No use denying it. “It’s pronounced ‘stayrdrar’.”

Detective Gloliar rolled her eyes. “See if I care about your pronunciation guides. Now listen up, because I’m going to tell you what’s going on: our government has not sanctioned any IRS operations, especially not any that sniff around our artistic community. Our laws permit law enforcement capturing unsanctioned spies, whether they are IR-affiliated or not. We are taking you into custody and the IRS can negotiate prison transfers if they want you back before you’ve served your sentence.”

Urrang kept his face blank, masking his frustration over the fact that someone had not done their job of getting his mission sanctioned. (Then again, he had been instructed not to get caught by the local law enforcement and to escape no matter what it took if he failed at that… No, focus on the mission at hand.)

The music got louder, making Detective Gloliar turn her head away and shout, “Turn that Earthian shit down, will you? I’m having a conversation here!”

“Fuck you, Glol!” someone shouted back and upped the volume again. Urrang could now make out lyrics, not that he recognized the language. The genre sounded like it was under the pop umbrella.

Detective Gloliar turned her glare at Urrang. “Don’t even think about doing anything stupid.” She closed the door. Urrang heard her shouting — and the music — through it.

He could not allow himself to be taken into custody. Forget demotion, he would be discharged if he failed to escape.

He had to hijack the plane before it reached its destination. And he had better attempt that now, when his captors were distracted.

Urrang got himself free from the restraints in record time, gathered the rope into his hand and opened the door slightly. The peek he got revealed that it was a tiny plane, barely big enough for four people plus whoever got shoved into the cargo compartment. Detective Gloliar had her back turned to the compartment as she shouted at the pilot — the only other person he could see — two steps away from him. Easy to tackle. The pilot had their eyes focused on the sky while they shouted back at the detective.

With the music blaring louder and louder, it might even cover the sounds of his charge. And, in any case, the pilot could not shoot at him without risking crashing the plane. Assuming there was no co-pilot or anyone else that he could not see aboard, he could pull this off. Not that he had any other choice than to try.

He opened the door the rest of the way and tackled the detective. Her yowl was too loud, making both the pilot and the co-pilot startle. The co-pilot turned around, pointing their gun at him, but by that time Urrang already had Detective Gloliar as his shield, some of the rope pressing against her throat. “Gentlepeople, I have a proposal: you land this plane somewhere and let me go without a fuss, and no one gets hurt.”

“You won’t get away with this,” Detective Gloliar snarled.

Urrang pressed the rope tighter against her neck, closing her windpipe off partially. The detective thrashed but between the rope and Urrang’s grip, she could not break free.

The co-pilot said something to the pilot in the local language. At the pilot’s response, they put their gun down and kicked it away from them. “We yield. Please let Detective Gloliar go.”

“Only once we have landed.”

The pilot growled a curse but complied.

Ten Standard Minutes later, Urrang walked off the plane unharmed and with all his equipment back. The three Zzegts glared at him for as long as they could see him, not that he cared; he still had a mission to finish somehow (and superiors to answer to later, when Detective Gloliar would inevitably report him).