[ WP ] Malaysia Airlines Flight MH370 lands in Beijing Airport , 3 Months late - passengers claim to have flown as normal .

I looked around. Two hundred and thirty-eight pale, shaken and frightened faces looked back. 
 
 “ You all understand, don ’ t you? When we land, *nothing happened*. As far as we know, the plane left Kuala Lumpur exactly on time, we ’ ve been flying for six hours, and there was *absolutely nothing unusual* in any way about the flight. ” 
 
 One elderly Chinese gentleman stepped forth. He spoke in very broken English, but I was able to make it out. 
 
 “ Family. My. Will ask…questions. Government will question. Neighbors will question. Many people. Asking many questions. Can not lie to everyone. ” 
 
 “ We have to. No other choice. ” 
 
 “ No. No. I answer. I lie. You Answer. You lie. Our lies…not the same. ” 
 
 I nodded. It was a real risk. Even the tiniest slip up could….we couldn ’ t dwell on it. 
 We spent six painstaking hours reconstructing every second of the flight. 
 
 The Americans ended up sleeping. Made their story easier. The two Iranian kids was hard – we owed them everything and would have to pretend we didn ’ t know about their desperate flight to Europe. The family in Row 7 – we were lifelong friends now preparing to never see each other again. 
 
 We can ’ t risk even the slightest indication that we are anything but two hundred and thirty nine unrelated strangers crammed into the same metal tube for a burning and completely normal six-hour flight. No contact to ever betray us. 
 
 The plane will land exactly three months, two days and eight hours late. No-one on board will claim anything was amiss during the flight. 
 
 The media interest will die down with two weeks. We should get through the movie and book deals in a year. Documentaries will lose interest after three years. Three years is how long we have to avoid attention. 
 
 Then it ’ s just a case of staying quiet until we die. If just one of us slips up and lets out the truth…then it starts the questions. And some poor, brilliant fool will ask the right question at the right time for the wrong reasons. 
 
 Pray to whatever deity you believe in that the question is never again uttered anywhere on the planet. 
 
 There was a jolt, a familiar yet alien twisting of space and time. The pilot took one last look at me. I turned and walked towards my seat, hearing the radio call begin behind me. 
 
 “ *Ah, Beijing Tower, this is M-H Three-Seven-Zero…* ” 

