Читать книгу Treacherous Skies - Elizabeth Goddard - Страница 13

FOUR

“I’m calling for help,” Jake said.

Connor squeezed the power lever, wishing he could take action. “Just who do you think is going to come to our rescue? And if we call for help now, they could shoot us out of the sky and be gone before anyone’s the wiser.”

“What are we going to do?” His brother ground out the words.

He didn’t blame Jake. Connor never should have dragged his brother with him into this over-the-top recovery operation. Should never have agreed to get involved with this in the first place.

“What are we going to do?” Connor repeated the question, considering his options, which weren’t many. Was he destined to go down again?

No. Thinking about his failures right now wouldn’t do any good.

He looked behind him at the dark-haired beauty—the hazardous cargo he’d found on the Learjet who might end up costing them all their lives.

“You’d better take a seat and fasten your seat belt,” he said.

“What...what are you going to do?” Maya hesitated in the doorway.

Connor cocked a brow. “You sure you want to find out the hard way?”

She disappeared into the cabin, and he gave her a few seconds before sending the jet in an arcing dive toward the earth.

“What are you trying to do, get us killed?” Jake asked. “You know we can’t engage them.”

“You just asked me if I had any tricks.” Connor’s palms slicked against the power levers, but his brother was right. Connor drew in a long breath. “Relax. I just wanted to see what the Skyhawk would do.”

Connor leveled the Learjet, flying at thirty thousand feet. The Skyhawk stayed with them. If Connor didn’t follow, would they be shot out of the sky? He wanted to outmaneuver the fighter jet, but he reined in the crazy thought. Like Jake said, that could get them all killed. He had more than himself to worry about this time.

This time.

His pulse rocketed as images bombarded him.

He was flying now, somewhere over the Mojave Desert when both engines died. The ground came at him fast, the experimental test plane dropping to the earth way too fast. There wasn’t enough time. Seconds...he had seconds left, but they weren’t enough. He ejected later than he should have, and then he slammed against the earth.

“Connor...Connor!” Jake’s voice broke through the vision from his past.

Glancing at his brother, Connor drew in a breath. He’d spent months recuperating from his injuries after the crash, destroying the experimental plane he’d flown as a test pilot—another bird like this Learjet that cost in the millions.

Destroying his career and future.

Unlike the test plane, at least Connor had survived and all his body parts were in functioning order.

That was six months ago and it wasn’t long enough to minimize his trauma. Still, it was enough to keep him from making an extreme attempt to outmaneuver the fighter pilot to his left. Regardless, he was in no position to engage in a dogfight.

“Give me a minute to think,” he said.

“I’m not sure we’ve got a minute.”

“In order to intercept us like this they had to have departed farther down our route and watched for us from anywhere in the Yucatán Peninsula, Haiti or Cuba. Then climbed to the same altitude and flown in a holding pattern, waiting for us,” Connor said. “They had to know almost instantly that we’d taken this plane, and chosen this route.”

“But we’re too far into the Caribbean now and out of radar coverage,” Jake said.

Connor glanced Jake’s way. “GPS,” he said, simultaneously with his brother.

“So they installed GPS tracking, probably because they were afraid someone was going to take their plane.” Jake glared at Connor.

“As soon as we’re out of this, find the GPS device so we can’t be followed. Maybe it’s somewhere in the cockpit and easy to dismantle.”

“Who is this person, anyway?” Jake asked.

“Someone who wants this Learjet back,” Connor said. “Thought we’d already established that.”

“Just a guess, but seems to me we’ve picked a fight with someone who is powerful and dangerous.” Jake glanced behind him, but Maya remained in the cabin. “What should we do now, turn around?”

What had Connor gotten himself, gotten them, into? This was all too much and happening way too fast. “Are you kidding me? There’s no way I plan to turn this plane around.”

“Yes, I was kidding. But then again, what choice do we have?” Jake asked.

Connor couldn’t stand the defeat he heard in his brother’s voice. Incredulity raced through his veins, and he cut Jake a glance. “Like that’s any choice? They’d kill us on the spot. They kidnapped a woman, remember?”

When Troy had hired Connor to recover this Learjet, he told Connor that a reputable businessman had fallen behind on his payments and all Connor needed to do was fly the jet back.

You might want to consider using the element of surprise...

Troy’s words seemed to echo in the cockpit now. After everything that had happened, Connor understood the warning better, and he understood something else, as well—the man who had owned this Learjet was anything but reputable. Maya’s presence just upped the stakes, but maybe they could come out of this like heroes.

