12
BOBBY REACHED THE rear of the building and the door that said Men and kept walking straight to the exit sign. He slipped out the back. Nothing but unlit dirt landscape separated the two buildings and several airplane hangars.
The shadowy figure of the man he was following stalked toward the hangar Bobby assumed to be Zone 2. Bobby flattened himself against the wall, patiently waiting for the right time to pursue but avoid notice. The instant the man disappeared into the hangar, Bobby was on the move, closing the distance with practiced, stealthy speed.
Angry male voices lifted in the air as Bobby approached the open back doors. As he had before, he flattened himself against the wall, and then listened.
“Look, Rocky,” a familiar male voice said. Bobby recognized it as belonging to the man he was following.
“Look, my ass, Gavin,” Rocky growled, as Bobby inched around the corner to bring the two men, both in flight suits, into view. Rocky, who Bobby knew to be thirty-four and two years a civilian, was still in battleready physical condition, clean-shaven, his jaw set tight. He had something in his hand by his side, as he continued, “You adjusted the odometer on the plane. Why?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gavin said. “This is ridiculous. We have a show about to start.”
Rocky tossed a bag of white powder onto the ground between him and Gavin. “And one of my planes was about to go up for that show with fucking cocaine inside. Explain that, Gavin. And don’t feed me a line of crap. In fact…I don’t want an explanation. I get that you’re a lowlife piece of shit. So get off my property and do it now.”
Bobby officially knew where Rocky stood. He was clean in all of this. Thank the Lord above, because that made things easier for Bobby. After he reported, his duty was done. Gavin would be placed under surveillance but he was unlikely to lead them anywhere but to another contact to monitor, who might be of interest.
“You’ve got this all wrong, Rocky,” Gavin insisted.
“You messed with the wrong man’s operation, Gavin,” Rocky ground out in obvious anger, his words whiplash sharp. “I’m doing you a favor, letting you walk, because you saved my life in Iraq. But we’re even now. If I see you again—”
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Gavin said.
“There’s no asking about this, Gavin,” Rocky assured him. “Get the hell out of here before I have you removed.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Gavin said, his voice thickening with rebellion. “The men I work for like what I’m doing. They won’t want it to end. I’ll arrange compensation on your behalf.”
“You have thirty seconds to get out of here,” Rocky said. “Or I will call the police. My debt of gratitude extends only so far.”
Gavin glared. “You’ll be sorry,” he said. “They’ll make you pay. They’ll destroy you.”
“Let them try,” Rocky ground out.
Gavin laughed bitterly. “You are so going to regret this. I’ll be back, and sooner rather than later.” He stormed toward the exit, and Bobby slipped quickly to the side of the building, waiting until the right time to head back to Jennifer’s side. He was relieved to know that the part of the investigation which involved the Texas Hotzone and Bobby himself was most likely over. By tomorrow, Bobby would be free to focus on Jennifer.
JENNIFER ORDERED two sausage wraps and a large Coke for her and Bobby to share, as they had in the past. Then she realized how assumptive that was and quickly adjusted. “Make that two Cokes.” But how was she going to carry them? “No. Never mind. Stick with the one large.”
Behind the grill, the fifty-something cowboy, with a round belly, arched one grayish-black brow. “One large? You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” she said. “It’s not like a Coke is a big decision.” The cowboy’s brow arched up a bit more, as if he didn’t believe her.
Jennifer pursed her lips. “One large.”
He chuckled and turned away. “What’s so funny?” Jennifer asked, frowning.
“I’ve been married twenty years,” the cowboy said, filling a cup from a portable drink machine to the right of the grill. “Young people dating tend to amuse me.”
“I’m not on a date,” Jennifer said quickly.
The cowboy chuckled again. “Of course you aren’t.”
“I was worried about my hands being full.”
He offered her the drink. “Of course you were.” With a nod, he indicated a small portable table. “Fixin’s for the sandwiches, over there. Show’s about to start, so you better make those links tasty quick.” He grinned. “Good luck with that drink.”
