He was so close to getting his life back. To the day he could stop throwing every last penny toward his debt, even his military disability. To figuring out what he wanted to do next. And now this.
Saddled not only with Flynn, but with a foreigner who sounded and acted a lot like an operator. A banner day this was not.
He scoured his memory, wondering where they could go to ground quick with a bird this expensive.
He could fake it and just drop down into an exclusive airport, claim his comms had gone out. But with the women in the back, he wasn’t sure if he was a good enough actor to make it stick.
He should just head north, head toward the yard, turn both of them over to the cops that he knew his old partner Cris was friends with. The cops would make sure the women were treated well, fairly.
He’d get his repossession and his cut. His life. Everybody won.
But something made him hesitate.
Maybe it was the look of shock on Natalie Flynn’s face when Petra revealed her true colors.
Or maybe it was the fact he just couldn’t let two women go it alone, no matter how competent they seemed. It was hopelessly old fashioned, but who he was.
He hadn’t dealt in shades of gray like this since his time in the desert. He didn’t much like the fact he was dealing in them now.
But because he couldn’t let go of his integrity, he’d hear the women out first. Land this bird someplace remote since they didn’t need gas, get them all out in the open, and figure out what he had just bought a hand in.
Ethan dropped the Airbus lightly to the ground, reached into the backpack on the seat next to him and extracted his weapon.
He hadn’t brought the pistol along for protection or anything like that. In fact, Rob was very strict about his recovery agents not carrying. Ethan didn’t break work rules much but being armed was a holdover from his Air Force and contractor days.
He was glad he had it now, considering Natalie Flynn had a weapon of her own.
He’d landed behind the barn of an old friend, one from his military days who he was pretty sure was downrange right now. Regardless, the man wouldn’t ask questions. And that made this location safer than almost anywhere else he could land. The only ones who’d seen him touch down, maybe, were farmers, and they were used to helicopters crisscrossing the state, usually owned by oil surveyors who were checking up on derricks. While the Airbus was definitely bigger and sleeker than the typical Bell Jet, for most it wouldn't engender more than a little curiosity.
The door to the cabin slid open and the two women stepped out.
Flynn still held her weapon, but it was with a casual familiarity that told him she knew how to use it. She stepped away from Petra, keeping distance between them. Apparently the Ukrainian’s words had opened a chasm between the two women.
“Flynn,” he called out. “You put your weapon away and I’ll do the same,” he offered, waiting to see what she would do.
She shot a look at Petra, then nodded, ensuring the safety was engaged but kept in in her grip.
Ethan did the same then they both turned to Petra. There were things that needed to be said between them but first and foremost they needed clarification on what the young woman had seen. Or maybe done.
Natalie opened the conversation, and her voice wasn’t kind.
“All right Petra, spill.”
The woman repeated what she’d said earlier, her back straight, her eyes flashing fire. She wasn’t one bit sorry for deceiving Flynn, and expected Natalie to keep her safe, which was pretty ballsy.
It also told Ethan that the woman had an ace up her sleeve, something she was holding back as leverage. In her position, he’d do the same.
So he settled in and waited to see how Natalie Flynn would handle this wrinkle.
Masters still stood apart from both of them, hazel eyes a bit shuttered, his face expressionless.
He glanced back at the chopper flicker-quick and with that action, she knew what had to be going through his mind. He could easily get back in the cockpit, lock them out and continue what he’d been doing this morning, repossessing the helicopter. Leaving her and Petra high and dry.
But just as quickly as that thought seemed to occur to him, it was gone. She could actually see him making the decision to stay with them, or at least figure out what was going on.
Now that they were on the ground and she’d had a chance to look Petra in the eye, she was almost positive the woman was hedging on something. And since Petra had let her true colors shine, Natalie knew where she stood. She understood a woman like this could either be her friend or foe. But it all depended on Petra.
“So what was your role in all of this, Flynn?” Masters finally broke his silence, still standing just far enough away that she couldn’t take him down physically. He was smart. And with that, she knew he’d been battle tested, just like Cord had been.
A streak of pain washed through her, but she suppressed it after a long moment. Cord was five years gone and remembering him wasn’t helping at all.
Or was it? Masters reminded her of Cord now that she really looked. Today’s events hadn’t even thrown him off his stride. This was nothing compared to what he’d seen and done before. And regardless of the shaggy hair, he stood with the precision of a military man, something she couldn’t have noticed while he was piloting the helicopter.
He was a few inches taller than her own five-ten, lean but looked strong, which figured if he was a repossession agent. He was wary, yes, but those hazel eyes were assessing her both as a threat and as a job. That’s what she would do, so she knew what it looked like.
The silence had stretched just a little too long, so she answered him. “I’m her bridal consultant.”
He snorted in response. “Good try, sunshine. Somehow I don’t see Greg Flynn’s kid doing anything as pedestrian as a bridal consultant.”
It had been worth a try. But she owed this guy nothing, not really. She had no reason to tell him about the USB drive in her bra, even though Petra had alluded to it. Nor the fact that they had someone waiting for them on the El Paso border to spirit Petra away. But he also struck her as someone who could see right through bullshit.
