“I’d call that a successful take off,” he said when no calls came over the radio from the local authorities ordering them to return to shore. He glanced over at the Duchess. She was white-knuckling the edge of her seat. “‘Hold tight’ was just a figure of speech, darlin’. You can relax now.”
“I don’t want to drown.”
“And I don’t want to skinny dip in the Arctic Sea. Since neither of those two things looks like they’re gonna happen today, I think we’re both in good shape.”
Slowly, she let go of the seat and sank against the backrest. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Just…thank you.”
Guilt slithered up Jimmy’s spine, but he steeled himself against it. If she knew the truth, knew he was using her to find her father just so he could hand him over to a Colombian drug lord, she’d abandon him the first chance she got and he’d lose whatever leverage he had.
“Slipping into Jamaica under the radar is child’s play compared to some of the ops I worked as a SEAL.”
He could feel her eyes on him staring intently.
“Why did you quit being a SEAL?”
Jimmy shifted uncomfortably and glanced at her. She was so close. The confines of the cockpit would have it no other way. Her soft, natural scent was all up in his nose. Not the hands-off stuff she usually wore, but the clean, delicate scent of a woman. Damn shame proximity didn’t mean they were in the same hemisphere. He refocused his gaze on the horizon.
She faced forward. “Well, if you ever feel the need to talk about it, I promise I won’t judge.”
Jimmy snorted. “That’s like the Pope promising not to condemn a sinner.”
“I deserve that.” She settled back in her seat. “I haven’t been very fair to you. I suppose I’ve let my mum’s poor opinion of American men influence me. You’ve done nothing to deserve my scorn. For that, I’m sorry.”
Her apology only ratcheted up his guilt. He gripped the yoke harder than was necessary. “Always trust your instincts, darlin’. Going with your gut usually won’t steer you wrong.”
They sat in silence, only the whirr of the engine filling the cabin.
At length, the Duchess said, “Obviously, something terrible happened to you when you were a SEAL.”
“Like I told you before, I learned the hard way that rehashing the past only leads to the bottom of a Jim Beam bottle.”
He expected her to push the issue some more, needling him until he said something he regretted just to shut her up, but she grew quiet again. That surprised him almost as much as she’d surprised him earlier when she made the decision to stay and search for her father.
Sue was right about one thing. The Duchess would be a lot easier to deal with as long as she thought the hunt for her father was her idea. Jimmy had taken a huge risk putting the choice in her lap. He hadn’t had a plan B in place if she’d chosen to go home. When he saw an opportunity to use the information she’d learned from her grandmother to his advantage, he’d taken it, even though it meant preying on her emotions. He wasn’t proud about that, but he was prepared to do whatever he had to do to get Tulio back.
Even if that meant betraying an old friend.
They were forty minutes into the flight, gliding over the water like a pelican in a cloudless blue October sky, when the Duchess spoke again.
“Is Panama your real name?”
Jimmy softly banked the Cessna in a southeasterly direction. When he leveled out the wings, he said, “It is now.”
“So you weren’t born with it.”
“Nope.”
“Where did it come from then?”
“It was my handle back in my SEAL days. I made it legal about a year before I left.”
“Your handle?”
“You know, like ‘Duchess’ is your handle.”
“I would rather it not be.”
“Everybody needs a handle.”
“What was your birth name then?”
“It’s a secret.”
“Fine. Don’t tell me.” She looked out the passenger side window.
He chuckled. “Tell you what, you tell me one of your secrets and I’ll tell you my last name.”
“You’ll show me yours if I show you mine?”
Jimmy couldn’t hold back a grin. “If you insist.”
“Seriously?”
“I’m as serious as a heart attack.”
“I don’t have any secrets.”
“I bet you do.”
The Duchess hesitated so long Jimmy thought she wasn’t going to take the bait. “Fine,” she said suddenly, “I’ve seen the film Dirty Dancing ninety-seven times.”
“‘Nobody puts Baby in a corner?’ That flick?”
