Aloft in the wide blue yonder and heading for a revolution, Boysie had good reason to wonder what he was doing here.

It had all begun when the unspeakable Mostyn had conned him into setting up a cut-price flying outfit named Air Apparent, Boysie taking a fat cut for himself. So far, so good. Then boss-man Boysie hired three delectable hostess-dollies, each of whom shamelessly broke all the rules concerning employer/employee relations. So far, so - yum yum - gooder. Then nasty things began to happen, and Boysie knew he was back in Mostyn's nether-world of violence and political skullduggery.

So here he is, surrounded by a planeload of assorted customers, dollybirds, gunmen and a highly explosive cargo. Then Boysie knew what to do - he'd march purposefully on to the flight deck, wave his gun around, and hi-jack his own aircraft.