In 1972 I was waiting patiently in Los Angeles airport for my plane. I sat gazing out at the northern sky then turned my attention to the other passengers as they fidgeted with their tickets and baggage. Now and again some would glance out at the aircraft on the tarmac. A young boy with long black hair was running around in and out of the seats shooting everyone with a realistic looking cap pistol. I smiled as I wondered what I would have done if I were on the previous flight. You see; just one-hour earlier flight 006 to London had been hijacked. Taken by Islamic terrorists...
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