“Yes. How do you know that line?”
Jimmy grinned. “I might live on a rock, but it doesn’t mean I live under one. Why ninety-seven times? That seems kind of excessive.”
She stared out the passenger side window. “I like the feeling the film evokes. The close relationship between Baby and her father. When I was little, I used to daydream that Dr. Houseman was my dad.”
“If you’re hoping for Mad Dog Thompson to be a Jewish doctor with a bungalow in the Catskills, you’re in for a huge disappointment, darlin’.”
“Don’t mock me,” she snapped, but then she cracked a smile and they both laughed. “All right, then,” she said. “I’ve told you my secret, now you must tell me yours.”
“One more question. Why else did you watch that movie so many times? It was the guy, wasn’t it?”
“No. Well, not completely.”
“Uh huh.”
An adorable pink flush rose in her cheeks. “It was the dancing. I liked the dancing.”
“Do you like to dirty dance when nobody’s watching, Duchess?”
“You’ll never know. It’s your turn. Your name, Rumpelstiltskin.”
He was still laughing when he said, “Ostergaard.”
“Why is that such a big secret? I thought you were going to tell me you were Paul McCartney’s long lost son or something.”
“Close. I’m Anders Ostergaard’s brother.”
“The Southern rock singer? The one Molly idolizes?”
“Yep.”
“That’s why you acted peculiar when they mentioned your resemblance to him. Molly would simply die if she knew he was your brother.”
“She can’t know,” Jimmy said quickly.
“Why not?”
“Do you want everybody to know you like to lambada?”
“Absolutely not!”
“That’s what I thought. As long as you keep my secret, I’ll keep yours.”
“It’s a deal.”
Jimmy was pushing the yoke forward to dip to a lower altitude when the radio came to life. The voice spoke in accented English. “Amphibious Cessna N2194, MBJ ATC, please respond.”
“Who’s that?” Sophie said.
“We’re approaching Jamaican airspace. Sounds like the Montego Bay welcome wagon.” Flipping the switch for the radio, Jimmy said, “Go ahead, MBJ ATC.”
“Cessna N2194, you do not have permission to land. Avert at once. Repeat. Avert at once. Copy?”
“Copy, boss. Just passing by.”
“Repeat. Cessna N2194, you do not have permission to breach Jamaican airspace. Avert at once. This is your final warning.”
The Duchess sat forward and looked at Jimmy. “What do they mean by warning? What will they do?”
“Damn it. Something’s not right.”
“Of course, it isn’t. We’ve been discovered.”
“Maybe I didn’t drop below the radar fast enough. Or—”
“Or what?”
“Or they knew they were coming.”
“How is that possible?”
“They’ll be expecting us to skirt the southern part of the island and head toward Kingston. We’ll go north and land near Port Maria instead.”
“Is that far from Kingston?”
“It’s on
the north coast and Kingston’s on the south. Fortunately, the distance between the two points is one of the narrowest on the island. It’ll be easy enough to find transportation across. Hold on, darlin’, I’m gonna take this turn hard.”
Jimmy banked the plane to the left. The gauge on the attitude indicator almost went vertical before he evened the wings out and dropped to a lower altitude. “There. Our blip on their radar screen just vanished. That’ll either make the boys up in the tower happy or—”
“Piss them off even more,” the Duchess finished for him. Her face was pale. Her hands were still split between the ceiling and the center console. Her breathless voice came over the headset. “Remember this morning, when I bragged about liking it hard and fast?”
“How could I forget?”
“I lied. I don’t like anything hard and fast. I don’t even like sex very much.”
Jimmy needed to keep his eyes on the sky and his hands steady, but her bald confession made him do a double take. He fought a devilish grin from spreading across his face and lost miserably. “You don’t like orgasms? Who doesn’t like orgasms?”
When she didn’t respond, he risked another glance at her. Her hands were back in her lap and her fingers were laced. She was staring straight ahead, her back stiff, her features pinched. The moniker he’d given her had never suited her more.
