His was the final step, requiring slightly more time as he smoothly raised each hand and removed two cufflinks, each composed of small lead balls plated with a thin layer of silver.

He broke off the post and toggle of each cufflink in a perfectly rehearsed routine, leaving only the two balls, each dome-shaped on one side.

Next, he removed his watch, a Rolex, and turned it over, revealing a narrow tube extending a mere sixteenth of an inch from the watch’s metal casing.  He gripped the tube with his fingertips and gently pulled it free, carefully setting it on a dry section of the lavatory’s sink.

Finally came two pieces from his belt, which appeared to be two decorative metal brads.  But upon pulling them from the thick leather, the shapes became clear.  Two short, wide metal casings.

Carefully, delicately, he retrieved the tube from his watch and bit into one end, puncturing it.  Then he cautiously poured its contents, a tiny stream of dark gunpowder, into one of the casings where he then placed one of the lead balls, or bulletheads, atop to keep it from spilling.

Next, the man turned the tube over and punctured the opposite end, again delicately pouring the powder into the second casing and topping it off with the second metal ball.

Meticulously, he slid the tiny tube back into the hole within his watch and retrieved what resembled an elongated thimble from his front pocket.  With careful pressure, he used it to gently press each bullethead down, securing it onto the metal casing.

When finished, he dropped the small tool back into his pocket and reached down and around the back of the lavatory sink, looking for the small access panel.  When he found it, he pulled it open with a powerful tug and pushed his hand deep inside, searching.

The plastic object didn’t look much like a handgun. Instead, it looked like a blaster from a cheap science fiction movie.  Or a toy.  Because it had to.  Each of the four individual pieces had to look entirely different, at least to airport security.  Anything but components to a plastic handgun.  It was small and blocklike, with only two separate holes, one for each bullet, not unlike a much smaller version of an old-style double-barrel shotgun.

Inserting and then locking a thick clasp in place over both rounds, the man finally raised the gun in his right hand to examine it.

They only needed two bullets—one to kill the senior pilot and another for the air marshal on board, if there was one.  If not, one of the flight attendants.  This would squash any ideas of resistance from the rest of the passengers.  Especially without knowing how many more rounds were left in the gun.

The man twisted his arm and checked the time on his wristwatch.

Practice made perfect.