Flying Rescue Read online

  He dozed a bit and when he awakened it was almost three in the morning. Show time. He’d already packed a small overnight bag and had it sitting by the door. He showered, changed into clean clothes, made sure his ankle holster was draped over it. Not the most elegant thing, but it’d be easily concealed in the close quarters where a shoulder holster wouldn’t be without bulky clothing that required an explanation. He walked out of the bathroom wearing his jeans and toweling off his hair.

  Cali glanced in his direction. Damn, had this been any other time, any other circumstances, with her laying there with sleep mussed hair, he’d be joining her. Instead, he stopped.

  She smiled. “Good morning.” She sat, the sheet and blanket falling away to reveal her large t-shirt. She strode across the hotel room and in the dim light, her bare legs enticed him. Just as he thought, long and lean and oh-so-perfect to wrap around his hips. She sashayed into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

  Had she just been tormenting him? He swallowed hard. First, he had to deal with flying again, and given that they’d be flying with criminals, he couldn’t exactly focus on a football game. She hadn’t found anything wrong with the plane, and he appreciated that. Still, to put his anxiety on edge with a plane that quite possibly had been tampered with…there wasn’t enough therapy for him to get out of that one.

  He heard the shower start and tried not to focus on her lithe body beneath the spray, the way the water would run between her breasts or down into the valley of her thighs. He grabbed a water bottle and took a long drink. The clean, not quite distinct, smell of the hotel provided toiletries came from the room along with thick steam. His cock hardened.

  A few moments later the shower turned off. She showered faster than some of the soldiers he knew, and he admitted that it impressed him a bit. She emerged from the bathroom with her hair pulled back in a damp pony tail wearing jeans and a t-shirt. She left the light on over the vanity so she could see to get to her suitcase and pulled out a pair of socks. She double checked a smaller bag, her overnight, and then sat down on the bed to pull on socks and boots.

  “What’s the plan?” She asked.

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Not get killed?” He tossed her a smile.

  She didn’t buy it. “Ha. Ha. We just take this guy to Brownsville and drop him off. Color me a bit paranoid, but something tells me getting me in the air would be the perfect time to kill me or something.” She finished lacing her boots.

  “The plane goes down, so does he. Unless he brings a parachute on board. That’s not something you usually carry, is it?”

  She laughed. “No. Not even for the pilot.” She grew more serious. “I don’t know what happened to you or anything, but you’re not one of those people who are afraid to fly, right? I mean you’ll be right in the copilot’s seat. Just don’t touch anything.”

  Had he been a lesser man, he might have lied to her right then. He couldn’t. “An explosive detonated not far from me. Knocked me out and sent me into an uncontrolled fall during a jump. I pancaked. Not even as cute as Wylie E. Coyote. And no, I really don’t like to fly anymore.”

  She gave a low whistle. “That had to be tough. Probably amazing you survived.”

  He might have fallen in love with her just a little bit. She was the first person, aside from his friends and Hank, who’d heard his story and hadn’t suddenly fussed over him. Instead, she’d admitted it was tough and just went on. “Yeah, it was. Thanks.” He glanced at his phone. “Wheels up. Let’s go to Vegas.”

  Pre-flight went off without a hitch and soon they were taxing down the runway. Cali cast glances at Wings. For a nervous flyer, and she’d certainly piloted for her fair share of those, he was doing pretty well. She thought having him in the copilot seat would help. At least then he could see what she was doing. For the trip to Vegas, she left the door open to the cabin. The Cessna Citation M2 was rated for a single pilot and could carry up to seven passengers. The business-class jet was common, and she’d seen a few of them getting ready to taxi after them.

  “I want to sit in the cabin when we take off from Vegas,” Wings said. “Let him think I’m your nervous flyer boyfriend and you banished me to the cabin because I get on your nerves.”

