ONE LAST DRINK

Michael thought he was safe now that he was aboard the international flight.
As the aircraft climbed above the clouds, he settled back into his seat. For the first time all day, he allowed himself to relax.
He pressed the call button.
A beautiful blonde stewardess appeared beside him and smiled.
"A dry martini, please."
"Of course, sir."
He watched her walk towards the galley, then turned to the window. Whoever had been following him was now thousands of feet below. In a few more hours, he could begin again.
He hadn't noticed the Man's following him through the airport.
He hadn't seen that same man board the aircraft.
And he had no way of knowing that the man had since abandoned his own body.
In the galley, the hitman looked down at the stewardess's unfamiliar hands. Steady hands. Perfect for the job.
The real woman smiled easily as he prepared Michael's martini.
One final addition, and the drink was ready.
He carried it back along the aisle.
"Your martini, sir."
Michael smiled gratefully.
He had never felt safer.