by Kelly Wood
Chapter Thirteen
Ben Jackson
Somewhere over Mexico
Ben watched Regan sleep from across the aisle, her head resting on Gracie’s shoulder. Tear tracks still marked her face, but the puffiness from her crying jag had gone down. Gracie kept her arm around Regan, protecting her like a mama bear. His heart had shattered seeing her bawl her eyes out over Gray. Not that he would admit it to anyone here. Or, anyone at all in his life.
Jax and Liam sat across from Gracie and Regan. A small table sat between the four seats that faced each other. Ben sat alone across the aisle in his own grouping of four, the other three seats empty. Jax and Liam kept their heads bent together, whispering quietly, both having recently woken from naps.
Ben focused on Gracie, an unwelcome and surprising addition when he’d re-entered the terminal. Gracie stared back at Ben now. Her eyes full of knowing. Ben would have to watch her more closely than the others. He knew Jax, Ben and Liam, and knew how they thought. Gracie was a puzzle to him. A close player in this game. A loose cannon, in Ben’s eyes.
Ben went back to his reading. Using his satellite phone as a wireless link for his laptop, he read every file on Gracie Williams, wife of one Guy Bianchi. His team had worked overtime piecing together the information. Ben understood Regan’s thoughts on bringing Gracie along. Even if Ben didn’t agree with them himself. If the exchange turned violent, Gracie could try to thwart Ben. In trying to protect her husband, Ben could be hurt on accident. Or Regan. Liam and Jax didn’t concern him as much as himself or Regan. Just casualties of war.
The other players concerned Ben, too. Right now, he had no idea where Frank Donato and Michael Thomas were. They could come in shooting and just clean up the mess later. Both men had the means and the violent history to make it a possibility. Ben knew money talked in third world countries. Freedom could be bought for a price.
Regan stirred. Ben closed his laptop and moved it aside. He’d given Regan time to rest, but now it was time to work. They had less than two hours until landing and Ben still didn’t know what Regan and the others were hiding. But, most important, Ben still didn’t know who had Gray. Well, they knew who: Guy Bianchi. But he wasn’t using that name. All searches ended in his disappearance. Ben needed to know his new alias to learn any more. Without that, all of them were going in blind.
Regan opened her eyes and sat up. She stretched, extending her arms above her head. She looked much better than earlier. Her eyes were clearer and less strained. Ben reached above him and rang for the flight attendant. She appeared moments later. Ben eyed her while he asked for food and drinks to be brought for everyone. Even remembering at the last minute, it should be peanut-free because of Regan’s allergy.
The flight attendant brought out a tray of sandwiches and chips. She served everyone and then brought out another tray of bottled water and cans of soda. Everyone shoveled the food in. No one needed a reminder that they didn’t know when they would have a chance to eat again.
“Regan, would you join me?” Ben asked after all the plates had been cleared. Regan stood up and moved across the aisle, taking the seat across from Ben. Ben reached into his bag and withdrew a zip tie but kept it out of her sight.
Regan rested her hands on the table between them, wringing them together in worry. Before she could react, Ben struck. He grabbed both of her hands, pinning them to the table. He quickly secured the zip tie around her wrists, tightening it as far as it would go.
“What the—” Regan started.
Liam jumped from his seat, but Ben was quicker. Ben pushed Liam back down before Liam could swing at him.
“Take this off now!” Regan screamed at him. Jax and Gracie stared, their mouths hanging open in shock. The well-trained attendant stayed in the galley away from the chaos.
“No,” Ben said. He needed to prove his point, and example always went further than explanation.
Liam lunged again. Ben punched him in the chin. Liam fell back into his seat. Jax grabbed Liam and cautioned him to stay down. For now.
“What are you doing?” Panic strained Regan’s voice. “Take it off.”
“No. You.”
“How?” Regan asked.
“Exactly. We don’t know what kind of danger we are walking into. You need to be prepared for all possibilities,” Ben said. He motioned Regan with his hand to join him in the aisle. “Stand up.”