  “You can keep an eye on him.” She didn’t like the idea. She also wasn’t going to argue with him. “Are you sure about the parachutes?” She cast a hard glance in his direction. “If we have to jump, we’re going to have to go tandem and you’ll be in charge. I’ve never jumped before.” Am I sane for putting my life in your hands? She wondered if he’d heard the unspoken question in her words and hoped he understood.

  “Hopefully we won’t have to jump. But damn it, if he tries to overtake you, or do something worse, I’m not ruling out the possibility.” Had she not been piloting the jet, she thought now would have been the time to kiss her. In the short time that she’d spent with Wings he’d become important to her and in more of a sense than just her bodyguard. “We need an out. I don’t like that you even have to take this job, but it also makes sense. We’ve got to figure out what he’s been up to.” She knew he’d been texting Shelby, seeing if she had any information with her contacts and had just received some additional information from Hank’s people.

  “I want this over with.” She ground out the words, not because of the company, but because she was tired of looking over her shoulder and second guessing every assignment. “I go where I’m told. I fly who pays the money. This guy must think he’s so important if he cares about my knowing or thinks I was somehow involved in getting the feds there. That or he severely underestimates our federal law enforcement.”

  Wings chuckled. “Probably a bit of both. Most of these guys overinflate their own sense of worth. Doesn’t matter if they’re Taliban, Isis, or your common money laundering criminal. The sun rises and sets out of their asses and they’re always doing this for the right reasons. Those of us who choose to follow the law just can’t grasp it.” He snorted derisively. “Trust me. I’ve heard it before.”

  “I bet you have.”

  “Just so we’re clear. You focus on the flying. I’ll see if I can’t wring a confession out of him. Then we turn it over to the feds, let them handle it. My job is to keep you safe while we’re doing this.”

  “And my job is to keep the plane in the air. Got it.” She smiled at him. “You’re really doing great, you know. I expected you to be more nervous. Fidgety.”

  “Maybe it’s just because you’re flying.” He smiled at her again and she worked to stay focused on her flying. They’d land in Vegas in about forty-five minutes. He relaxed into his seat and closed his eyes.

  His words warmed her and then she was focused on making connections and getting ready to taxi into Vegas. He remained silent, no doubt like her thinking of the mission ahead.

  Chapter 5

  Funny how being in the co-pilot’s seat made a good lot of his fears go away. Sure, he’d had absolutely zero flight training and the myriad of controls looked harder to work than the GPS in his rental car. And yet, just knowing he was here, that he’d have instant notice if something went wrong reassured him. Even the turbulence over the Rockies didn’t bother him as much as he thought they would.

  Having Cali at the controls reassured him. With each mile, his admiration for her skill, her dedication grew. She knew the controls up one side and down the other, never missing a beat, even as they were slightly rerouted due to traffic between Denver and Salt Lake City. Gaining or lowering altitude all went smoothly, and as he listened to her communicating with the tower in Vegas, he discovered an entirely new side to flying. Until now, he’d either ridden as a passenger, and military planes weren’t known for their comfort, or jumped out of them. The idea of sitting at the controls, making them fly, invigorated him. To learn how to do this with Cali…exciting!

  She landed at Vegas and taxied to the appropriate hangar, awaiting their passenger. They’d arrived early, as planned. Cali unfastened her seatbelt and stood, mo
ving between the seats.

  Wings reached up and grabbed her arm, stopping her. He stood, then dipped his head and kissed her. For a moment he feared he’d overreached. She rested her palm against his chest as if she were going to push him away. She didn’t, giving in with a sigh and swaying against him. He wrapped his arm around her and drew her closer, taking advantage of her parted lips to taste her. The flavor of mint burst on his tongue and made his lips tingle. He smiled against her mouth.

  She pulled away, breathing heavily. “Wings. I’ve…got work to do.” She stepped away with a soft smile.

  “So do I. Just wanted to thank you for getting us here safely.” He released her and allowed her to walk to the cabin.

  She chuckled. “Well then. I’m curious to see what you do once we get our client delivered.” Casting him a sultry look, she walked away.

