The Ride of the Valkyries played in Robert’s headphones as the helicopter lifted from the top of the building and took flight. It was the closest he could get to living out his fantasies and a wonderful Apocalypse Now moment.
He checked that his three passengers were strapped in and gently eased back the joystick, swiftly gaining height.
“All comfortable back there?” he inquired.
They hadn’t mastered the microphones on their headsets but he saw them nodding. He spied their expensive suits and flashes of ostentatious jewellery on their podgy fingers. He guessed they were either investment bankers or foreign diplomats.
At peace here above the city, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. After a few words with the air traffic controller, he was clear to leave the city airspace.
Wagner gave way to Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony.
The three suits in the passenger seats smiled, relaxed, enjoying the ride.
Robert remembered all the 000s he’d verified from the substantial deposit to his bank account, took another deep breath and squeezed the button.
The explosion was heard from miles around.
There were no survivors.
Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly Flash Fiction challenge that I’m proud to participate in. As I’m away on holiday today my participation might be compromised for the next few weeks but I’ll do my best.