“Ben, just cut them off. Please,” Gracie pleaded.
“I don’t need to.” Ben’s voice was rough, forceful. Ben looked back at Regan and used a gentler tone with her. “Now, stand.”
Regan used the table as leverage, placing her bound hands on it and shoving herself up. Anger radiated off every part of her. Ben took two steps back. He wanted space between them for when she freed herself. He knew she would attack in retaliation.
“You can break these, but you need to know how. Make sure the cuffs are tight and the extra line is sticking out between your wrists.”
Regan glared at him and then looked down at her hands. The cuffs were leaving her wrists red and raw already from her struggles. The end sprouted up between her hands.
“Up or down?” Regan asked.
“Either. As long as it isn’t to the side,” Ben said. “Now, hold your hands above your head and then swing them down toward your stomach. As you do it, you’ll want to pull your shoulder blades back and strain your hands against the plastic.”
Regan glared at Ben again before following his instructions. She grunted as her hands hit her stomach.
Nothing happened.
“Try again. Sometimes it takes a few swings,” Liam said. Ben glanced his way. Liam wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Regan raised her hands again and brought them down. On the third try, her wrists snapped apart and the zip tie flew to the floor. Pleasure brightened her face at her accomplishment but quickly disappeared as she lunged at Ben. Ben grabbed onto both of her wrists, holding her back from striking him.
“How are you going to get out of this?” Ben taunted her.
Regan grabbed Ben’s right wrist with her right hand. She pulled back on his thumb while rotating her arms up and over his. Ben lost his grip.
“Good,” Ben said. Regan turned to sit back down. As soon as her back was turned away from him, Ben grabbed her in a bear hug. His tight hold locked her arms to her sides. “How about now?”
Regan jerked and strained against Ben’s arms while he just tightened his grip further. He locked his hands together across her chest. Regan pulled her head forward and tried to land a headbutt but missed when Ben turned his head to the side. Regan’s head grazed his chin. The pain was mild compared to her actually landing the move.
“Take a step to the right and then angle your left foot behind my leg.” Regan stopped struggling and listened to Ben. “Ready?”
“Yes.” Regan’s answer came out in a huff of air. The struggle had winded her.
“Twist to the side and push against my chest.” Ben lost his balance falling back into the aisle, his lock on her broken by the fall. Before he could congratulate her, Regan’s arm came up and elbowed him in the nose. Blood gushed down. He swore as he tried to staunch the bleeding.
Liam and Jax clapped at her success, but Regan wasn’t done. She threw her arm back and tried to punch him in the nose. Ben brought his hand up and caught her fist in his. He closed his fingers over her hand and squeezed. Regan pulled, but Ben wouldn’t let go.
“Did I get my point across?” Ben asked.
“That you’re a jerk and I never should’ve called you? Absolutely,” Regan said. Ben pushed against Regan’s fist, the momentum sending her backwards. She tripped over her own feet and fell on her butt.
“Too bad you’re stuck with me now,” Ben said. Regan huffed in response.
“What was the point of that display? To prove your manliness?” Regan asked as she rubbed her battered wrists. “Gray’s never felt the need.”
The jab hurt worse than the elbow to the nose
he’d taken. Gray proved time and again that he was the better man. To Regan, at least.
“I needed to know if you could defend yourself.” Ben pointed to Liam. “I know he can and now I know you can, too.”
“You could’ve just asked,” Jax said. Regan took the moment to strike since Ben was distracted by Jax. Regan swept her leg out and caught both of Ben’s ankles, knocking him back. Before Ben could reply, he found himself lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling.
“Too late now.” Regan pulled herself up and then reached down to help Ben up.
“Everyone, get some more rest. We’ll be landing soon,” Ben said, straightening his clothes.
“How far behind them are we?” Gracie asked.
“A couple of hours at most. My plane is faster and we didn’t need to stop to refuel.” Ben’s voice came out nasally from the injury. Based on Regan’s smirk, she heard it and enjoyed it.
