Primary Valor, Jack Mars [black female authors .txt] 📗

this way. He was happiest when Darwin sent him somewhere onan errand, which happened frequently. Sometimes he went to Tegucigalpa,sometimes to Kingston, sometimes to Grand Cayman or even Miami. That was thebest part of the job—being gone from here.

Suddenly, there was shooting rightoutside the plane. Cross didn’t like shooting. He’d seen too much of it doingcorkscrew landings at Baghdad Airport during the war. He was thirty-six yearsold now, and away from that kind of action. He had hoped to stay away from itforever, but now here it was again.

He went to one of the windows. Outthere, in the dark by the gate, Honduran soldiers were firing at something thatwas coming. Something was tearing up the roadway, a car of some kind, a shadow,sparks shooting around it, headlights out. It was coming straight at the gate. Themen scattered and…

BOOM!

The car plowed right through thefencing, dragging a chunk of it into the parking lot. Cross just stared. It wasone of the black SUVs from the house.

It came crunching and limpingacross the tarmac to the plane. A man in black jumped out of it, turned, andstarted firing back at the soldiers. The angry blat of automatic fire rippedopen the night. It was close, and it was LOUD.

Now three people ran across theshort distance to the passenger door. Two of them were female. One was ElaineSayles. One was an anonymous teenage girl, of the kind Darwin King liked tocollect.

No one had given Cross any orders.He was just here in the airplane. He flew the plane. That was it. He wasinnocent of any crimes. He hadn’t done anything.

Someone started banging on thedoor. Against his better judgment, Cross opened it.

The three people came bursting in.Elaine’s face was a bloody mess. Cross didn’t mind that. He thought of Elaineas evil incarnate. If people could be evil, Elaine was one of those people. Shemight even be more evil than Darwin King. Could that be possible, that someonewas more evil than Darwin?

God! Cross should have quit thisjob a long time ago. He should have quit after the first week. But the moneywas too good. And now it was too late to quit.

The man in black pulled the doorclosed behind him. He had one machine gun in his hands, another draped acrosshis chest. His face was painted black and dark green. His left shoulder wastorn apart and bleeding, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were hard andflat. Cross had seen the eyes before in war zones.

Murderer’s eyes.

The man pointed his gun at Cross’shead.

Cross raised his hands. “It’s cool,man. I’m just the pilot. I didn’t do anything to anybody. This plane is gassedand ready. I will take you anywhere you want to go. Just don’t shoot me.”

The gunman’s demeanor didn’tchange at all. He gestured with his head. “Give your clothes to the girl. Thenlet’s get out of here.”

Cross glanced at the teenager. Shelooked about twelve. She was wearing some kind of see-through whatever. Ofcourse she was. She had no shoes on. Her eyes were wide and staring. This waswhy Cross didn’t go up to the house anymore.

Cross was about eight inchestaller than the girl, and he outweighed her by probably seventy or eighty pounds.He was wearing a blue short-sleeved shirt over a wife-beater T-shirt. He waswearing madras pants over boxer briefs.

“Man, my clothes aren’t going tofit that girl.”

The gunman shook his head. Hiseyes were wild now. “We have no time. I’m not going to argue with you. We’re onthe run, in case you haven’t noticed, and she’s not dressed for running. We’llroll up the pants, and put your belt as tight as it will go. Okay? Now do it,ten seconds or less, before I decide to fly the plane myself.”

Cross sighed, pulled his shirt off,and tossed it to the girl.

“Go!” the gunman shouted. “Let’sgo!”

* * *

The cockpit door was open duringtakeoff.

Luke hung back from the doorway,out of sight of the guns on the ground. For some reason, no one fired a shot. Luketook that as a good sign. This was Darwin King’s private airplane. He probablydidn’t want to see it get hurt.

He probably thought that once thegirl escaped and was safely in the United States, he could have his plane back.He probably could. King had always gotten away with everything before now. Whywouldn’t he get away with this?

Luke felt the rush of accelerationas the plane taxied down the runway. The nose went up, the wheels left theground, and then they were away. The pilot climbed steeply into the black sky,then banked to the left, headed north.

Luke looked at the pilot. Henearly laughed. The guy was wearing a white sleeveless T-shirt and bright redboxer briefs. That, and deck shoes with no socks.

Luke took a deep breath and slowlyexhaled. They were out.

That wasn’t so bad.

“What’s your name?” Luke said tothe pilot.

“I don’t know if I want to answerthat.”

Luke smiled. Fair enough.

“Where’d you learn to fly?”

“Eight years, United States AirForce.”

Luke nodded. “Good man.”

“Where am I flying this thing?”

Luke shook his head. He hadn’tthought that far ahead. They could rendezvous with the SRT plane in Jamaica, hesupposed. If things looked clear, maybe they could take this thing all the wayback to the States.

“I don’t know. Jamaica? How’s thatsound?”

“You mind telling me what’s goingon? It’s not every day I get hijacked.”

Luke nodded. There was no reasonto hide anything from this guy. “My name is Luke Stone. I’m an agent with theFBI Special Response Team. The girl with me was kidnapped. What you justwitnessed…”

“She was not kidnapped,” said avoice behind him. “She was there voluntarily. You’re the one doing the kidnapping.”

Luke looked back. Elaine Sayleswas in one of the leather recliner seats, arms still behind her back. Her facewas red and raw.

“You’re bleeding on the furniture,”Luke said.

The girl Charlotte smiled. She wasseated well behind and away from Elaine. She was swimming in the pilot’s shirt,but the pants looked okay, rolled way up and cinched tight around her waist. Itwas good to see her smile. Maybe she was the resilient type. She would need tobe. This was going to be a lot to process.

“FBI, huh?” Elaine