He couldn’t help himself. “Have you ever had an orgasm, Duchess?”
“Yes! No—I don’t know.”
Her pretty blush stoked a fire in his belly. “Ah, darlin’—”
The plane jerked hard to the left as if the hand of God had reached down from the sky and flicked the fuselage with its thumb and forefinger.
The Duchess gasped. “What was that? Did we hit a bird?”
“Afraid not.”
The rat-a-tat-tat of bullets ricocheted off the wing and the belly of the plane.
“Shit. Hold on!”
The Duchess shrieked. “Are we being shot at?”
Jimmy pulled back on the yoke, hoping a little more altitude would get them out of range of the antiaircraft machine guns on the ground.
The same accented voice as before came over the radio. “Cessna N2194, MBJ ATC, you’ve been warned. Land now under police escort or you will be purged from the sky.”
“Now hold up a minute, Quick Draw. Ain’t that a little harsh? Why don’t you tell me why you want to shoot me down?”
“The government of Jamaica takes drug trafficking very seriously. Repeat. You will land now under police escort or you will be purged from the sky. This is your final warning.”
“God damn it!” Jimmy punched the cockpit roof with the palm of his hand.
“Can’t you tell them we don’t have any drugs?” The Duchess said.
“If we did have drugs on board, wouldn’t we claim we didn’t? They won’t believe us. Somebody tipped them off. Somebody who doesn’t want us to land in Jamaica.”
“But who wouldn’t want us to land?”
“I can think of a few people.”
“But how would they know where we were going?”
Good question. Florez was unlikely behind this because they had a deal, and the Duchess was no good to Bautista dead. This had to be Albatross. Jimmy needed to tell her about the international arms dealer who made Bautista look like Mr. Rogers, but now wasn’t the best time.
“I have no idea how they found us,” he said honestly. “I’ll climb a little higher. Let’s hope we can make it to the Blue Mountains on the northeast coast. It’ll be harder for the Jamaican Welcome Committee to find us if we land there.”
Jimmy studied the gauges on his instrument panel. They had adequate fuel to keep them in the sky for another thirty minutes or so, but not if he had to keep opening the throttle to gain speed and altitude. If the Jamaicans forced him to abort his contingency plan, the plane would never make it to Haiti. He’d have to land in the Caribbean Sea and hope they could stay afloat until help arrived. Not their best option.
When ten minutes passed without incident, Jimmy relaxed a little. Maybe, just maybe, they were going to make it. They were approaching the Ocho Rios Marine Park where nothing but a narrow strip of beach and a thick tangle of tropical jungle lined the coast. It was a protected area with a low population. Port Maria was on the far side of the park. If all remained calm, they might be able to land there as planned.
Jimmy looked over at the Duchess, took in her stressed features and clasped hands in her lap. She’d resumed her Popsicle pose from earlier.
“If you don’t know the answer, then the answer is no,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“The big O. If you don’t know if you ever had one, then you haven’t.”
She blushed so prettily his dick lurched. “Darlin’, if I didn’t need both my hands to hold on to this wheel, I’d reach over there and show you what you’ve been missing.”
Her soft intake of breath came through the headset. Was she actually intrigued by the suggestion? She couldn’t be. Not a proper lady like the Duchess.
Desire curled low in his belly and Little Sarge pitched a tent in his cargo shorts. His fingers ached to touch her. At ease, Sarge, this ain’t the time and you ain’t the sailor for the job.
A loud explosion rocked the fuselage rattling its bolts. The Duchess screamed. The plane dipped sickly, its nose dragging down and drawing to the left. Jimmy pulled back on the yoke with all his might and somehow managed to bring the nose up. He cursed violently as wisps of smoke filled the cabin and scorched the air.
“What’s happening?” the Duchess shouted over the noise.
“They’ve got a fighter jet in the sky. We’ve been hit. We’re going to have to land if we can.”
“If? What do you mean if?”
