Hotshot

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Hotshot Page 23

by Mann, Catherine


  He could control them by threatening the other.

  He could also kill one to intimidate the other.

  Or sell them both to flesh peddlers for more start-up money once he left the country. His eyes dropped to the teenager’s belly. That baby could actually bring big bucks on the black market, and the leggy do-gooder was a knockout.

  He couldn’t afford to leave these cash cows behind with his other plans incinerating.

  Lewis waggled the gun at them. “You’re both coming with me.”

  Shay Bassett lurched forward.

  He pressed the gun between her breasts. “Do what I say, or the pregnant girl dies first.”

  That stopped her cold. He inched around, hooked an arm with the girl, and hauled her to his side. He shifted the gun fast and pointed it at her big stomach.

  The teen sniveled.

  “Stop the whining, bitch, or I’ll cut you straight through to the kid and leave you to bleed out.” He’d done that and worse before. He was just smart enough never to get caught. Before now.

  Somehow he had to salvage this. He wouldn’t be able to come back, but hopefully he could still secure a position in the Central American group tied to his here. He hadn’t started there and had only made brief visits in the past, but international gang ties were strong.

  Yeah, he was making this work. Thinking on his feet. His old survival instincts hadn’t been dulled by the soft life, after all.

  “You.” He nodded at Shay. “Stay plastered to my side, or I will hurt your little friend here.”

  The footsteps got close. Too close. Time had run out.

  “Stop,” Lewis shouted through the doorway. “I have two hostages. One of them is pregnant. I will shoot to kill if you charge at us.”

  The teen whimpered, but Shay stayed silent. Anger radiated from her, almost overpowering the fear in her eyes. Too bad he didn’t have time to enjoy her. Maybe later, to celebrate escaping.

  “We hear you,” that chick agent, Wilson, answered from the hall. “Don’t do anything stupid. We can work something out.”

  His mind raced, reshaping his plans. “All I want is a plane gassed up and ready to take me out of the country.” He eased out into the hall, both women in front of him, gun visible for any unbelievers.

  He kept his back to the janitor’s closet, protecting himself from behind until he was sure they understood he meant business. He scanned the dozen or so people in the hall. His eyes landed on the arrogant air force pilot who thought he was so squeaky clean, better than everyone else because he’d risen above it all. “And there’s the man I want to fly us out of the country.”

  Late afternoon sun baking the flight line, Vince climbed out of the limousine for the second time. He’d had doubts about how this day would end, but he’d never expected it to finish here.

  And certainly not with a gun pointed at Shay.

  That bastard Lewis had chosen his hostages well, two women, one pregnant. Vince wasn’t sure how they were going to get out of this alive, but he would die trying to save them. Thank God Paulina had been able to orchestrate this trip to the airport where his Pilatus waited.

  Lewis had promised to release them once they reached Central America. Not that Vince believed him. This bastard wasn’t letting anyone go, and Vince knew damned well he would be the first in line to die. At least they’d bought more time.

  Vince had driven them to the airport in a limousine. Now he needed to prepare for takeoff.

  He wanted to look at Shay, to let her know somehow that he was sorry for the way he’d left things between them, but he feared the distraction. For sure, that woman could steal his attention faster than anyone he’d ever met.

  The Pilatus painted with civilian colors gleamed on the tarmac. His crew, dressed in civilian clothes, readied it for flight. Thank God for those relaxed grooming standards that allowed them to blend in.

  Lewis hadn’t met any of them, and so far it appeared the California congressman genuinely didn’t have a clue as to what his aide had been doing. So Lewis was in the dark about their operation here. Surely he wouldn’t have asked for Vince to fly him out if he’d had even an inkling of their surveillance operation.

  Vince studied the bastard’s face, and he appeared uninterested in the surroundings, although Lewis hadn’t so much as loosened his grip on the gun as he sat beside the women in the limo.

  Vince walked up to his squadron mates, pretending to ready his plane for flight.

