The cargo hold of the dc-10 was completely silent but for the roar of the engines. 4 strangers sat, spaced apart, pondering their own respective tasks. This would certainly be an interesting start to the important business meeting I was headed to. I pretended to inspect my diamond cuff links as I quickly scanned my fellow passengers. To my left, a middle-aged woman with a face hardened by many years in the sun. “Médecins Sans Frontières”, said the badge hanging around her neck. Across from her was a gruff, burly man with a prominent scar running down the side of his face. I noticed writing on his lapel that said “De Oppresso Liber”. To his left, and across from me, a beautiful woman. So beautiful that when she met my discreet gaze, I immediately got nervous and looked away. It takes a lot for this savvy international businessman to to blush. But she was all that, and then some. There were no distinguishing marks, tags or signs of any kind. Her clothing, makeup, even hairstyle, were unremarkable, but not in any way disturbing of her beauty. There were no reads I could make, and so on this plane of four mysterious strangers, she was the most mysterious.