  He couldn’t exactly unpack his bag in the middle of the cabin and go over his weapon or hide a few extra clips with the bustle of activity. Someone arrived with a cart and proceeded to stock the beverages with cans of Perrier and San Pellegrino in multiple flavors, as if the flight were going to last days, rather than a few hours. No alcohol was brought on board, and he appreciated that. Bottles of water they’d brought with them were already chilling.

  He stepped back into the bathroom to double check his gun and clips. Deciding he needed to stake out a seat, he put his brown leather jacket on a single seat in the middle. Not that he wouldn’t have liked to be closer to the cabin, but he also counted on Michel not wanting to bring the plane down by taking out the pilot, at least not with him aboard. He really ought to be shadowing her, but she refused, stating she’d be safe enough. He didn’t like it. Strange airport. Strange staff. Too much opportunity for things to go wrong, but she also had a point. If he tagged along too much, people might doubt the boyfriend story. They didn’t follow along while the pilot worked, even if that pilot was the girlfriend.

  He checked in with Hank. No new information and neither did Shelby have anything for them.

  Cali returned to the plane. “He’ll be here shortly,” she said. “You ready?”

  Wings took his seat and stretched out his legs like he’d been waiting and was bored out of his mind. “I’m good. You?”

  “As long as I can shake his hand and introduce myself without freaking out, once I’m behind the cockpit door, I’m good.” She stepped aside.

  He watched out the window as a tall man with shoulder-length black hair pulled a carry on toward the plane. The man wore a gray jacket and trousers, most likely designer from the way they fit, and leather shoes. The black white shirt underneath wasn’t any plain old T-shirt. A diamond stud glinted in his ear. Sunlight winked from the gold band on his left hand, and a larger signet ring sat on his right. He spoke into a black phone, which he turned off and dropped into a pocket of his jacket as he approached the plane.

  He ascended the steps. “You were available. Wonderful. You gave me such a trouble free flight here before, I was hoping you could take me home, Ms. Santiago.”

  “I’m happy I could oblige. Mr. Devanati. Do you need help with your carry on? Is there any other luggage for the flight?”

  “Just my bag, and I’ve got it.” He held out his hand so Cali had to shake it. “I trust this flight will be uneventful as well.”

  “Of course. I’ve checked the weather and we’ve smooth air between here and Texas.”

  Wings admired her professional facade. She didn’t even break a sweat.

  Michel turned. “Who is joining us? I thought this was a private plane.” His eyes narrowed at the unnecessary complication to his plans.

  “My boyfriend. He travels a lot and we get so little time together. I hope you don’t mind if he rides with us. We’re flying back to Vegas as soon as we drop you off.”

  “Nonrefundable deposit on the room for the weekend. Sorry.” Wings shrugged.

  “Oh well. The more the merrier, right? It’s no problem.” He stowed his bag and took a seat, as Wings had hoped, across the aisle from him.

  “Thank you for understanding. Please fasten your seat belts. We’ll be taking off shortly.” Cali went into the cockpit and pulled the door closed behind her.

  Wings fastened his seat belt and made a show of putting a mint in his mouth. “I hope this flight goes smoother than our one here. Horrible turbulence.”

  “You don’t like to fly Mr. —?”

  “Wilson.” The alias slipped easily off his tongue. “And no. Can’t stand it really. I hope you’re not chatty. I’m going to take a Xanax and see if I can sleep through it all.” He made a show of popping a small white pill, which in reality was a Tylenol.

  Michel chuckled. “With a lady as pretty as Ms. Santiago at the controls, you should feel as if you’re in good hands. But not every man appreciates what he has until it’s gone.”

  Wings laughed along, though the words rankled in this case. As long as Michel didn’t think he’d try something. “Well she makes it worth my while.” With a wink, he pulled on his sunglasses and leaned back in the chair, pretending to drift off to sleep.

  Cali’s voice came over the intercom letting them know she was starting to taxi. A few moments later the plane started rolling and picking up speed.

