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Trapped on the Pelotti's
Airplane
Pablo Pelotti marched Tim
and Zito along the length of the plane, keeping his gun trained on them.
When they reached the toilet, he shoved them inside. He said something
in Portuguese which Zito understood but Tim didn't, then slammed the
door.
There was barely enough
space for both of them. Zito put down the lid of the toilet and sat
down. Tim squatted on the floor beside the basin.
Tim said, " What did he say?
The thing he said in Portuguese? What was it?"
"Nothing important," replied
Zito.
"Even if it's not important,
I'd still like to know. Tell me what he said."
Zito sighed. "He said he not
kill us now because he not want to kill us quick. He want to kill us
slow and very painful."
"That's something to look
forward to," said Tim.
Zito looked at him, puzzled.
"I no understand."
"It was a joke," said Tim.
"I was just trying to be funny."
"What is funny about painful
death?"
"If you put it like that . .
. not much."
Zito sighed. He sat on the
floor with his head in his hands. After a minute, his shoulders started
shaking. He was crying.
Tim tried to think of
something to say, but he couldn't think of anything helpful or
comforting. How could he console Zito? He knew, just as Zito did, that
things were looking pretty desperate. They were trapped in the back of a
plane. They had no weapons. They were facing three desperate, ruthless
criminals. What chance did they have?
In a minute, thought Tim,
I'll probably burst into tears too.
But he didn't. He leaned
against the wall and waited to see what would happen next.
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