Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Chelsea
I held on to Dallas' arm, my gaze out the window at the approaching vehicles. Five of them, all dark. Three sedans and two SUVs. If I didn't know better, I'd think one of those SUVs was…
I couldn't let myself think it. If I did, I'd get my hopes up. I couldn't let that happen, in case they were dashed again. I couldn't, yet…
The vehicles were moving fast, headed directly towards us. There was no doubt in my mind they were here for us.
No doubt in anyone else's either, by the way Jones shouted.
"Get this bird off the ground!" He glared at the flight crew, who didn't jump fast enough to do as he said. He pulled a gun from his hip and aimed it at the closest of them. "Now."
"Yes, sir," the man squeaked, and hurried toward the door.
In the corner of my eye, I saw Nyla, her lips moving as she counted down slowly. When she reached three, she looked at me and nodded.
"Two. One."
The car skidded to a halt beside the plane, kicking up another storm of dust before they reached the tarmac.
I squeezed Dallas' hand and threw off my seatbelt; he did the same.
I was vaguely aware of Nyla rising and sprinting to the front of the aircraft, slipping between the curtain that separated the front from the back.
Together, Dallas and I charged the closest minion, grabbing him, one on either side. Hands on his shoulders, we slammed his head into the window behind him.
He let out a cry of pain and blinked, dazed from the blow. That was enough for us to grab his gun, which I took from Dallas' hesitant fingers.
Without thinking, I pressed the barrel of the gun against the man's forehead and pulled the trigger.
Time stopped.
They say you never forget your first kill. As long as I lived, I'd never forget the bang of the gun. The way it recoiled in my hand. I swear I felt the bullet leave the barrel and slam into bone and brain.
I saw the exact moment of impact. The exact moment he died. His eyes wide, he slumped down to the floor of the aircraft.
Time resumed.
Atlas punched another minion in the face before grabbing his weapon and shooting him in the heart.
Jay was wrestling with a third, the gun between them. Their hands swung wildly from one direction to the other, at times pointing at us, and others pointing away.
In the middle of this, Dallas ducked under their arms and threw himself, tackling the minion to the floor. They both landed with a grunt and Jay was forced to let go of the gun.
The minion pointed the weapon at Dallas' face and ground out, "Get the fuck off me."
Hands raised to either side, Dallas rolled and climbed to his feet. He stepped back while the henchmen rose.
"Put down your weapons," he minion ordered. He aimed the gun at me.
I quickly weighed up my options and knew Atlas was doing the same. Could we shoot him before he shot one of us?
"I said, put down your weapons," the henchmen growled.
"Jones won't be happy if you shoot his trophy," Atlas pointed out.
"I'll shoot you then." The henchmen turned his gun toward Atlas. "Put your weapons down."
Past him, I saw people climbing out of the cars. I immediately recognised my brother and the Brantley twins. How the hell did they know we were here? And Daisy LaSalle. Mina DiMarco and Gianni as well.
And…
I turned my head and stared. I must be dead, because I was seeing something impossible.
Storm, Frost and Ramsey were all headed to the side of the plane, guns in hand.
Alive.
I'd never seen anything more beautiful, or hotter, in my life.
"Looks like you didn't blow them up after all," Atlas said, nodding towards the window.
The tiny moment of distraction when the minion also turned to look was all I needed.
In a snap, I had the gun raised, aimed and fired. The bullet hit him square in the chest, throwing him back against the seat beside him.
We all ducked down between the seats, in legroom that would have been incredible on a commercial flight.
"Nyla?" I called out. For a relatively small aircraft, I wasn't sure what was happening in the front of it.
"Little help here. If you're not busy," she called back.
"Fucking bitch," Jones snarled. That was followed by a gunshot that made me wince. Did that come from her, or was it aimed at her?
"Stay here," Atlas told us.
"Not a chance," I replied. "I'm going with you." I wasn't going to stay here in the back and wait for them to come to us.
He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, but eventually sighed out his nose and stood. "Fine, stay behind me."
I didn't want to do that either, but he was big enough to take up most of the aisle, unless I tried to elbow him aside. Which would do nothing but waste time.
Gun held firmly in my hand, I followed him toward the front of the plane.
Atlas pulled aside the curtain with the tip of his finger, peering through the gap he made. After a moment, he shoved it aside, out of the way.
Nyla and Carlos Jones stood behind seats on either side of the aisle. Each had a gun in their hand, both aimed at each other.
Beyond them, several men did the same, clearly having taken one side or the other.
"You're not getting out of here alive," Jones said. Without taking his eyes off her, he ordered, "Get this aircraft in the air."
"You're outnumbered," I pointed out. "Give me one good reason why we shouldn't kill you."
"I'll kill her first," he said.
"Why should I care?" I asked. "I want to get off this plane, and I want you dead. What difference does it make to me if she lives or dies?"
"Because you're a doctor," he said. "Are you going to let a woman die so you can go free?"
I hated to admit it, he had a point. I didn't want Nyla to die.
She told me she had something up her sleeve and to trust her.
I knew without doubt she was the one who told my brother where to find us.
I didn't know how, but she had. She waited until they arrived and used that as a distraction to fight back.
She told me to wait for her signal and I had.
The only thing that hadn't gone the way she planned was that Jones was still alive.
In everything else, she was the puppet master again. This time, I didn't mind.
"I can tell by your silence that I'm right," he boasted. "Put down your weapons and back away. No one else needs to die today."
The plane's engine started to hum.
Jones smiled. "It seems like we're leaving after all. How nice of the Brantley family to send people to wave us goodbye."
"It's really nice of them to send Storm, Frost and Ramsey," I said. "Especially when you said you killed them."
A flash of surprise crossed his face, but he didn't waver. "I'll do better next time."
The aircraft started to roll across the tarmac.
"There won't be a next time," I said.
"If you so much as aim a gun at me, I'll kill her," Jones warned.
"I forgive you if you have to," Nyla said. "Don't let him take you."
I glanced at Atlas, giving him a silent message to be ready. He’d have to be quick if we were going to pull this off. If he wasn't, Nyla would be dead.
"I guess I'll do this then." I pointed the gun straight up and squeezed the trigger.