  Adrenaline pumped through his veins, the way it used to do before missions. Listening to the roar of the engines usually drowned out the guys’ chatter, though he and his team usually remained silent. Soon, they were approaching lift off and a moment later the stomach-dropping feeling of the plane’s wheels leaving the ground. Here they go, either something would happen or it wouldn’t. Either way, he had to be prepared.

  “What do you do, Wilson?” Michel asked once the flight was underway. He was rummaging around in his bag for something, and Wings tried to get a good look.

  “Construction,” he said, choosing a profession he could speak reasonably well about, since his father had been an electrician.

  “How’d you meet Ms. Santiago?” He sat back down, a small box in his lap.

  Wings instantly went on alert. That wasn’t a laptop or tablet and looked suspiciously like a high end gun case. He remained slouched in his chair, leaning back as if under the effects of the relaxation drug. “She flew me and my buddies to an assignment up in North Dakota. One of the oil operations there.” He sat up straighter. “What do you do, if you don’t mind that I ask?”

  “I’m a finance guy. Sometimes I fix the messes other people make.” He kept his thumbs on the case, as if to open it. “You know how that is, I’m sure. Planning a weekend in Vegas with your beautiful mistress when all of a sudden people show up thinking you need to follow their rules. Their plans. Pain in my ass. So now I’ve got to fly to Brownsville to make my wife happy and convince her that I was in Vegas for business.” He shook his head. “Some people ought to keep their noses in their own business.” He gave Wings a pointed look.

  And there was the warning. Wings feigned innocence. “Hey, I’m not telling anyone.” He straightened his seat and wished he’d stashed a book or something in the seat next to him. This was about a four and a half hour flight and going that long without anything to occupy him was a recipe for anxiety.

  He went to where he’d stashed his carry on and grabbed the Douglas Preston book he’d picked up off a rack in a truck stop on his way to Montana. He returned to his seat, noticing Michel watching him closely.

  “Have you read it?” Wings asked.

  Michel shook his head. “Nah.”

  “Good. I’d hate to hear a spoiler.” He leaned back in his chair and turned to his marked page. He didn’t check his phone or set it on the chair next to him. That might be too obvious. Too bad he’d gotten out of the habit of wearing a watch. That would have been much easier to check. He focused on his reading while keeping an eye on Michel; he’d gotten to a very intense part of the book.

  Michel must have decided that everything was proceeding as planned because he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, still holding the bo
x. The contents of the box intrigued Wings. Maybe it was something special for his wife and he didn’t want to let it out of his sight. It could have been a precious object, maybe even contraband.

  It also could be a weapon of some sort. Although he had a gun on him, Wings knew firing it risked depressurizing the cabin. Not good at all. If they were going to end up skydiving, they’d also need to somehow, safely drop down to about 12,000 feet. He’d secreted a knife on him. Cali and he had created a plan. He hoped they wouldn’t have to use it, but she was to drop the plan down to an altitude from which they could jump just in case.

  The plane bounced with turbulence. Just a little, not a lot, and then there was a big drop. He dropped his book and it slid toward the aisle. Gripping the hand rests, he focused on his breathing. Remembering his therapist’s words, he took several deep breaths. He focused on the door, the back of the seat in front of him, the floor, even the window for the things he could see. He smelled the artificially clean aircraft and a hint of expensive cologne from Michel. He tasted blood where he’d bit the corner of his mouth.

  A few more shudders and the plane evened out.

  Wings recovered his book. He found his place again, muttering about losing his spot.

  Michel grinned at him. “You don’t like to fly, do you?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “I wasn’t sure. Thought it might have been an act. Ms. Santiago is a pilot, and a damn good one. I can’t see her settling for a man who doesn’t love to fly as much as she does.” Michel’s gaze rested on Wing’s leg. “A little stiff? Construction injury?”

  “Yeah. Workman’s comp is being a dick about paying for my PT.” He retrieved his book and opened it again.

  “I hear they can be that way.” The empathy in his voice gave Wings pause. Maybe he’d gone through something like that in the past.