Gone Duck #5 (Romantic Suspense)
Page 5
“It won’t matter.” Ignoring the pain in her side, Macey started opening cupboards until she found what she was looking for, then she held up the blue latex glove. “The transmitters have to be small, right? We’re going to swallow them.”
Dorothy Jean gave her a disgusted look. “Oh, yeah? And just how many times will we have to swallow them until lover boy catches up to us?”
Macey grimaced, then forced a smile. “We’ll just have to take it…one day at a time, that’s all.”
Dorothy Jean nodded, her eyes bugging slightly. “That’s what I’m afraid of—re-swallowing it, one day at a time.”
* * *
Together, they went out into the main cabin and sat down like nothing was wrong. Macey stashed Dave’s gun between her seat and the wall and kept the more menacing one tucked next to her leg. Across the aisle, Dorothy Jean stashed the little black bag with the hypodermics out of sight but within reach.
Since Kofford had used a silencer, Macey hoped the pilots weren’t involved, but it wouldn’t be long before they knew for certain.
She pulled out Kofford’s phone. She’d watched him turn it on enough that she thought she could figure out his security code. The man hadn’t been very clever about it. Bottom row of three numbers. But which order?
7899.
Wrong.
7789
Wrong.
How many chances would she have before the phone would freeze?
7889.
Nope.
7898.
Ding ding ding! We have a winner!
She exhaled an excited breath and gave Dorothy Jean a thumbs up. She entered her search and after a few wild goose chases, she found just the information she needed. She set the phone aside and picked up Kofford’s weapon, complete with the menacing-looking silencer, and stood.
Dorothy Jean gave her an encouraging nod, but as planned, she remained seated and tried to remain calm, just in case. Of course, if the worst happened and the plane went down, it wasn’t going to matter much if the micro-chip went off in her head or not.
The pilot wore headphones and seemed to be concentrating on whatever he was listening to. The co-pilot glanced sideways, sensing someone was standing behind him, but not taking the time to see who it was.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
Macey smiled, but said nothing. The guy turned until he saw her. Alarmed, he slapped the pilot’s arm, then returned his hand to the controls.
“Hello, gentlemen,” she said sweetly.
The pilot whipped off the headphones and turned in his seat to face her. When he leaned forward to look behind her, she laughed.
“The men are…taking a nap.” She reached behind her and pulled the gun from her waistband. Apparently they knew she was a prisoner on the plane and shouldn’t be wandering around alone, which meant they were probably on Lacrosse’s payroll. “I was hoping we could have a polite conversation, but it looks like you’re not going to want to answer my questions.”
The co-pilot’s hand strayed, so she tapped him on the cheek with the silencer.
“You want to hand that over to me?”
Stiffly, he reached into a cubby and pulled out a gun, careful not to touch the trigger. She watched the other man while she tucked it into her waistband. That one’s hand twitched, his fingers all but pointing to his ankle.
“I’ll take yours too.” She pointed to his foot and held out her hand.
Grudgingly, he tugged up his pant leg and produced a teeny gun that fit in her pocket, though she wasn’t comfortable with it being there, even with the safety on.
“We don’t have a lot of fuel,” the pilot warned.
She leaned forward and squinted at the fuel gauge. “Ah, don’t worry. We have plenty. The question is…who is going to land this plane? One of you? Or me?”
The pilot scowled at her. “I’ll land it.”
She smirked. “We’ll see.” She turned to the co-pilot, who was starting to sweat. “Where is Lacrosse expecting us to land?”
His eyes showed an unusual amount of white. “Who?”
She shook her head, smiling. “Wrong answer.” She pressed the point of her weapon into his neck.
“Wait! What are you doing?” the pilot barked. “We’re just the pilots!”
“Wrong again.” She turned and pointed the gun at his head, and though he put his hands up, she still thought his attitude was bad. “You think I need you?” She gestured at the control panel. “Altitude indicator. Airspeed—we’re moving pretty slow, my guess is so Lacrosse can catch up. Vertical speed.” She pointed at the large handle between the seats. “Yolk. Please. I can land this in my sleep.”
