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Meg Cassidy was never much for following the crowd, but when United Airlines’s flight 7755 touched down at Cairo’s new Mubarak International Airport, she found herself caught up in the emotion of the moment and joined right in with the wave of applause that swept through the sleek new 747-400 jetliner.
She then leaned her head back against the stylish leather business-class sleeper seat and offered up a prayer of thanks. It was easily the greatest PR coup of the year. Somebody up there liked her. At twenty-seven, the attractive, blond public relations whiz kid was already being called a PR maven, and owned one of Chicago’s fastest growing and most successful agencies. Her offices were located in the swanky Beckwith Realty loft building on Hubbard Street, not far from the best seafood restaurant in town, Shaw’s Crab House. She had just purchased a new summer home on Wisconsin’s famed Lake Geneva, and Today’s Chicago Woman and Crain’s Chicago Business were planning cover stories on her within the next month. The editors had sought her out for her street smarts and business acumen, though the fact that she was a dead ringer for Meg Ryan hadn’t hurt either.
What she had accomplished was truly amazing. Competing against agencies three times their size, Meg and Cassidy Public Relations had beat out every comer to win the United Airlines local account. The first assignment they were handed was the opening of United’s new service to Cairo-the first nonstop route from Chicago to Cairo. Meg had worked tirelessly with United’s ad agency and helped to develop a fabulous campaign that included a tag line seen on billboards and buses all over town, “From the heart of America to the heart of the Middle East. No One Unites the World Like United.” But she didn’t stop there. If this was going to be a Meg Cassidy event, it had to be bigger than big.
Meg was aware of Chicago’s numerous sister cities across the globe and was able to convince the new mayor, Jim Fellinger, that Chicago needed a Middle Eastern sister city and that Cairo was the perfect choice. Once those wheels were put in motion, Meg worked tirelessly along with United’s CEO, Bob Lawrence, to make sure that United’s inaugural Chicago-to-Cairo flight would be the first plane to touch down at Cairo’s new Mubarak International Airport. And it was. In a matter of minutes, when the doors of the 747 opened, Chicago mayor Jim Fellinger would be the first to deplane, followed by United CEO Bob Lawrence to shake hands with the host of waiting Egyptian dignitaries.
Meg took a moment and let the relief flow through her. It had been seriously touch and go for a while. With the increased violence in the Middle East, United had thought about scrapping the route altogether, but Meg had hung in there. She convinced all of the players that the new route was a symbolic connection between the people of America and of the Middle East. United knew the demand was there and that the route would be profitable, but the shadow of international terrorism always hung low over the horizon and was an unspoken fact at almost every meeting. Meg had assured her clients that when they had hired her, they had hired the best and that she would make sure their PR was nothing short of exquisite-and it was.
Tickets for the flight sold well, but just to make sure it went out full, Cassidy Public Relations had developed a series of brilliant, high-profile contests for vacations to Cairo. The media exposure United had gained was far beyond anything they could have hoped for. The airline’s publicly steadfast refusal to pull out of their new route to Cairo in the face of escalating Mideast violence was hailed by peacemakers everywhere as the type of determination and commitment necessary for the world to not only live, but to thrive in peace. There was no doubt that Meg Cassidy had done an extraordinary job. Her crowning achievement was helping to coordinate a cultural exchange of Egyptian exhibits between Chicago’s Field Museum and the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. Flight 7755 was carrying several large crates of artifacts, returning to Egypt for the first time in over one hundred years.
Meg had spent a good portion of the trip in the upper-deck lounge with members of the press, including two of her favorite travel journalists, Bernard Walsh and Georgia Bormann. She had answered all of their questions, which covered everything from United’s newest routes and aircraft, to the possibility of additional cultural exchanges between the U.S. and Egypt. By the time the plane touched down, she was exhausted. She had been burning the midnight oil for two weeks straight before the kickoff flight and was looking forward to getting to her hotel, opening a bottle of wine, taking a long hot bath, and crawling into a nice, soft bed for a much deserved rest.
Her reverie was broken by the sound of a sudden commotion. What could possibly be going on? We’re almost at the gate, Meg thought to herself.
A group of men came running up both aisles from the plane’s economy section and stopped not far from Meg’s seat. One of the flight attendants had unbuckled himself and approached the men to see what was the matter.
In a flash, the mood in the plane turned from celebration to terror as one of the men attacked the flight attendant, and several of the passengers began screaming.
Two figures clad in black jumpsuits and wearing ski masks appeared on the stairwell that led from the lower-deck fitness area and began handing up a wide array of automatic weapons to the men who had run up from economy class. From the first-class section of the plane, Meg saw one of Mayor Fellinger’s Chicago police bodyguards approach. She tried to warn him with a tilt of her head toward the stairwell, but it was too late. One of the masked hijackers saw the bodyguard first, withdrew a silenced pistol and fired two shots into his head, killing him instantly.
Meg couldn’t see it, but behind her, a plainclothes sky marshal rushed up one of the aisles from the rear of the plane with his gun drawn, yelling for the men to put down their weapons. Another sky marshal drew his weapon and ran up the opposite aisle. They were subdued by two “sleeper” hijackers who had remained in their aisle seats until the sky marshals had made themselves known. The hijackers had short, black plastic-composite knives, known as CIA letter openers, which they had easily smuggled through security. With a well-rehearsed up, in, and twist motion of the knives, each sky marshal was quickly dispatched.
Now the entire plane was in bedlam. Screams of terror could be heard coming from all directions. Several of the hijackers made their way through the cabin and confiscated the onboard stun guns.
The masked hijacker who had killed the mayor’s bodyguard motioned to one of his men with his weapon. The man understood the command, pushed past the handful of flight attendants who were seeing to their fallen comrade, and activated the 747’s public address system.
In near perfect English he addressed the plane’s passengers, “Ladies and gentlemen, if you wish to make it off of this plane alive, you will cooperate fully with our instructions. We have already demonstrated how far we are prepared to go. Out of respect for the women and children, we hoped to spare you this spectacle, but no doubt you now know we are in control of the plane and are fully armed. We guarantee you that we are prepared to use our weapons. As Allah is merciful, so are we. Obey our instructions and no one else will be killed. We ask that you remain in your seats and that those of you sitting near a window lower your window shades completely.”
Though many of the terrified passengers only began to sob harder at the confirmation that the plane had been hijacked, they all complied with the instructions and those by the windows lowered their shades.