Xander King BoxSet

by Bradley Wright

  “Xander?” He heard a whisper come from his right.

  “S-Sam?”

  “Xander, are you all right? I saw the crash from the back of the delivery truck. I was certain you were dead.”

  “What, and miss out on all this fun?”

  “Lean your head to the right.”

  Xander did as Sam asked. He felt a tug at the top of his head and the next thing he saw was Sam with a mouthful of the bag that covered his face.

  “Jesus, did you have to pull out my hair too?” Xander smiled. Damn, it was good to see Sam’s face. Alive. “How much trouble are we in?”

  “The worst kind. We are fifteen thousand feet in the air and there are fifteen of them.” She moved her head in the direction of the men behind her.

  Xander was right: they were in a small cargo plane. Most likely one of BRT’s fleet, the same company as the delivery truck that started this mess. It was almost entirely empty except for the men seated in rows along both sides of the outer walls. There were a few weapons packed against the walls and a couple of parachutes, but other than that, it was just the two of them and a bunch of Russian thugs.

  “Fifteen? That’s all? Cake walk.”

  “I’m afraid not this time, Xander.”

  “How long have we been in the air?”

  “Two hours, we have around three to go.”

  “Two hours? So, you have already figured a way out of here then.” Xander looked at his partner with unwavering confidence.

  “I have. But it’s risky.”

  “My favorite.” He smiled.

  “We both won’t be able to make it, but as long as one of us does, there is hope.”

  “I’ll follow your lead.”

  A shout came from one of the men. “Shut the fuck up back there!”

  Sam shifted around to face him.

  “I have to use the ladies’ room.”

  “There is no ladies’ room. Go in panties.”

  “Come on, where is there for me to go? We are stuck in a plane, for god’s sake.”

  One of Pavlovich’s cronies stood up from his seat and began to walk toward them. The sun cast rays through the windows and showed a smug, thick-necked, and ass-ugly Russian man walking their way. He had a parachute strapped to his back, and as Xander looked beyond him, he could see that all of the men did. They were prepared for anything, it seemed.

  “You think I am going to fall for oldest trick in book, unchain you, so you can have chance at getting free? You think I am that stupid?”

  “No comment.” Xander spoke up.

  “Ah, I see superman is finally awake.”

  “It’s X-Man to you, needle dick.”

  Needle dick? What is this, middle school? The look on Sam’s face confirmed that apparently it was.

  “Big talk coming from little bitch who was so easy to catch.”

  “What, that whole car crash thing back there? All part of my plan.”

  “What is plan now, big talker?”

  “I was thinking about ordering a pizza, does Domino’s air deliver yet?”

  “So, death of you and pretty lady here is joke to you?”

  “Not as much of a joke as that stupid mustache you got there, Magnum, P.I.”

  Sam knew Xander was baiting the man. And though Xander didn’t know it, Sam had counted on this. The Russian stiffened and looked as if he was going to lunge at Xander, but he stopped short, coming right into Sam’s range. Sam snap-kicked the muscle-head in the groin, and he doubled over. She followed that with a snap-kick to the forehead, and he fell forward, flat on his face. Sam’s chains extended just enough to allow a powerful axe-kick levied directly down on the back of his head which knocked him out cold. Fortunately, the plane had hit some turbulence at the same moment, so it didn’t draw the attention of the others. Sam immediately pulled him toward her with her legs, turned around, and fished a set of keys out of the man’s pocket. Xander quickly turned his back to her, and they lined up their hands.

  “See, piece of cake,” Xander added as she undid his shackles. “Now what?” He took the keys from her.

  “This was as far as I got.”

  Just as Xander was moving to undo her chains, they both heard a shout from the front of the plane as one of the men stood and pulled a gun.

  “Shit,” Sam grunted.

  He squeezed off a round, and it ricocheted off the metal floor and managed to bore a hole in the back of the plane.

  Xander dropped the keys and moved the body of the unconscious Russian in front of him and Sam as a shield.

  “STOP!” a man yelled from the front of the plane. “We are in plane. You can’t shoot gun, you imbecile!”

  It was Pavlovich. When he noticed Xander was free of his chains, he instinctively pulled his gun. Xander and Sam were in a real pinch. Sam was still chained. Xander had no weapon, and no protection. The only thing he had going for him was the fact that Dragov clearly wanted him alive, or he would already be dead.

  Big mistake.

  Maybe.

  That fact, coupled with how seriously dumb it would be to fire a gun in this plane, gave Xander a chance. But what the hell could he do?

  The unconscious Russian’s gun. Of course!

  As the men all stood and started to make their way to Xander, he reached for the Russian’s belt and pulled out a pistol and pointed it in their direction. They may be afraid to shoot in there, but Xander was not.

  “Hold it right there, boys.”

  Pavlovich looked to his left and to his right. “What, you going to kill all of us?”