The pilot smirked. “Go ahead.”
“Fine.” She pressed the point of the gun into the guy’s arm, pushing it down into the armrest…and pulled the trigger.
He screamed immediately, though he might have been just as shocked and angry as he was hurt.
“Still not liking your attitude, man.” She aimed at his crotch.
He covered his threatened parts with his now bloody, but uninjured hand. “You’re crazy!”
She narrowed her eyes at him and leaned forward. “You’re noisy.”
He shut up immediately.
She tapped the co-pilot on the shoulder. He may or may not have wet himself.
“How soon will we reach Virginia?”
He swallowed hard. “Two hours.”
She tried not to show how pleased she was for guessing their destination. “You’re sure?”
He nodded vigorously. “I’m sure. If we don’t alter our airspeed, 118 minutes.”
“Tell her nothing,” the other man grunted.
“Shut up, Peter.” The co-pilot glanced at the gun, then back at the controls. “What do you want me to do?”
She sighed silently, relieved at least one of them was going to take orders from her. There was no way she could land the plane. She’d only learned the basics of airplane control panels while doing research for a book. When she was forced to travel, she always flew coach. She’d never even been in a small plane before, let alone a cockpit, until Dave put them all on that one in Spokane.
“I want you to land at a small airfield on the coast. Do you know one? Or do I need to Google it for you?”
The man considered for a few seconds, then shrugged. “I know one, but I don’t think they’re going to let us veer from our course.” He nodded to the side.
She peered past his head and gasped at the intimidating sight of a fighter jet flying parallel to them. She looked to the left, past the pilot, and found another one an equal distance away.
“Kofford warned us you were trying to take the plane.” The pilot smirked. “We called it in.”
She resisted the urge to shoot him again because she didn’t want to tempt Karma into letting her take another bullet. Instead, she forced him to take a seat in the cabin so she could assure herself he wasn’t sabotaging anything. She let him take off his belt to stanch the bleeding in his arm, but offered him no other aid. Any softness on her part would just lead him back to his first assumption that she wouldn’t hurt him.
Dorothy Jean said there were some things in the private cabin she could use to tie him up and went to collect them.
But five minutes later, Dorothy Jean still hadn’t come back.
THE END
of
Part 5
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ALSO BY L.L. Muir
Romantic Suspense/Thriller
Gone Duck 2
Gone Duck 3
Gone Duck 4
Gone Duck 5
Gone Duck 6
Gone Duck (Compilation)
Contemporary Romance
Kiss This
*Young Adult Paranormal Thriller
Somewhere Over the Freaking Rainbow
Freaking Off the Grid
*Scottish Time Travel Romance
Going Back for Romeo
Not Without Juliet
Collecting Isobelle
What About Wickham
The Curse of Clan Ross Series
Christmas Kiss
*Scottish Historical Romance
Kilt Trip: Part 1
Kilt Trip: Part 2
Kilt Trip: Part 3
Kilt Trip: Part 4
Kilt Trip: Part 5
Kilt Trip: Part 6
Kilt Trip—The Compilation
Under the Kissing Tree
*Regency Historical Romance
Blood for Ink
Bones for Bread
Lord Fool to the Rescue
*Western Romance
Ruffles and Rawhide
*Middle Grade Children’s Books
Where to Pee on a Pirate Ship
Keefer Boone and the Gladiator Diaries
By Mortimer Coffee
TABLE OF CONTENTS
A little reminder of how the last episode ended…
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ALSO BY L.L. Muir
TABLE OF CONTENTS
About the Author
About the Author
L.L. Muir lives in the shadows of the Rocky Mountains and uses a machete to defend her writing time from the hordes of children and dogs demanding she come out of her office to play. On the inside of that office door, she uses a cattle prod to keep her characters in line while they wait for their turn at the mic.
Those characters absolutely refuse to keep their stories in one genre. Not her fault at all.
If you like her books, please leave a review. You can reach her through her website— www.llmuir.weebly.com , or on Facebook at L.L. Muir.
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