The unsolved mystery of a Boeing 727 that disappeared into Angolan skies 22 years ago

The focus fell on Ben Padilla, a 51-year-old Miami cargo pilot known for tackling tough jobs. “A guy who’ll do anything,” a colleague of his told the Sydney Morning Herald. “He sorts out the money problems, cuts through the paperwork, and brings your plane home.” His sister, Benita, called him a “John Wayne type—intimidating. Like he’s bulletproof.”

But Padilla wasn’t certified to fly a 727, which needs three trained crew. A Smithsonian investigation confirmed he boarded that day with John Mikel Mutantu, a mechanic from the Republic of the Congo, who also couldn’t fly the jet.

A month later, Canadian pilot Bob Strothers spotted a 727 in Conakry, Guinea, with N844AA’s tail number visible under new paint. “There’s absolutely no doubt it’s the same aircraft,” he told the Associated Press. Re-registered in two days—a process that normally takes months—he added, “whoever owns it must have some important friends.”

The trail ended there and speculation ran wild: was it theft, insurance fraud, or something darker?

The plane’s ownership was murky, tied to Miami companies, Nigerian airlines, and Angolan cargo firms, with $4 million in unpaid fees. Africa’s vast, unmonitored spaces—empty runways, remote scrublands—offered cover. “Africa is one of the few places where something like this can still happen,” a former intelligence official said.

But a 727 is hard to hide. It’s useless without pilots, and no mystery Boeings have been reported flying in Africa since. Most now believe it crashed, likely in the Atlantic or a remote African expanse, its wreckage lost to poor tracking and limited search efforts. 22 years later, N844AA’s fate remains unknown, a lingering puzzle in aviation history.