“Sorry, darlin’, don’t mean to scare you.”
She was deathly pale. “I can’t drown, Jimmy. I just can’t!”
He didn’t have the heart to point out to her, if he lost control of the plane, they’d more likely die on impact when they hit the water. At this altitude, it would have the same result as plowing straight into the side of a mountain.
The yoke trembled in his hands like a jackhammer making his teeth rattle. He needed both hands to keep the aircraft under control, but the Duchess’ freak-out was breaking his heart. He reached over and gave her hand a tight squeeze. The contact visibly calmed her.
“Everything is gonna be all right, Sophie. Trust me.”
What the hell? Did he really just ask her to trust him? His stomach churned and he tasted vinegar on his tongue, but her frightened whimpers compelled him to feed her more bullshit. “It’s okay, darlin’, I got this. I’m gonna set her down on the water and we’re gonna have a good laugh about this later over a couple of frosty margaritas. I got this, sweetheart,” he paused to swallow the bile in his throat before he went on. “I was trained for stuff like this. You heard what the captain said. I’m drown-proof. I also happen to be crash-proof too.”
“Y-you promise you’ll buy me that margarita?”
Jimmy forced a smile, working himself up to tell her the words she wanted to hear even though they felt like a cyanide capsule in his mouth. Once he bit down on them, it was auf wiedersehen. What the fuck was he thinking?
“Jimmy?” Tears streamed down her beautiful face. Her bottom lip quivered. She was as white as the clouds drifting past the cockpit windows, and it was breaking his heart.
“I promise,” he said, and the shudder that rolled through his body almost made him lose his tenacious grip on the wheel. “Now, Duchess, I’m gonna need both hands to put us down on the water.”
She clenched his hand and looked at him. “I don’t want to drown, Jimmy.”
“Nobody’s drowning. Aquaman, remember?”
“Promise?”
Shit, not again. But he gritted his teeth and meant every word of it this time. “I swear on my momma’s grave you won’t drown on my watch.”
She nodded and released
his hand.
“This is gonna get rough, sweetheart. When we hit the water wait until the plane comes to a stop, then get the hell out. Don’t wait for me. Just get out as fast as you can. Do you understand me?”
He waited for her nod, and then he turned his complete focus on landing the crippled aircraft.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sophie closed her eyes and started to count to ten. She only made it to four. Her eyes flew open as the plane dipped sickeningly and dove toward the water.
Jimmy’s forearm muscles strained as the wheel vibrated like a jackhammer in his grasp. He cursed viciously, pulling back on the stick with all his might. The nose of the plane rose very slowly, but it did rise enough for Jimmy to bank the aircraft to the right. The engine rumbled and the plane rattled. A warning beep wailed as a red light on the control panel began to blink.
Memories from the afternoon Sophie had almost drowned flashed through her mind. The soupy blackness. The suffocation. The sick feeling as she clawed for the surface not knowing which way was up. She was suddenly floating in unanimated suspension like she had on that day. The air turned cold, so cold, she could see her breath when she exhaled.
The jarring impact knocked her teeth together and flung her head back against the seat.
A float broke off and the tip of the right wing caught the water. For several dizzying moments, the plane twirled like an ice dancer before finally settling on the smooth surface of the ocean.
Everything went quiet. Only the sound of Sophie’s labored breathing filled the cabin. A seagull squalled in the distance. Her stomach heaved and threatened to dispel the tea and toast she’d consumed earlier in the day. She took a deep breath through her nose, attempting to ease the nausea with an influx of oxygen. Then she squeezed her eyes closed, willing the dizziness to pass.
The world was sideways. Gravity was pulling her toward the passenger side door. Her cheek was smashed against the cold glass and something hard and knobby poked her arm. She opened her eyes and forcefully pushed herself upright, bracing herself on the door. All of the lights on the control panel had gone out. Something was blocking her view. One of the wings, she realized, flung across the windshield like an arm blocking the sun.
Rum Runner Page 18