The fighter jet flew closer then thrust ahead of the Lear, flying in front of them in a dangerous pattern. Connor wasn’t impressed.

“Okay. I vote we call for help.” Jake emphasized the last three words. “Someone needs to know what’s going on.”

Connor shook his head, cautioning him.

“Like I said before, you get on the radio now and they might decide to destroy all the evidence.”

“They’re not going to shoot us out of the sky,” Maya said.

The sound of her smooth voice startled Connor. He hadn’t realized Maya had left her seat and now stood behind him. She knew more than she was admitting, just as he suspected. “How can you be sure?”

“I can’t. But I think the Learjet owner wants his plane back, and he won’t get that if he shoots it out of the sky.”

She didn’t make mention that he wanted her back, as well.

“They’re not going to follow us into U.S. airspace, either,” Connor said.

“There’s no need to. He already has people inside, and they’ll be waiting for us.”

The Skyhawk backed off and disappeared, and almost in unison, Connor and Jake released a long sigh. Connor looked over his shoulder. Maya had returned to the cabin.

“We need to change our passenger manifest before we land.” Connor stood to leave the cockpit.

Jake eyed him. “You’re full of bright ideas today. Just how do we do that midflight?”

“Figure it out and look for that GPS tracking device.” He didn’t have time for any of this. “I’m going to find out what Maya knows.”

Just who exactly were they dealing with? He swiped a hand down his face as he paused before stepping into the cabin, hardly believing what had happened. How could he get answers from Maya?

Reg would know how to do it. Connor grimaced. Why did he have to think about Reg right now? His older brother’s angry face filled his mind—the good son in the family with a successful career in the FBI. Connor didn’t want to think about Reg’s reaction should he find out what Connor had dragged Jake into.

He hadn’t spoken to his brother in two years. Always the failure, never the hero—Reg’s last words to him pounded against his already aching head. It didn’t look as though Connor was anywhere close to changing that, despite his efforts today.

He shoved his failures aside. He needed to remain focused and keep a positive outlook, but this little mission wasn’t looking nearly as advantageous as it had.

* * *

Maya searched the posh lavatory.

There...

Her pulse slowed a little. The men who’d taken her last night had crammed her bag into a small storage compartment. She still grappled with the fact that Roberto Hernandez had found her after over twenty years—and kidnapped her again. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to get her and because of that, she doubted she’d escape his claws this time. That fighter jet showed her just how determined he’d become.

But why now? What had happened to reignite his interest in her? She didn’t doubt that her father had everything to do with it. She dumped the contents of her purse, which seemed considerably lighter, on the counter. Lipstick, a small brush, mirror and breath mints spilled out.

But no wallet.

Her heart skipped an awkward rhythm. That meant no cash. No credit cards. No driver’s license. She dug inside the handwoven bamboo-and-satin bag. There. She felt something... Her hopes climbed.

Maya tugged out her passport. They’d taken her money but wanted her to be able to travel without raising questions. She stumbled from the lavatory, dropped into the rear seat, set her bag on the floor at her feet and pressed her passport against her chest.

Without this, she couldn’t even make it back into the country. She drew in a few calming breaths. If she could just walk off the plane, slide through customs and evade Roberto’s men somehow, then she’d have a chance to consider her next step.

Without her passport, avoiding more trouble would be impossible.

Still, she was reduced to walking through this crisis moment by moment, one day at a time. Everything hinged on what the pilot intended to do with her. She’d been kidnapped and stowed away on his plane. Yes. But he wasn’t involved with Roberto. That much she believed. Now to convince him to let her be.

She needed to handle this in her own way. She couldn’t lose control of her life again. How could she make him understand?

Maya stared out the window at the Caribbean Sea passing beneath them. Soon it would change to the Gulf of Mexico as they traveled to Miami on what had to be a ninety-minute, maybe two-hour, flight.

She had an hour, if that, to figure things out. How much could she share with him and still hold on to what little of her life was left?

She only had herself to blame for the mess she was left with—she should never have agreed to meet her father.

One wrong decision and everything she’d worked for slipped from her grasp. How would she survive this? Even if she did survive, how would she escape and return unscathed, live the life she’d created without anyone being the wiser?

The pilot would want answers. She needed to tell him enough so he would understand how important it was to avoid contacting the authorities, and yet keep her identity and her life as secret as possible.

No one knew better than her, no one would understand that only she could solve this problem. Only she could connect with her father—for real this time—to discover why this man kidnapped her again. To discover what it would take to end this once and for all.

