The seaplane settled into the water. The shoreline was tranquil, brilliant and sandy. A figure emerged from the aircraftís bosom and eased his legs into the clear bay. The black luggage held high, he arrived onto the beach with little wake. That same briefcase holder re-fired the engines and embarked carefree moments later.
The assassinís makeshift plan was brutal but effective. However, the passenger a few meters from the cockpit was unaware of the killerís timed poison drugging. Fortunately, it would be two more long hours until the pilotís final breath of air. The stowaway would survive because the pontoon upon which he clenched would break off at the proper low altitude to leave him in one piece.
There was no survival shortcut on the water.
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