  He had a point. His gun only had a twelve-round magazine, and besides, once he started shooting, he had nothing to hide behind in there; he would be a sitting duck, and so would Sam. All fourteen of the rest of the men were standing now, their guns trained on Xander. The sound of their weapons clicked and clacked as they collectively locked and loaded.

  “Don’t be stupid, Xander.” It was a Russian woman’s voice, but he couldn’t see her. He could hardly hear her over the roar of the plane’s engine, but there was really only one person it could be.

  Zhanna.

  Xander almost fell over in shock when he saw Melanie come out from behind the wall of gunmen.

  “Melanie?” Xander managed.

  “Melania,” she corrected him. Her demeanor was no longer the nerdy girl with the black-framed glasses. Her ever-present smile was still there, but now it looked far more sinister than sunshine.

  Xander looked at Sam. “You’re so fired.”

  “Get him restrained,” Melanie—Melania—ordered.

  “Kyle is going to be so disappointed in you,” Xander told her as he quickly searched the plane for a way out. Four of the men moved toward him. Time was running out. This was the only chance he was going to have to save himself and Sam. If they got him chained once again, the two of them were dead. Barring a miracle Hail Mary from Jack and Kyle, of course. Xander’s noticing last night of a genuine quality in Zhanna may still have merit after all. More likely, however, she’s on this plane too, or somewhere in place just in case Dragov needs a plan B.

  Dragov is going to need a plan B.

  Just then, the cargo latch release button at the back and far side of the plane caught Xander’s eye.

  “Xander, don’t do anything stupid,” Sam pleaded when she followed his eyes to the release button.

  “Who, me?” Xander shrugged.

  Xander shot the unlucky grunt, directly in the forehead, who was in the front of the pack of four goons headed his way, then immediately turned and shot the release button on the cargo hatch. The pressure in the cabin changed almost instantly. They were just above the safety zone for jumping, but Xander didn’t have a choice. The gunmen coming toward Xander dove to the floor for cover in anticipation of another shot. Instead, Xander grabbed the unconscious Russian and began to drag him backward toward the slowly opening hatch. The plane filled with gusts of cold air, and as Xander brought the Russian up as a shield, the group of gun
men began to fire at him. Between the sound of the howling wind and the blasts of guns, Xander could only hope that Sam could hear him when he promised he would be back for her. He figured she probably could since he heard Melanie—or Melania—or whatever the hell her name really was—shout to take Xander alive. However, it was clear when Pavlovich stepped forward that he had made a decision otherwise. There was no time to undo the parachute from the Russian meat shield that Xander was carrying in front of himself. So, as bullets whizzed around him, he backed his way right off the platform, and the back of the plane quickly grew farther and farther away as he began free-falling into the deep blue sky. Probably not what Tom Petty had in mind when he wrote the song. Xander had managed to wrap his arms and legs around the unconscious man and was holding on to him like a cat falling down the trunk of a tree. It wasn’t a second later that he saw Pavlovich and four other men dive out of the back of the cargo plane after him.

  22

  A Thin Line Between Love and Hate

  “What the hell do you mean you just left?”

  Sarah was sure this time, she actually saw smoke coming out of Director Manning’s ears.

  “What the hell is going on over there, Sarah? You were supposed to be in London, then I find out—no thanks to Jack, ‘cause he all of a sudden isn’t communicating—that you all were in Tuscany the entire time? Now you’re here? Needless to say you are gone if you don’t have an absolutely perfect explanation!”

  For the first time since her encounter with Xander in the bedroom of his Tuscan wonderland, she understood why he had been so paranoid of her. Just moments ago, on the way to Manning’s office in Langley, Virginia, she was stopped by a sort of nerdy looking man just outside CIA headquarters. He identified himself as Marvin “you can call me Marv” Cameron. Which meant nothing to Sarah. Then he said he was friends with the late Sean Thompson, which vaguely rang a bell, and finally he explained that he had been helping Xander King and Sam Harrison for a few years now. Though she still didn’t know the name, she was able to make the connection. Marv went on to explain to her that Xander was in some real trouble, but he couldn’t get a hold of him. Sarah didn’t let on how much she knew, but when Marv said he tracked her down because he was given a request to check into a few things by a man named Jack Bronson, who was currently with Xander, Sarah took a moment to catch her breath and let Marv have his say.

  “Why aren’t you with Xander in Tuscany?” Marv asked her.

  Sarah was a little weary, but she took the time to explain that Xander had the impression that she was compromised. That is when Marv explained the conversation that he had with Jack, and that is when her world shifted on its axis. She hadn’t listened to the voice mail that Kyle left a couple of hours earlier. So she didn’t know that Xander and Sam had been taken. She was immediately infuriated with herself for leaving when Xander needed her most. She was even more distraught when Marv explained to her that he found out that Melanie, Xander’s trusted assistant, was actually a mole for Dragov, and the one who told Pavlovich where they were in Tuscany. Sarah felt horrible. Xander had reacted poorly, granted, but there really was a mole. He just got caught up and took it out on the wrong person.

