A surge of adrenaline shot through him when he glanced up into the face of a young soldier who was staring out the window. Realizing that he had a stowaway; an unpredictable situation on his hands, he carefully said, “We’ve still got about fourteen hours of flying time before we touch down at Travis Air Force Base, in California. You got a name, son?” “Yes, Sir, I’m Private First Class, Michael Winston.”His stowaway had lifted the name off one of the caskets. With the copilot out of commission, the only thing to do was to stay level-headed and buy time until he could think of a way to secure the cockpit. He nodded to the empty seat beside him, and said, “Have a seat, soldier. Fourteen hours is too long to stand.” Holding out his thermos, “You look like you could use some coffee; help yourself. There’s an extra cup in the box by the seat.”