He was waiting, sort of patiently, for her to answer. No, she didn’t really owe him anything, but she could give him a nugget.
Because while they needed him, he didn't need a damned thing from them. Which made them standing here having this conversation all the more strange.
“Fine. My pre-brief wasn’t overly detailed on the how and the why. I was sent in to extract Petra if she needed it. From what I can gather, her family hired us, wanted to make sure that Ward was treating her right. Which he obviously wasn’t. Getting her out seemed like the right thing to do.”
He nodded, but his expression was pure cynic. “Sure. Because a family from the Ukraine looking to offload their daughter can drop the kind of cash to hire y’all. Never mind what Petra said about you two using each other.” He paused, looked hard at both of them. “Yeah, I heard that. And because of what I heard, I’d just as soon leave you here, drop this bird off, and collect my commission. No more drama on my end.”
And yet there he stood talking to them instead of lifting off. He was just like Cord. A freakin’ hero.
But now she had to decide if she wanted to stand by Petra or cut her loose.
In the end, the bruises and the verbal abuse the woman had sustained made her choice easy.
“Please,” she said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. “Please take us to El Paso.” At least they had backup there, a plan. She’d decide if that needed to change as they got closer to Mexico.
He shifted, putting his hands on his hips and she got the feeling she needed to get to the point pretty quick. That her time was running out. That Petra’s time was running out.
“I’ll pay you. It’s just an extra day… not even that. You’ll get your commission and extra chunk of change and we get what we need.”
Something she
said made his mouth quirk into a bitter smile. “That’s the kind of offer I’d expect from a Flynn. So how much we talkin’ here?”
She stared at him hard, trying to dissect his words. He obviously knew her father, had maybe even worked for him at one point. Didn’t like him. Which was okay, and totally understandable. Not many people cared for her father. At least not from afar.
“Ten thousand.”
He squinted at her. “My minimum price for taking two women to the Mexican border is twenty.”
“Fifteen. Untraceable.”
He looked from her to Petra, back again. Nodded his head. “I ain’t cheap, but I can be had. Flynn, you've got yourself a deal.”
Chapter 3
Ethan strapped himself in, wondering what the hell he had just agreed to.
It wasn’t just the money, though that was certainly nice.
If and when his boss Rob found out about this, he’d probably chew Ethan up one side and down the other, but something inside needed to make a difference for these women. Well, for Petra, even if he was pretty sure she was a stone-cold bitch. Natalie Flynn he would be just as happy to ditch, but right now she was the golden goose, and he wasn't about to give that up.
He wasn't altogether altruistic. The fifteen large she offered would be a nice nest egg after he paid off Rob with today's commission. It would give him something to begin again with. And that was worth getting yelled at.
Now that he had Natalie Flynn in his mind, he couldn’t get her out.
She was long and lean, dark hair cut in a blunt bob, smallest amount of makeup, just enough to enhance smoky grey eyes. The dresses she and Petra wore were high end, the kind of thing you saw ultra-rich women wearing to dash off to the store. The sandals as mile-high as he’d guessed from his glance earlier. Two women going out on an expensive day-trip shopping spree… two women who expected to be home by nightfall.
It was hard for him to square what Natalie was doing with what he knew about her father. Greg freaking Flynn. The man had a huge presence in the contract side of Afghanistan and Iraq. He and Ward ran in the same circles, so it wasn’t a huge surprise that he’d sent his daughter to get dirt on Ward. But the way Natalie was continuing to protect Petra blew a big hole in his conception of how a Flynn would act.
He wasn’t an idiot. Natalie had information on Ward. Maybe on a tiny little drive. Maybe she’d already sent it home to dear old dad. It still didn’t make sense that she’d stick her neck out for Petra, though. She had what she wanted, so why continue with her assignment?
She could have easily walked away, could still, now, in the moments before they lifted off, but instead, when he looked in the rearview, he could see her talking to Petra without the headphones. Kept her back to him so he couldn’t read her lips. Had positioned herself so he couldn’t read Petra’s either.
It should have pissed him off, but instead he was impressed. And because of that, he was willing to take them to El Paso.
He’d thought it wasn’t really so much out of his way a little while ago, and it still wasn’t. Plus, he really wanted to try to unravel the mystery Natalie Flynn presented.
If she kept her word about the fifteen grand, by this time tomorrow his debts would be paid and he’d be sitting pretty with enough cash in his pocket to start over. Strangely enough, he trusted her family name to do that, because as much as they were assholes, they’d always paid on time
Which was a strangely unsettling thought.
He’d lived the last three years of his life in a bubble. One created by Ward and Flynn and Ethan himself.
He’d never really considered what to do with himself after. After he sobered up. After he paid his debts. After he earned back some self-respect.
Tomorrow, he’d think about it tomorrow. When he was free.
He’d call Rob when they refueled in Midland in a few hours, let him know what was going on. Get yelled at and be okay with being chastised.