Jennifer bit back another denial, heat flooding her cheeks, as she turned to the “fixin’s.” A few minutes later she stood outside the building waiting on Bobby, wondering what was taking so long, especially considering the planes were lining up on the runway. The crowd was cheering; the show was about to begin.
Jennifer decided it was time to go find Bobby. She marched toward the door when the bag broke open, the sandwiches hitting the ground.
“Oh, no, it didn’t,” Jennifer murmured, bending down to try to pick up the mess and cringing. The sausages had dirt all over them. It was a mess.
Fortunately, Jennifer eyed the large metal trash can she just happened to be standing next to—which considering the smell, in hindsight, might not have been the brightest move, until now, when she needed said trash can.
She set the drink down and started to gather up the ruined sandwiches when the soda tumbled over, followed by Jennifer, as she lost her balance. She hit the wall; her butt, the dirt. “Oh, good grief,” she murmured. She’d never been so clumsy in her life. First she fell in chocolate mousse, now this.
Jennifer maneuvered to get up when she heard a male voice. “You heard me, B.J., cut one of the chutes. Eduardo wants Rocky taught a lesson.” Silence a moment, as if he were listening. “B.J.,” the man said in a harsh whisper, “someone has to die. Now, it can be you or me, or it can be one of those jumpers today. Decide.” Another listening pause and then, “I knew you’d see it my way. Make it happen. I’ll make sure Eduardo knows how helpful you were.”
The air lodged in Jennifer’s throat, every muscle in her body freezing with it, mentally shrinking herself to pea-size in hopes of not being seen. Surely, she’d heard wrong. Gravel crunched on the ground, the man’s footsteps fading. The door opened to the building, and she prayed for Bobby, but it wasn’t him.
Jennifer shoved to her feet and forgot the bag and drink. She ran for the door and grabbed it before it shut, bursting inside.
BOBBY SLIPPED IN the back door of the ticket office and rounded the corner at the same moment Jennifer appeared in the lobby and shouted, “Stop the show! Please. Stop the show.”
Holy shit. He had no idea what was going on, but he wasn’t going to wait to find out. Charging forward, he was at the counter by the time she said, “A chute isn’t going to open. I know a chute isn’t going to open.”
The brunette behind the counter, the only person left in the office, shook her head. “I promise you, ma’am,” she said to Jennifer, “the chutes will open. Please. Go enjoy the show.”
“Jennifer!” Bobby called. “What’s going on?”
She rushed to meet him as he rounded the reception counter. “Bobby. Bobby, thank God. You have to convince them to stop the show.” She fumbled for her purse. “My phone. I’ll call the police. Bobby, I heard—”
He kissed her, not about to allow her to involve herself as a witness in any of this, not with a drug lord involved. “Tell me outside,” he whispered urgently against her lips, grabbing her hand.
“Sorry,” he said to the receptionist. “She’s afraid of skydiving. I shouldn’t have brought her.”
“Good grief,” the woman scoffed. “Usually the dramatics come from the ones jumping, not the ones watching.”
“Bobby!”
Adrenaline pumping, Bobby tugged her out the door. The minute he turned to face her, she s
hoved him. “Hey! Why did you do that?” Her fingers curled in his shirt. “I heard a man on the phone planning an accident for one of the parachuters. We have to do something.”
Bobby’s hands settled on her shoulders. He wanted her nowhere near any of this. “Who said what to whom?”
“A man on the phone,” Jennifer said. “He told someone named B.J. to cut one of the chutes. That Rocky needed a lesson.” She paused. “If they won’t stop those jumps, we have to call the police!”
“Listen to me,” he said. “There are things going on here I don’t want you associated with. You heard nothing. I did. I heard it, and I’ll deal with it. Understand?”
“But—”
“No buts,” he said. “Do as I say so I can go save a life and not worry about yours. Agreed?”
“I…” She hesitated. “Fine. I heard nothing.”