  Smooth handed Vince flight paperwork. “Sir, the tanks are full. Looks like you might want to do a center of gravity calculation, since you have four people on board.” With a contoured beard, khaki pants, and a polo shirt with the airport logo, Smooth shed all hints of his military persona. “You might need to put two passengers in the rear to keep the CG far enough aft and someone on the opposite side of the cockpit from you for lateral stability.”

  Vince understood moving passengers aft, that happened all the time, but what the fuck was lateral stability?

  Smooth winked at him, took out a slip of paper and placed it on the clipboard. “If you could sign for the fuel right here, please.”

  Vince snagged the pen dangling from the clipboard and looked down at the paper. Smooth had written: “No bolts in aft right seat belt.”

  The perfect place to put Lewis and pitch the plane.

  Now that would sure screw up somebody’s “lateral stability.”

  He scrawled his name on the sheet, and Smooth put it in his pocket. “Have a good flight, sir.” He extended his hand. “Don’t forget to do your CG calculations.”

  “Thanks.” Vince clasped his crewdog pal’s hand, this handshake the only way to say good-bye, good luck, stay vertical. “I appreciate you guys getting her ready. See ya later.”

  And damn it, he would. Failure wasn’t an option. Not with Shay’s life in the balance.

  Lewis approached with both women and, for the first time since they’d left the university, Vince let himself look in Shay’s eyes. He would have been better off keeping his distance, because he found all the same things echoing around inside him.

  Fear, regret, apology and, ah hell, a love that they’d both worked to erase for seventeen years.

  Love.

  Vince entered the plane first, ever aware of the gun too close to Shay, and took his place up front. He looked back at Lewis, who was making himself comfy directly behind Vince.

  Time for a seat change. “We are a little heavy. I need to do a quick worksheet to make sure we can get off the ground.”

  Lewis snapped, “Whatever you fucking got to do. Get to it.”

  “Take the gags off the women. I need to ask some questions.”

  Lewis eyed him suspiciously. Vince kept his face blank until finally Lewis complied.

  Keep eyes off Shay.

  Her gasp for fresh air still sucker punched him.

  Vince started filling out the sheet, going through a process he didn’t need, but the bastard wouldn’t know better. “What do you weigh, Lewis?”

  “About two hundred pounds.”

  “And Amber, what do you weigh?”

  “Um,” she whispered, almost too soft hear, poor kid. “One hundred fifty-five at my last doctor’s appointment.”

  “Shay, how about you?” he risked a side glance at her.

  She held her composure, other than the sweat dotting her forehead. “One thirty-five.”

  “Yeah, we’re a bit uneven,” he lied. “I need two people to sit all the way in the back seats and, Lewis, you need to be on the opposite side of me.”

  Lewis leaned forward in his seat. “What kind of bullshit is that?”

  “Sorry.” Vince shrugged. “We need a stable center of gravity, or the plane won’t get off the ground.”

  Lewis studied him through narrowed eyes for what felt like for-frickin’-ever before rising. “All right, whatever.” He waved the gun at Amber. “Move up to the front, and let me switch sides. No funny stuff, asshole.”

  Amber
moved out of the seat to the front and allowed Lewis to switch sides. “All right, bitch,” he called to Shay. “Get back here and sit down.”

  Vince hated putting Shay so close to that bastard, but they needed the pregnant girl as far away from Lewis as possible. Shay would want that.

  And Shay could help him subdue Lewis.

  Vince frowned. Now wasn’t that a kick-in-the-butt revelation. When had he gone from seeing her as a fragile victim to valuing her as a strong woman who could hold her own?

  Maybe there’d been reason for her to hold back from him after all. He hadn’t earned the right to look below that watch. He wouldn’t have seen the strength it took for her to survive.

  It seemed he had a copilot for this flight, after all. She just happened to be riding in a seat behind him.

  He exhaled hard and pulled his focus in tight. Vince called for engine start and readied the airplane to fly, all the while keeping an eye on Lewis in the mirror overhead.

  Lewis kept his gun trained on Amber, while he instructed Shay to buckle his seat belt. He sagged back in his seat. “All right, Major Deluca, let’s get this plane airborne. I want the radio on broadcast. No sneaky maneuvers over a headset. One false move, and I’ll throw one of our hostages out the hatch without a parachute.”

