Oct 13, 2026 · 46 min · 13 segments
🎧 **KILLER CARGO | Act One | Written by Heather Foster** Christmas Eve. Springfield, Missouri. One luxury jet. One secret shipment. One spectacularly bad idea. For flight attendant Anita…
Kevin Powers, 35, cock of the walk wannabe, rests in the co-pilot seat.
State-of-the-art flat screens blaze across his douchey face.
He gazes at the lights illuminating the runway against the inky black sky.
Kevin loves this job, mostly because he feels it makes him better than everyone else.
He does dig the view, though.
Right outside the door, Anita Fitzgerald, 28, hardworking, poised, with a sprinkle of daddy issues, bends over, buffing a minuscule smudge out of the hand-carved mahogany wood.
Kevin twists around to watch her work.
This view's pretty terrific, too.
Hey, Anita.
Did you have a chance to think about that charity dinner?
She straightens, turns, and challenges his ogling.
I believe I'm busy that night.
I didn't say what night it was.
Anita's way out of his league, but Kevin's the only one who doesn't seem to know this.
She shoots him a you poor thing smirk.
Kevin, I said I'm busy.
The sound of footsteps pulls her attention to the main door.
Her eyes crinkle into a genuine smile.
Oh, good evening, Captain.
Charles Song, 53, silver fox, steps in, removes his cap, and gallantly nods to her.
Good evening, Anita.
[laughs]
Kevin Powers, 35, cock of the walk wannabe, rests in the co-pilot seat.
State-of-the-art flat screens blaze across his douchey face.
He gazes at the lights illuminating the runway against the inky black sky.
Kevin loves this job, mostly because he feels it makes him better than everyone else.
He does dig the view, though.
Right outside the door, Anita Fitzgerald, 28, hardworking, poised, with a sprinkle of daddy issues, bends over, buffing a minuscule smudge out of the hand-carved mahogany wood.
Kevin twists around to watch her work.
This view's pretty terrific, too.
Hey, Anita.
Did you have a chance to think about that charity dinner?
She straightens, turns, and challenges his ogling.
I believe I'm busy that night.
I didn't say what night it was.
Anita's way out of his league, but Kevin's the only one who doesn't seem to know this.
She shoots him a you poor thing smirk.
Kevin, I said I'm busy.
The sound of footsteps pulls her attention to the main door.
Her eyes crinkle into a genuine smile.
Oh, good evening, Captain.
Charles Song, 53, silver fox, steps in, removes his cap, and gallantly nods to her.
Good evening, Anita.
[laughs]
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