But why did Gray’s plane stop to refuel? Ben thought. It should easily have been able to make the trip from Las Vegas to Tegucigalpa without the need.
Chapter Fourteen
Gray Thomas
Tegucigalpa, Honduras
Gray flushed the airplane toilet and then washed his hands. He took extra time to clean his wound. The pain level had increased during the flight and it worried him. Gray pulled the bandage away from the stab wound to inspect it. Red, angry skin surrounded the butterfly bandages. An infection was already setting in.
Gray cleaned it, added more ointment, and then covered the wound with fresh gauze. He taped it into place and said a prayer for quick healing. The wound would slow him down if it got any worse.
Gray held onto his bag as he walked back to his seat. Guy paused in counting the stacks of money on the table while his eyes followed Gray’s every move. Gray sat back down and fastened his belt but left it loose enough to not put any added pressure on the injury. As soon as he was settled, Guy went back to sorting the money into plain white envelopes. When he was finished, he tucked them into his coat pocket.
Gray leaned his head against the window and watched the ground come closer and closer as the plane landed. The sound of the tires hitting the runway sent nerves running through his body. His time to act was coming closer as he was feeling weaker and weaker. His body screamed for rest but his mind refused to give in. The pilot’s voice came over the speaker announcing their destination. Gray stayed in his seat while the plane taxied to a private hangar. He looked out the window to familiarize himself with the surroundings.
“I will have a gun on me when we deplane. Do not try anything. I will not be afraid to shoot you,” Guy said.
“What about customs? You’ll have a gun while our passports are checked?” Gray asked.
“Yes. The agents don’t care. They know me and will tell me if you try to get a message to them.” Guy pointed at Gray. “This is your only warning.”
“Where are you taking me? To your hostel?” Gray asked. He debated on trying to leave Regan another bathroom message but felt that probably wouldn’t work twice.
If she even found the first one, Gray thought.
“Eventually. We have a stop to make first.”
Gray hadn’t expected Guy to actually answer the question. Only one thing could explain his openness. Guy never intended for Gray to live long enough to care about the answers.
Or he’s lying, Gray thought. Either way, it didn’t leave much for Gray to work with. Send Regan into the lion’s den of a man out for revenge or leave her nothing to follow next? Gray only had one choice. He had to find a way to leave another clue for her. Who knew the extent of the damage Regan would do if left to her own devices. At least with the clues, Gray had an idea of where she would eventually be so he could find her.
But why am I still alive? Gray wondered. He put himself on high alert until he could make his escape. It would take all of his strength to overpower Guy if his time ran out before he had his opportunity.
Gray put it out of his mind as he stood. Gray grunted from the pain when he lifted his backpack onto his shoulder. He used his left hand to add pressure to the wound to ease his discomfort while he walked. For whatever reason it helped.
Gray followed Guy into the terminal and toward customs, keeping his eye out for any way to leave a bread crumb for Regan. The airport was almost empty this time of night so they were able to walk right up to an open desk. Guy handed over his passport while Gray stood right behind him watching. The agent opened the flap and palmed the folded money lying inside. He stamped the page and held his hand out for Gray’s passport while he made small talk with Guy.
“It’s good to see you again, Señor. Did you have a good trip?” the agent asked in Spanish.
“The same. Our luggage is being unloaded now,” Guy replied. His Spanish wasn’t accented, and with his tan skin, Gray could see how Guy blended in with the locals all these years.
The agent flipped through Gray’s passport slowly. He read every stamp showing the places Gray had been.
“You are quite the traveler, Mr. uh, Thomas. What brings you to Honduras? Business or pleasure?” The man’s Spanish was spoken quickly but Gray understood him.
Guy mistook Gray’s hesitation in answering as Gray not understanding the language. Guy spoke up and answered before Gray could think of a response. “Pleasure. This is my cousin from the States. He’ll be staying with me and helping me with this and that.”
Gray looked at Guy out of the corner of his eye before smiling at the agent. What was that about? Gray thought.