That worked. He wanted details, but he didn’t have time to demand more. Not when seconds could mean lives. He was already speaking to the receptionist before the door could shut behind him. “Do you have an employee named B.J.?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Sergeant Bobby Evans, Special Forces,” he said, leaning across the desk. “Do you have an employee named B.J.?”
A confounded look slid over the woman’s face. “Has B.J. done something wrong?”
Confirmation B.J. worked here. Enough validation to believe Jennifer had nailed the conversation she’d overheard. “Ground the planes. Call off the show.”
“Sergeant Evans,” came the dark bark of male command, “if you have questions about my operation, direct them to me.” It was Rocky. “What seems to be the problem?”
“B.J. is involved with planning an accident during the show. Ground the planes and ground them now.”
Rocky assessed him for all of two hard, icy seconds, then, “Call the planes now, Shari. Ground them.”
“But, Rocky—” she started to argue.
“Do it, Shari!” Rocky insisted, moving to stand behind her. “Do it now! I’m going to the hangar. Call me with confirmation.”
Jennifer burst through the door. “Bobby! The planes are lined up to taxi!”
“Shit!” Rocky and Bobby said at the same moment.
Rocky started running for the back door. Bobby turned to Jennifer. “Stay here.”
Shari grabbed the radio next to the desk. “Wheels on the ground,” she ordered. “I repeat, wheels remain on the ground. Respond with confirmation.”
In a matter of seconds, Bobby joined Rocky at a distant hangar, drawing up short when he heard the sound of gravel and dirt behind him. The two men drew to a halt.
“What the hell,” Rocky said, hands on his hips as he looked behind them.
Bobby turned to find Jennifer running toward him, and added his own curse to the mix.
Rushing to meet her, Bobby kicked himself for bringing her here today. Shackling Jennifer’s arm, he pulled her close, angry at her for not listening. Angry at himself for putting her in danger. “Damn it, woman. I told you—”
“Something is wrong with the radios,” she panted. “We can’t make contact, Bobby. Someone is going to jump out of that plane without a working parachute. Someone is going to die. We have to do something.”
The roar of engines sounded as a plane took off. “No!” Jennifer yelled, gaping at the sky.
Bobby turned to the sky as the second took off, silently cursing.
Frantically, Jennifer repeated, “We have to do something!”
Bobby framed her face with his hands. “Baby, I am. Trust me. This is what I do. I deal with danger all the time. But I need to know you are safe. That man you heard talking—he’s mixed up with some dangerous people.” He pulled the car keys from his pocket and put them in her hand. “Get in the car and lock the doors. Hell. Get in the car and drive away from here.”
Rocky rushed up on them, already talking. “We got a problem,” he said. “The guy I fired tonight, the one who most likely made that call to B.J., he’s in the office ‘helping’ Shari, and I can’t tell Shari he’s dangerous. Not without putting her at risk.” He narrowed his gaze on Bobby. “Exactly who are you and what resources do you have at your disposal?”
Bobby answered cautiously, aware of Jennifer standing with them. He grabbed the Army phone he was carrying. “Special Forces, and I do have resources. I’ll have Gavin dealt with. But right now, at this very moment, considering the time we have to act…we need up in the air. You got a plane and a pilot?”
“I got both,” Rocky said. “What do you have in mind?”
“Once those divers jump, our chances of saving them are next to zero. We need to be in the air, signaling them any damn way we can manage.”
“What are we waiting for?” Rocky asked.
Bobby grabbed Jennifer’s hand, even as he punched a preprogrammed number on the phone. He wasn’t about to leave her on the ground where he couldn’t protect her.
13
JENNIFER’S MIND WAS REELING as Bobby tugged her along with him and entered a huge warehouse where a small puddle jumper of a plane sat in wait. A man lingered by the wing, talking on his cell phone.
“We’re going up, Chris,” Rocky shouted, heading toward the passenger’s entrance of the aircraft with Bobby and Jennifer in his wake. “Get ready to rev up that engine.”
Chris shoved off the plane, ending his call. “What the—?”