For twenty-plus years, she had deluded herself into believing she’d escaped Roberto for good. Roberto and her father were bitter rivals, and their feud could easily be taken right out of the headlines as they’d battled over territories for decades. He wanted to use her against her father, and the authorities would do the same if they discovered who she was. Her life would never be her own.

If the authorities knew her true identity, she’d be monitored, and then she could never safely make contact with her father again. Nor would she get the chance to say goodbye.

But Connor wouldn’t understand, nor did she blame him. Maya pressed her hands over her face and rubbed her eyes. She heard the squish of leather and knew the pilot sat across from her.

Instead of acknowledging him, she coiled inside herself, wanting to stay hidden away as long as possible.

“You need to tell me everything.” The deep timbre of his voice mingled frustration with betrayal, but she didn’t hear the fear she expected. “Right. Now.”

She dropped her hands and lifted her eyes to meet the piercing daggers in his. “Why do you look at me like that? I’m as much a victim here as you.”

Her words didn’t appear to move him with compassion. Not much, anyway. Still, she didn’t miss the fleeting crease between his brows. Using a harsh tone with her pained him. He didn’t like having to question her like this any more than she liked being interrogated. But she understood why he needed answers.

“You said, ‘he already has people inside, and they’ll be waiting for us.’ What did you mean? Who are you talking about? We don’t have time for games. Who kidnapped you?”

Why wasn’t he terrified? Didn’t he understand the danger they were in? Or was he a tough guy, a dangerous man himself, for reasons she’d yet to learn? Maybe his Eagle Scout air was simply a facade. Who was he, really?

When Maya didn’t answer, he leaned back in the seat as though he had all the time and patience in the world. Maybe he did. But he didn’t know what she knew. “You don’t have to tell me anything. You can tell the authorities when we land,” he said.

Maya’s heart jolted against her chest. He knew which buttons to push. Smart man.

“The man who kidnapped me, who owns this Learjet, is a powerful Colombian drug lord.” She’d been pulled back into the Colombian drug wars, used as a pawn and stretched between the warring factions. Between Roberto and her father, but she’d leave that information out as long as she could.

“I see.” Connor pressed his finger against his lower lip, contemplating her words. “Then why does he want you? What are you to him?”

This was the part where Maya needed to buy herself time, stall him as long as possible. Forever, if she could. And anyway she honestly didn’t understand why she’d been kidnapped this time. She could only guess. “You should be more worried about the fact that you stole his Learjet. He will be waiting for you.”

Roberto Hernandez had connections everywhere. That’s why her mother had gone to great lengths to hide her over twenty years ago. Maya would have thought he’d forgotten her with so much time gone by. Now she doubted she’d ever find solace again until the man was dead.

The pilot shook his head. “We’re landing in Miami. He can’t get us there.”

Maya prided herself on reading people and understanding their motivations. Despite her previous concern that he could be a dangerous man himself, Maya believed Connor considered himself a law-abiding citizen, and that what he’d done in taking the plane was aboveboard. He didn’t understand that “right” and “wrong” didn’t matter to Roberto. All he cared about was what he viewed as his property—and he’d go to any lengths to hold on to it...and punish those who took it.

“You don’t know who you can trust, even there. Even if you remove me from the equation, you forget that you have just stolen a plane.”

“I didn’t steal the plane. I was acting as a recovery agent, representing my friend at a leasing company that owns it. For whatever reason, the payments—which are significant, by the way—have fallen into arrears. I have all the paperwork I need to recover the plane for the rightful owner.”

“How much do you trust your friend at this company?”

The way the pilot’s lips parted slightly, Maya knew she’d hit her mark. She’d created fear and doubt. And in doing so, she realized something herself. Roberto could have had all his assets frozen—including any front companies he might own in the U.S. Or maybe his cartel had been destroyed, making him more desperate than ever. That would explain why someone had sent Connor to repossess the Learjet he used, and why Roberto had gone to such lengths to kidnap her again before it was too late. He could torture her father and ransom her for the money he needed at the same time.

“Whether or not your repossession of this Learjet is legitimate, our welcoming committee could ferry all of us back into Roberto’s hands.” The truth of her words snaked around her chest and squeezed.

Though he stared at her as if he believed she was crazy, she knew she’d planted the seed deep and that the pilot would give her words sufficient consideration. She needed him to focus on his own problems and allow her to take care of herself. That was her only hope for escape. Her only hope to return to the life she’d created—that is, once she found out how to end Roberto’s pursuit of her forever.

“What are you suggesting?” he asked, a shred of alarm finally making an appearance in his blue-eyed gaze.

Maya opened her mouth to speak—

Connor’s attention was torn from her by a muffled explosion.