“Perdón,” the agent switched to English. “I didn’t realize you needed English, sir. I just assumed with your travels Spanish was familiar to you.” The agent quickly stamped the page and handed the passport to Guy. Gray reached for it, but Guy got to it first and slipped it in his pocket.
Another hurdle. Gray was stuck in the country until he could get to an American embassy for a new one if he couldn’t swipe his back from Guy. Luck would be on his side if they stayed in Tegucigalpa. The embassy was located here. If they continued farther into the country, it could pose a problem for Gray. Plus, Guy seemed to be anticipating every move Gray was going to make.
“Gracias. Until we meet again. You will call me if we have any other visitors from the States come through?” Guy asked. The man nodded, and Guy moved away from the desk. Gray followed. Gray memorized the layout. The terminal for private jets was much smaller than the commercial terminal.
Guy stopped at another desk just inside the main doors. While he conversed with the woman, Gray looked around for a way to leave a clue. At this point, any clue would do, no matter how small. He could only hope that Regan would find it.
Gray nudged Guy. “I need to use the restroom.”
“You just went on the plane. You’ll be fine.” Guy turned back to the woman. Based on their conversation, she was in charge of making sure his vehicle was packed and ready to go. She informed Guy it would still be a few minutes although the workers were moving as quickly as they could. Guy grunted his disapproval but handed her a plain white envelope. Gray guessed it was loaded with cash paying for the woman’s silence and to look the other way at whatever Guy’s cargo was. Whatever business Guy had running here, it was a well-oiled machine.
A stand of brochures on the desk caught Gray’s attention. He flipped through the bright, shiny flyers, finally landed on one he could use. A full-color image showed people laughing and raising their beers toward the camera. Young and old graced the photo. G and G Brewing and Hostel spelled out in large letters across the top of the pamphlet. Guy’s hostel.
Gray let his arm drop to his side, keeping the flyer out of view of Guy. He let go and it fell to the floor. Gray casually used his toe to move the pamphlet until it stuck under the desk. He stepped on the remaining edges sticking out to keep it hidden from Guy.
It was weak but it was all he had to work with. Hopefully, Regan would notice the paper on the floor. But now he had to stay with Guy until they reached the hoste
l, otherwise Regan would be walking into danger without him there. If Gray escaped, what would Guy do to Regan? Would he hurt her? Would he hold her hostage? Or, would he just kill her?
The hostel was located in the middle of the jungle, if memory served him. The remoteness of the location would offer many places to hide a body. One that would most likely never be found. The thought of going there with Guy made Gray nervous, but his choices were limited. He couldn’t try to escape here at the airport with so many of Guy’s ‘employees’ watching their every move.
“Your vehicle is ready, sir,” the woman said in Spanish. Gray was fluent but kept up the pretense that he couldn’t understand anything said. Maybe it would come in useful. He needed to stay alert and focused for what was to come. It was to Gray’s benefit that most everyone spoke English at Guy’s hostel since Guy didn’t know Gray understood Spanish now.
Gray followed Guy out of the building. A black SUV was idling at the curb. The vehicle was obnoxious and stuck out in this country where most people drove older, smaller cars or work trucks.
“You’re driving,” Guy said.
Gray got in the driver’s seat and felt around for the seat adjuster. His knees were jammed into the dashboard. Gray found the knob, and the seat slowly started to move back. His knees felt instant relief.
Guy entered the vehicle on the passenger side rear and latched his seat belt. Guy pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants and aimed it at Gray’s head. Gray’s heart sped up and sweat beaded his forehead.
“Don’t try anything. You take a wrong turn, I shoot you. You try and wreck the car, I shoot you. I’ll live through the crash, but you won’t.”
Gray nodded his head in understanding. He dropped the gear shift into drive and awaited Guy’s instructions. The headlights cut through the night. The sky was pitch black but would be lightening soon with the sunrise.
“Take the CA-5 until I tell you to turn off.”
