Brain Storm, Cat Gilbert [read books for money TXT] 📗

Suddenly, my load lightened, nearly causing me to fall over. Keith was there and had taken the bulk of Connors weight off me.

“Let go. This will be easier without your help.”

He swung Connors up over his shoulder, and I followed him up the stairs and into the plane.

“You could have waited,” he said as he dumped Connors into one of the leather seats.

“No, I couldn’t. He’s in trouble. I need to get him some food.”

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked, looking down at Connors like he was some sort of pest.

I shoved past him, heading toward the front of the plane where I assumed the galley would be, only to be jerked back into Keith’s broad chest.

“I asked you a question, Taylor. I expect an answer.”

“Sugar.” I threw the word out, trying to push away from him. “His levels are crashing.”

That wasn’t the problem, but it was close enough. The symptoms looked similar, and if he didn’t get help soon, the results were going to be same. Unconsciousness, coma, and death. I tried jerking away again and this time, he let me go.

The rear seating area easily held a dozen seats, each one the equivalent of first class on a commercial airline. The forward cabin was even nicer, set up more like a living room with leather sofas and work tables. I found the galley, tucked in behind a fully stocked wet bar, and began rifling the cabinets. My frustration was growing with each drawer. I’d cleared one side of the galley, and all I’d found was a bunch of pillows and blankets along with coffee cups, silverware, and glasses. Where was the food?

The wall behind me held the coffee maker and heating ovens, along with a full-size door. I jerked it open and stepped inside, thinking it might be a pantry. It was an elevator. I leaned out and glanced around the corner. Keith was standing in the exit door of the plane, on the phone again. I ducked back inside the elevator, slammed the door and pressed the button.

I’d finally found the food. The door of the elevator opened into a room filled with glass fronted refrigerator units, a huge ice maker, and six heavily armed men, the sight of which, froze me in my tracks, my hand still on the door.

“Stand down.” The quiet order came from the back, and I waited until the barrels dropped before I stepped out into the room.

Lars pushed his way through the men, obviously the man in charge.

“Yours?” I asked, getting a nod of affirmation in response. He made a quick motion and the men silently disappeared into the bowels of the plane. With them gone, I finally had a clear look at the rest of the hold and the other person who was standing there. Relief surged through me. God love them, whoever they were. They’d brought Jenny with them.

“We don’t have much time,” Lars warned in a whisper, holding the elevator door open so it couldn’t go up. “Get what you need fast and keep it quiet.”

“Connors is dying,” I told her, praying she’d know what to do.

“I know. Give him this. It’s an injection that should bring him around. It will go through his clothes. Just jam it up tight and hit the button.”

She handed me the narrow cylinder, and I slid it into my pocket out of sight.

“Once he’s awake, get him to eat as many of these as possible.” She crammed two baskets of muffins into my hands. I recognized them as the ones from the Lodge that Connors had been munching on earlier and nodded that I understood.

“Taylor, I can give you something for the pain, but it’ll make you groggy. What you need most is rest. And stitches.”

“So I’ve heard.” The look on her face nearly made me smile as I shook my head no. I needed my wits about me. I turned back to Lars, needing to know what was going on. “Bryan?”

“He’s fine,” he snorted. “They needed to make contact and Sean figured you’d recognize Bryan and not kill him.”

“Sean?” I looked over at Jenny, who was smiling and nodding at me.

“He’s good. He’s with Candice and Bryan. He said to tell you they have your back.”

I felt my throat close up and swallowed hard against the emotion that threatened. They were safe and alive. And watching my back. I nodded at her and headed for the elevator. I had a million questions, but they could all wait until later. Right now, I knew all I needed to know.

“Lars, I’ll take these. Grab that case of water and follow me up.” I bobbed my head at the cooler, and he had the door open, pulling the water out in seconds.

“Jenny.” I stopped, not knowing what to say to her. Thanks hardly seemed adequate for what she’d done, but she understood.

“Taylor,” she quipped back at me, a ghost of a smile on her face. “We have an appointment the second this is over.”

I nodded, knowing I didn’t really have a choice and got in the elevator.

“No more blows to the head, Taylor. Understood?” I turned around to find Jenny holding the door to the elevator. Lars was standing behind her with the case of water, looking at anything but me. He’d told her what had happened. That I’d let Vivian hit me.

“Understood,” I agreed, keeping my eyes pinned on Lars.

Satisfied, Jenny stepped back and closed the door. I hit the button with my elbow and rode up to the galley.

“Where were you?” I had barely managed to get the elevator door open when Keith came storming around the corner of the galley.

“The coolers are down in the hold,” I said, kicking the door closed. “Lars is behind me, with some water. Muffin?” I held out the basket, offering him one, knowing he was too angry to take it.

“Get in your seat. We’re leaving.”

I secured the muffins in one of the galley cabinets and grabbing a blanket out of the galley, made my way to the back of the cabin. Keith was still forward, giving me time to slip Connors the shot while checking his seat belt and tucking the blanket in around him.

I was seated and buckled in, the plane already rolling out of the hangar, by the time Keith came back in. He gave me a look and sat down at the other end of the cabin, swinging his seat around to face me before buckling in, trying to intimidate me. If he thought I was going to sit there quietly and take it, he was sadly mistaken.

“Where’s Vivian, Keith? I don’t see her.”

“Not your concern.”

“Okay,” I paused, looking out the window at the line of planes waiting for clearance to take-off, “so where are we going?”

Keith ignored the question, opting to stare out the window instead. Lars came in from up front and took a seat opposite Keith, facing forward.

“Well, if you’re not going to tell me where we’re going, at least tell me how long the flight will be.”

“That’s enough, Taylor.” He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. I looked back out the window as we rumbled along, passing the long line-up of planes.

“You don’t really expect to get away with this, do you, Keith?” I asked softly. “You’re guilty of what? Kidnapping? Murder? I don’t know. The Agency is a government facility, after all. I’m sure treason fits in there somewhere.” His eyes narrowed in anger as the word ‘treason’ left my lips. If looks could kill, I’d have been reduced to a smoldering pile of ashes. I’d hit a nerve and decided to grind my heel on it. “What do they do to traitors these days, Keith?”

“Shut up. Taylor. I won’t tell you again.”

“Why? What are you going to do to me if I don’t? Hit me? I don’t think your boss would like that very much, do you?” I taunted, reminding him of the trouble Vivian was in if she was even still around.

I watched his hand roll up into a fist, saw the rage in his eyes, as he struggled for control and thought for an instant, that I’d pushed him too far.

“You ought to thank your lucky stars for that Taylor. It’s the only reason you’re still alive.” He looked me in the eyes as he said it and I knew it was the truth. He’d kill me without a second thought if he could. Whoever he worked for, owned him, body and soul. I knew in that second he was lost. There was no saving him because there was nothing left to save.

“It’s not going to work, Keith,” I told him, my voice ringing with conviction. “You’re going to spend the rest of your life in prison.”

“I’m not going to prison, Taylor,” He said, a smug smile on his lips, hatred in his eyes. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. ”

He reached down and released his seat, swinging it around to face the front of the plane, effectively cutting me off. He was confident he was safe. That whoever he was working for had the power to protect him. I could only hope he was wrong.

The plane took a sharp left and paused, the engines powering up for take-off, leaving the line-up of corporate jets and rich globe trotters cooling their heels behind us. I could imagine their frustration, sitting there in line, as we passed them by. As we took off and settled into our flight path, the sun broke on the horizon, confirming my suspicions. I breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing my own frustration was nearing an end, the wait nearly over. We were heading east. Now it was just a matter of time.