  Amber whimpered, pressing her hand to her swollen stomach.

  Vince mumbled low, “Hang in there, kiddo.”

  He checked the prop, cranked the engine, rolled the plane out onto the runway. As ordered, he kept his radio contact public and minimal. The engine rumbled louder and louder, the plane gaining speed, yoke vibrating in his hand as the wheels spun along the runway.

  Whoosh.

  The nose tipped upward. The Pilatus soared. Hogs and planes. He was in control here in the open sky much like on the open road, he reminded himself. His crew had come through in offering an edge.

  He swept out over the water. He didn’t want to consider that they could die in a crash, but Lewis was a wild card with that gun. Vince couldn’t risk the Pilatus diving into a subdivision.

  “Miss Bassett,” Amber sniffled from beside him, “please don’t let anything happen to my baby.”

  “I’m going to do my best.” Shay leaned forward in her seat.

  Amber circled her hands over her belly. “I’ve spent so much time hating this baby for ruining my life, but I did this. The baby didn’t. Do you think I brought this on myself with all those bad thoughts?”

  Vince wanted to bark that the asshole with the gun was responsible for all of this. However, flying the plane and watching for a sign of weakness from Lewis seemed the better alternative.

  “Of course not.” Shay’s gaze flickered to Vince then back to the girl. “You didn’t do anything to deserve this. Your baby knows you love her.”

  “But I still want to give her away. Even if I live, I want her to be brought up by somebody else. Not that it even matters anymore, because I’m gonna die, aren’t I? And I deserve it.”

  Lewis groaned. “Good Lord, you people. Do I really have to listen to this shit all the way to Central America? Hey wait. I have the gun, so that means I don’t have to listen to anything.”

  Shay jabbed a finger at their kidnapper. “Unless you want to deal with a hysterical pregnant teenager or a totally pissed off me, you’ll let us talk so I can keep her calm.”

  Lewis chuckled low and dark. “Damn lady, you’re hot.”

  Vince’s fists tightened around the yoke as he imagined all the ways he would pummel that piece of garbage into the ground once he got the gun out of his hands.

  Shay lowered her arm. “Amber, you have to forgive yourself.”

  Her chin quivered. “But I slept with Caden. He’s my baby’s daddy. If anyone in the Mercenaries knew, they would have killed me, maybe even my little girl.”

  Caden? That kid from Apocalypse. The kid who’d complimented Shay’s yellow kicks. The one Shay had said was banging some crack whore in a bathroom stall during the bomb threat. No wonder Amber was scared as hell for herself and her baby.

  He checked Lewis in the mirror and, well, look at that, it appeared even the jerk was actually getting wrapped up in Amber’s life story. Vince monitored that gun, waiting for just the right moment to pitch the plane.

  Amber cradled her stomach, rocking. “Caden used to live next door. We walked home together in elementary school. I thought he was still my friend. Because of everything you were making happen for us, I thought maybe we all wouldn’t have to be enemies anymore. I was wrong about so many things.”

  Slowly, the gun wobbled, just a hint, then more until the barrel pointed toward the deck of the airplane.

  Vince rammed the yoke forward.

  Everyone jerked upward in their seats, restrained by their belts. Except Lewis.

  The bolts snapped loose.

  Lewis slammed into the ceiling.

  The gun tumbled free.

  Vince pulled out of the dive and slapped on the autopilot. Amber’s screams raked the air, along with Lewis’s guttural curses as the kidnapper crashed to the deck.

  Vince launched out of his seat and on the gun. He leveled cold steel at Lewis. The bastard tried to elbow up. Vince’s hand fisted.

  Shay’s foot shot out, and she kicked Lewis in the jaw.

  Lewis’s head smacked the floor. His eyes rolled back in his head as he lost consciousness.

  Vince grinned. “That’s the way to bring it.”

  She made one helluva copilot.

