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found several cases that matched the other camo cases. He put them aside, in their own pile, and continued to seek what else could be of use.
    He unzipped a large black duffle and found neatly stacked T-shirts, boxers, socks, and green army-issue pants inside. He pulled out a pair of pants and held them up. Might be a little big, but looked long enough. He looked over to the others and saw they were still busy digging through their own stacks of luggage. Quickly, Collin pulled off his football pants, jockstrap and cup, and pretty rank-smelling jersey. He then pulled on the clean boxers, T-shirt and army pants. He found a belt for the pants in the duffel, as well as a pocketknife, a small first-aid kit, and a pair of well-used boots.
    The boots were a pretty good fit. He checked the duffle one more time — he ’ d almost missed the most important item … a set of small keys tucked into a side pocket — the kind used for unlocking weapon hard cases. Collin suspected the duffle, and the clean clothes he was wearing, were owned by the same person owning the set of gun cases.
    Collin ’ s attention was pulled away when he heard other voices entering the dimly lit cargo hold. Two were unmistakable — Humphrey ’ s and Darren ’ s. Shit. There was no way he was going to hand over more firepower to those two idiots.
    Collin hunched down lower, doing his best to keep out of sight. But it was too late — Darren was quickly making his way through the stacks of suitcases.
    “ He ’ s over here, ” Darren yelled back over his shoulder, picking up his pace.
    Collin tried the first of the keys on the small hard case. Not the right key. He fumbled to get the second key into the lock. It worked. He turned the lock and opened the lid. Inside were three secured handguns — two Glocks, similar to the one Humphrey was carrying around, and a Beretta. One by one, he checked the weapons — all unloaded. That made sense. Collin was pretty sure there were strict airline transport regulations for firearms. Noticing the various official-looking tags affixed to the case ’ s handle confirmed as much. Fortunately, the weapons ’ magazines were stored in the box as well.
    “ There you are … what are you doing hiding back here, Sticks? ” Darren asked.
    Collin didn ’ t look up until he heard the other voice.
    “ Step the fuck away from that, Sticks, ” Humphrey demanded, his voice deep and threatening. He was two paces behind Darren and was reaching for the Glock at the back of his pants.
    Collin, still holding the Beretta in his right hand, grabbed the matching magazine with his left. He slipped the clip into the butt of the handle, locked it home with the heel of his palm, then pulled the slide and chambered a round.
    Collin brought the gun up and pointed it directly at Humphrey ’ s forehead. Humphrey had his gun out but hadn ’ t had time to aim.
    “ Don ’ t! ” Collin said.
    Humphrey froze.
    “ Hey, man, we ’ re all on the same side, ” Darren said, holding his palms up in a gesture of friendship. He smiled and turned back to Humphrey. “ Put your gun away, Humphrey. Let ’ s keep things cool here. ”
    Humphrey hesitated, then did as he was told. Collin debated whether to relieve Humphrey of his weapon but decided, instead, to just keep a close eye on him.
    “ So, ah … what have you got there, Frost? ” Darren asked, his eyes locked on the open hard case and the other handguns lying in front of Collin.
    “ A way to defend ourselves. That is, other than Sheriff Humph there and his Glock. ”
    It started with a wobbling motion. Collin reached out for something, anything, to grab on to. The cargo hold began to tilt — the far tail section dropped as the nose section, where they were standing, rose up several feet. Everyone was thrown to the floor. Sounds of bending and twisting metal increased, soon culminating in a loud crash. Everything came to a shuddering stop. The sounds — the tilting of the plane ’ s