Because as of right now, with freedom on the horizon, he was actually doing something that interested him, and that hadn’t happened in a long, long time.
But having Natalie Flynn here in the chopper took him back to places he didn't really want to go to. It took him back to the desert, back to the day he’d lost part of his soul.
He shook his head is if to clear the thoughts from it and concentrated on getting to Midland as quickly as he could.
Which started him thinking about what he would do with that fifteen large, where he would go.
He had no earthly idea.
Natalie slouched back in the seat, head pounding. Partially with anger, but mostly with frustration.
Petra hadn't given an inch, had stuck to her story. Natalie wasn't sure if she believed her or not, but it didn't really matter. What Petra was asking for, to stay in the States, was impossible.
They'd set her up to go to Brazil, and that's where she was going.
She stared at the back of Masters’ head, wondered what was going through his mind. It had been a hell of a morning for all of them.
She stretched out her legs, engaged the safety on her weapon, tucked it where Petra couldn't get to it easily, then tilted her head back and tried not to think about any of it. Because right now she was along for the ride.
Petra nudged her an hour later, pointed to Masters who was motioning for them to put on cans.
She did, and it was almost a relief to hear his voice.
“We're about five minutes out of Midland,” he said. “This is where we're going to gas up.”
She nodded, took off the headset. She'd be happy to stand, stretch her legs a bit.
A few moments later they were touching down at a small airfield populated by a whole bunch of corporate jets.
Masters spoke with an attendant who began fueling the helicopter, then met Natalie at the side of the aircraft while Petra watched, still seated in the cabin. “Lot of oil money moving through here, so a bird like this isn’t exactly normal, but they come through often enough that we shouldn't have any problems.”
“I want to check in with Arrow,” Natalie said, “let them know we're on our way.”
He nodded, “I need to check in with my boss as well.”
He stepped toward the nose and she toward the tail of the aircraft, each pulling out their cell phones.
Her father answered on the first ring, as he always did. “Where are you?”
“Midland, Texas. We had a bit of a bump. Our pilot is repossessing Ward’s helicopter.”
The fact the CEO of Arrow Security didn’t burst into hearty laughter at the scenario told her something was wrong. Really wrong. He should have been delighted in Ward losing his very pretty ride.
“What do you know about this guy? Your pilot?”
She shrugged even though he couldn't see it. “Prior military, he's got the moves. If I had to guess, I’d say Air Force. He’s got the flyboy vibe. Seems to be a pretty good pilot. Is willing to take us to El Paso which is more than I expected. Oh, and Petra did a one-eighty.”
“Tell me about the pilot first,” her father demanded. “What's his name? What's he look like?”
Why was he so hung up on Masters? Though with the way everything had gone south, it kind of made sense. “He's tall, probably six-two, rangy, knows how to handle a weapon. He said his name is Ethan Masters. Doesn't seem to be too fond of you. You gonna tell me what's going on?”
“Don Ward is dead, that's what's going on. Of the three of you, you're the only one I can say didn't kill him. You didn't have a reason to, but Petra sure as hell did and who knows with this pilot.”
“What do you mean Ward is dead?”
“His staff found him in bed with a bullet hole in his head a little over an hour ago. You said that Petra had done a one-eighty. What do you mean?”
“I mean she went from being the sweet naive young lady into a ball buster. The woman sitting in the chopper right now doesn't take shit from anybody.”
Her father swore. “This was supposed to
be easy. Low risk, high reward.” He went silent and she could feel him judging her over the cell line.
Natalie winced in response to his criticism and then drew her shoulders back. None of this was her fault. Not one bit.
She started to reply, to tell him his intel had obviously been wrong…again, when a noise, and then motion out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.
The upper rotors of the chopper had begun to power up.
She whirled, as did Masters, an expression of shock on his face as he reached out and tried to open the passenger cockpit door. It was locked, and in the pilot’s seat sat Petra. She threw them a wave and a jaunty smile, then a shooing motion as the rotors picked up speed.
Masters pulled his weapon pointed straight at her through the cockpit windshield.
Natalie held her breath, wondering if he'd actually take the shot, but he did not, and lowered his weapon to his side as the chopper lifted off.
He and Natalie stepped back, buffered by the backwash and watched the helicopter lift up and away.
“What the fuck just happened?” Natalie demanded, her phone hanging uselessly at her side, her father’s voice tinny as he yelled at her.
“Pretty sure a Russian spy just stole the helicopter.” Masters pulled his phone back up to his ear. “Rob, we're hosed.”
Natalie’s stomach bottomed out. She raised her own cell. “Dad,” her voice was frigid, colder than she’d ever heard herself speak. “What do you know about Petra?”
Masters stood beside her. “Put it on speaker, please.”
If he’d demanded, she would have unequivocally refused, but since he’d asked, and she was pretty pissed off at her father right now, she did as he requested.
“…be careful.” Greg warned.
“Of what, exactly?” Ethan’s voice was calm, collected. “The Russian spy you put into bed with Ward?”
Broken Wings Page 3