  Vince grabbed Lewis by the collar and rolled him onto his stomach. He opened a storage cabinet and rummaged around until he found the plastic ties used to hold wire bundles together. He restrained Lewis’s feet and hands, gathered the gun, and moved back to the pilot seat.

  He buckled himself back behind the yoke.

  Amber screamed again.

  Vince jerked, and the plane bobbled. “It’s all right, kiddo. He’s not going to hurt you.”

  He steadied the craft just as Amber screamed again.

  Shay lurched from her seat to the front. “What’s wrong?”

  “It hurts.” Amber rocked, tears streaming down her face. “It really hurts. It feels like the baby is coming.”

  Shay placed her hand on the girl’s stomach. Her eyes went wide. “Okay, it could just be a Braxton Hicks.” She glanced up. “Practice contractions. Even if they’re real, this is your first baby. It takes a long time for your body to prepare itself for labor.”

  “But it feels like I gotta push.”

  Shay shushed the teen. “There will be plenty of time.” She peeled off her watch and gave it to Amber. “Why don’t you start timing your contractions, and we can see how far along you—Oh no.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. Vince’s stomach took the nose dive the plane hadn’t gotten to. “What’s wrong?”

  “Amber’s water broke.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Amber was going to have this baby now.

  Shay knew stress could bring on labor early—in Amber’s case three weeks early—but it hadn’t even entered her mind that this baby would be born in an airplane. Likely Amber had been in labor since back at the university. The plane going into a dive probably moved things along.

  Not that she could complain. Vince’s fast thinking and skill had saved their lives.

  His broad shoulders in the front seat reassured her now. He watched in the mirror, steady as he radioed ahead for an ambulance to meet them when they landed back where they’d started—the closest airport, since they’d flown out over Lake Erie.

  Lewis’s moans as he awakened mingled with Amber’s whimpers through another contraction. Shay’s wrist burned from where the rope had cut into her old scar, but she couldn’t let it distract her.

  Only five minutes had passed since Amber’s water broke, and Shay had realized the baby’s head had already crowned. There was no way to keep this baby in until they landed. She’d moved the teen to a more open backseat. She would have to deliver this child in an airpla
ne with nothing more than the first aid kit spread open beside her. Her nurse’s training had covered emergency deliveries. She’d just never expected to use that part of her schooling.

  This had to be one of the fastest first labors on record. Although maybe Amber had been suffering for hours and hadn’t shown it. The kid had been through so much that pain was nothing new to her.

  Shay knelt in front of her, using the seat like a birthing chair. To think that empty center section had contained monitors the other time she’d been on this plane to receive the briefing from Vince’s crewmates a few short days ago.

  Aircraft vibrating under her knees, she focused on her patient and making everything as sterile as possible with the limited supplies in the first aid kit. She’d already done a mental run-through of Amber’s chart, done a verbal review as well. Vince had a doc on standby on the radio to offer advice if Amber went into distress.

  With the baby fully crowned, there was nothing left to do but coach Amber through another contraction. And holy cow, this one looked painful. Amber’s face contorted as her belly tightened and spasmed. The girl’s fist turned white-knuckled from clutching Shay’s watch.

  “Hold your knees and push, Amber, push.”

  “I am pushing,” she screamed, red-faced and panting.

  “Hey,” Vince called from the front. “Count with me while your nurse works her medical magic. Listen up, okay?”

  His voice carried just the right blend of calm and authority, while Amber struggled with pain. “One, two, you’re doing great, four, five, come on, Amber, stay with me, seven, eight, you’re just about done, ten.”

  Amber gasped and sagged in the gap before the next contraction began. “You count too slow. Ditch the small talk.”

  “You got it, kiddo.”

  Shay dabbed the girl’s forehead with tissue from the kit. “It’s going to be over soon. Okay, it’s time for you to hold your knees again and push.”

  Amber’s scream built again.

  Lewis groaned from his corner of the deck, his eyes flickering open. “Hey Shay, listen, I’ve got money here, fifty thousand dollars in an envelope in my jacket, and I’ll give it all to you if you’ll just pass me a parachute.”

 

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