  “I have to relay all of this to Manning, right now! Come with me!” she told Marvin. That was right before he blew her mind again, forcing the world to re-shift its axis entirely.

  “Sarah.” Marv glared into Sarah’s eyes. “That is the last thing you’re going to want to do. Manning is working for Dragov.”

  “No way.”

  “He knew all about Melanie.”

  “No way.”

  “And he knew all about the attacks that you helped save Xander from in the Virgin Islands and at the hospital in San Diego.”

  “That—that’s just not possible. Manning is the one that put me in charge of watching Xander in the first place.”

  “Exactly. So you would be able to keep him informed on exactly what Xander was up to, and who he was targeting.”

  “So that Manning could then relay it to Dragov,” Sarah said to no one.

  “That’s right, Sarah. And when word got back that Xander had found his parents’ killer, that’s when Dragov began to take action. Dragov was lucky that my intel wasn’t good.”

  “Your intel?” Sarah looked baffled.

  “Yes, I’m the one that told Sean that I thought Sanharib Khatib could be the guy. I told Sean to not let Xander know until we were sure, but Xander can be very persuasive. And now, because Director Manning kept the info from Xander that Dragov was actually the murderer, Sean is dead.”

  Sarah didn’t know what to do with all of that information. The only thing she wanted to do was get back on a plane and get to Moscow so she could try to help Xander. Now, here she was, taking a tongue-lashing from this turncoat, wrinkly-ass, fat shit Manning because Marv told her it would be best to act like they knew nothing. Marv said Manning would ask questions, probe her, to see if Sarah was on to him.

  Sure enough . . .

  Manning grew tired of waiting for Sarah to pull out of her silent stupor. “You’d better tell me that Xander tried to turn you against me, but then you decided to do the right thing and come back here instead of listening to him!”

  And there it was. Marv was right. The only thing Manning cared about in that moment was if he was burnt. He would want to know if she’d contacted anyone. But she hadn’t. She would let Xander take care of Manning. Right now she just needed to get out of there so she could meet her new friend Marv at the airport so they could get their asses to Moscow!

  “That’s exactly what happened, Director Manning.” Sarah managed her most impressive pouty face. “Xander took advantage of me. The only reason he wanted so badly for me to be around was to find out what you were up to. I told him to go fuck himself when he said you were compromised.” Sarah was impressed at the way her own voice sounded. Convincing.

  Director Manning’s entire demeanor changed. As if the storm clouds of concern in his mind had lifted. “Good. Compromised,” he huffed, liking the sound of that.

  Sarah’s skin was crawling. She wanted to shoot that old fucker right in his blood-red wrinkly forehead. Time to make for certain once and for all whether Manning is truly working against Xander, and possibly for Dragov.

  Sarah probed, “I’ll grab a team and go take him down. He won’t see us coming at his villa in Tuscany.”

  Here it was. If Director Manning was on the up-and-up, he of course would want to put an end to Xander’s free rein. However, if he wanted otherwise, that meant he knew that Xander had already been captured. Sarah waited. The air in the room seemed thick enough to see.

  “You know what, Sarah? Fuck Xander King. Let him try to go in there and take out Dragov. No matter what happens, we win.”

  And there it was. Sarah was disgusted. She couldn’t believe the uphill climb that Xander had unknowingly been up against. Sarah stood and told Manning that she would await further instruction. Manning told her to be ready in case he called.

  She sure as hell would be.

  An hour later, Sarah was sitting aboard a Gulfstream jet beside Marv and across from the CIA’s director of espionage, Mary Hartsfield. It seemed that Jack Bronson and Mary Hartsfield “go way back” and Jack had made a phone call to her from Xander’s G6 as it was making its way to Moscow, letting her know that Xander and Sam were taken.

  Sarah was devastated. Once she caught her breath, she was shocked when Mary wasn’t all that surprised to hear about Director Manning’s corruption. The fact that it came from Jack probably helped; Mary’s eyes twinkled when she mentioned his name. They clearly had a romantic history. It also probably didn’t hurt that Mary would be at the top of the list to replace Manning as the head of the CIA. She had to be sick and tired of his shit by now.

  All she could do now was hope that Xander, though clearly in trouble, was at least not in any immediate danger.

  23

  Pistols and Parachutes

  (not a good mix)


  The power of the wind against Xander’s back as he plummeted toward the earth below was strong enough to pin him against the Russian—aka his parachute. Before he could deploy the parachute, he would have to turn the man around so that they were face to face. Using his jujitsu grip, he slowly turned the man toward him. As he did so, Pavlovich and his four merry men arranged their bodies into aerodynamic dive positions, arms at hips, legs together straight out behind them. They were currently rocketing toward him. Gaining fast. Xander, because he had to hold this rhino of a man in order to use him as a parachute, didn’t have the luxury of a dive position.

  Xander finally managed to get the man turned around, and as the first of the Rocket Men approached, he managed to acquire a firm grip on the pistol. He had seven shots and maybe five thousand feet to get himself out of this mess before he had to open the chute.