It is spring of 1962 and a flight is leaving the New York International Airport, inbound for Tokyo, Japan. The plane is packed, full of all kinds of people from varying backgrounds, different goals and purposes. Its an uncomfortable flight, despite being at the height of luxury after sitting in a seat for about 15 hours; even the most luxurious flights can become uncomfortable. The aircraft's path takes it over Russia, a very sensitive country these days, especially for an American flight. Everything seems fine for an hour or so in Soviet airspace. Then...



The wing flies from the machine in a fiery ball of rage and the plane plummets, the pilots fighting for control of it. The metal bird smashes into ground, stranding its passengers deep in Siberia. And in the foothills above the crash site, headlights can be seen weaving their way down to the downed plane, their intentions unknown...