“Do it!” Rocky shouted. “I need to be in the air in a flash, and beside the Bluejay.” He eyed Bobby, Jennifer by his side. “That’s the plane B.J. is in. It’s a gamble, but with two planes in the air, B.J. makes the Bluejay the most likely to be the one with the bad chute.” He eyed his watch. “They do twelve minutes of air maneuvers. We have roughly seven minutes to stop those jumpers, and that’s if B.J. doesn’t convince them to jump early.”
Bobby gave a quick nod and asked Rocky several questions about B.J. and Gavin, before he yanked out a cell phone and dialed. Then, “I have a Charlie Foxtrot, I repeat, an effed-up situation getting worse. Two confirmed members of the cartel, both armed and dangerous, both ex-Special Forces, in active aggressive action with several hundred civilians on-site.” He went on to explain Gavin’s and B.J.’s positions and confirmed Rocky as cleared of suspicion.
Jennifer was gaping; Bobby knew about whatever it was that was going on here. He not only knew, he was on duty. He wasn’t here for her, or for the wedding. He was here for his job.
He ended his call and gave Rocky a sharp nod. “We’re set,” he assured him.
Jennifer felt sick to her stomach and she turned toward the exit, ready to get away from Bobby. She was determined to go help Shari—somehow, someway—and then get the heck out of here, and out of Bobby’s life, once and for all. She couldn’t believe what a fool she’d been to believe Bobby had come back for her. Because deep down, as much as she hadn’t been willing to admit it, that was what she’d thought, that was what she hoped.
“Go, Chris!” Rocky yelled. “Get us up beside the Bluejay, and do it now!”
Suddenly, Jennifer was lifted off the ground. She yelped in surprise, But there was no stopping the forward movement of her body; Bobby was behind her, his strong arms and body maneuvering her into the plane.
In protest, Jennifer whirled around to confront him, but the engine roared to life and swallowed her words before they were spoken. Bobby maneuvered her toward the wall and started to strap her with a parachute.
“Bobby, no!” she said, shouting to be heard. “I’m not jumping out of this plane.”
He dropped to one knee in front of her, putting some sort of harness around her leg. “Good,” he called out. “I don’t want you to. But if for any reason, you have to, this chute will auto-deploy at the right altitude. I’ll be nearby to make sure you’re safe.”
“If I’m being forced to jump out of a plane, Bobby, you failed to keep me safe!” She tried to get by him. “Let me off!” The plane started to move, and she fought to pass Bobby. He held her firml
y, easily, as if no effort was exerted. “Let me off!”
He pulled her close, his lips near her ear. “I won’t leave you on the ground where I can’t look after you.”
The plane was already moving, taxiing onto the runway, and there wasn’t anything she could do but accept that she was going up when it did. “Let me go!” she repeated.
He eased back, holding her stare. Then he reached forward and tightened several straps to pull her chute into place. He leaned close. “If anything happens to the pilot, you jump. If you think something is going to happen to the plane, you jump. Understood?”
“Yes,” she said. She understood all right—he’d come back and dragged her into hell all over again. Breaking her heart wasn’t enough. He had to scare the crap out of her, as well.
She watched him strap on his own chute, mesmerized by the confident way he moved, by the primal readiness he wore as a second skin—in touch with that animal side we all possess. Ready to hunt, fight, survive. He wasn’t going to let anyone die on his watch.
Suddenly, anger turned to pride. He was going to save lives today. He had saved lives. Nothing else mattered. The plane jerked off the runway into the air, wind whistling around them.
Jennifer curled into the corner, as far from the door as possible. Bobby and Rocky were the opposite, fearlessly at the edge of the gaping hole that led to a steep drop down.
They pulled up next to another plane, and divers crowded at the plane’s door. Rocky was shouting and cutting his hands through the air. Bobby, too. “No jump! No jump!”
Relief washed over Jennifer as the stunt divers seemed to understand. Hand signals were exchanged. The plane was going to land. But Jennifer looked out the window, and the divers from other planes were gone—they’d jumped. She hoped and prayed they were safe. At least, no one had jumped from the plane with B.J. inside—the one they knew had a bad parachute.
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