Chapter Thirty-six – The Archer
Chapter Thirty-six
Fallon
THE ARCHER
Performed by Taylor Swift
TEN YEARS AGO
HIM: Please tell me Dad heard wrong. Tell me you did not fly a fucking plane by yourself.
HER: Everyone is freaking out over nothing. It was harder to figure out how to get to and from the airports than it was for me to fly the Cessna. It practically flies itself.
HIM: Ducky…that was fucking reckless. What the hell am I going to do with you?
HER: Go ahead, scold me like my parents. Be as hypocritical as them. Everyone expects me to be a goddamn adult when they need another pair of hands but calls me a reckless and impulsive kid when I actually make the tough calls and do what has to be done.
Minutes passed.
HER: Sorry. I’m angry. And upset. Ignore me.
Another few minutes went by.
HER: Taylor’s right… ‘who could leave me, but who could stay.’ I make it unbearable.
HIM: Don’t do that. Do NOT belittle yourself. You’re just like her—your idol. You’re ready for combat and showing everyone around you exactly what a hero should look like .
PRESENT DAY
The teary-eyed goodbye with Theo added another layer of somberness to the mood that had settled over Parker and me. The little boy retreated into himself, hugging Dog and nodding as if he already knew we weren’t coming back, as if we’d already broken our promise. It was heartbreakingly sad.
The sorrow and fear all but swallowed me and made it almost impossible to focus on what I needed to do—fly home, question Teddy, and find Ike. I ended up having to review some of the items on my preflight checklist multiple times while the SEAL I’d married had already zeroed in on his next task.
While I talked with the tower, Parker downloaded everything he could find on Ike, his half of the Puzo family, Ace, and Lopez Construction. After we were in the air, he spent the entire flight digging through the research while I spent it anxiously coming up with a plan for my talk with Teddy.
It was dangerous to fly so distracted. Dangerous to be going home at all.
But I had to hold out hope that we’d be able to end this once and for all, now that we knew we were looking for Ike.
As we passed over the Sierras, I spoke with the tower and received the go-ahead to land.
Much of what a pilot did was automated these days in the newer planes, more like watching a video game run versus actually flying.
But the takeoffs and landings still required a steady hand and clear mind, especially as the airport in Rivers wasn’t equipped for auto-landing.
Those few moments were some of my favorite parts of being a pilot—the moment when I had complete control.
I started our descent, watching the horizon on our approach.
At about a thousand feet, two blasts rocked the plane in quick succession. The cockpit shook, metal screeched on metal, and the wings dipped sideways.
A startled, frightened yelp escaped me.
The instrument panel lit up, alarms screamed, and my heart slammed against my rib cage .
Parker shouted, “What the fuck?”
I gripped the yoke, trying to steady it, as sweat instantly beaded along my forehead and dripped down my back. My gaze darted from one gauge to the next until it settled with dread on the landing gear warnings.
Panic surged, clutching at my lungs.
The landing gear. Something had happened to the landing gear.
A whisper of air coasted near my ear, and I swore I heard Spencer’s soothing voice right next to me, swore I felt his hand on mine, guiding me through the counter roll to balance the wings.
I focused on the horizon again, ignoring the smoke billowing outside the window and the dozens of ear-piercing alarms.
As I leveled us out, the runway approached chillingly fast. I had mere seconds to make a choice—land or take us back up?
Something was wrong with the wheels. If that were true, we’d crash no matter when we landed. And who knew what else had been damaged on the plane. Would we even make it into the air again if I pulled us up?
We were going to crash.
Goosebumps traveled over my skin.
“Get into the crash position,” I said and was surprised my voice didn’t shake.
Parker ignored me, demanding, “What can I do?”
Tears threatened as I remembered the sweet promise he’d made to Theo. I swear, nothing on this earth will prevent me from coming back to get you, bud.
And now, it would be my fault he broke it.
We were going to die.
My baby would die before she’d even had a chance to live.
Fear and despair tried to take hold.
Then determination kicked in. Pure obstinance.
No.
I could do this. I could fucking do this.
I could land without a wheel or two. It wouldn’t be pretty. But I could do it .
I opened the channel to the tower. “Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. Rivers Tower, this is Cessna N18255. We’ve had an explosion on board. Landing gear damaged. We’re at 909 feet and coming in on runway two. No time to dump the fuel. Emergency services required. Two adults on board.”
Another set of chills wound up my sweaty spine. My hands shook, and I had to remind myself to breathe.
I’d barely stabilized the plane before the runway was there, the ground rushing up.
I did what I’d always done, touching what should have been the first wheel to the tarmac.
The moment we hit, the plane tilted. No second wheel caught, and we teetered like a chair with a broken leg.
I struggled against the natural reaction to yank the yoke in the opposite direction.
Instead, I countered it gently, but it was already too late. The imbalance was too much.
The plane landed on its right wing with another horrible screech of metal. My body went with it, my harness yanking me back and holding me in place so I didn’t fall into Parker. His head slammed into the side window.
We careened down the runway on the plane’s passenger side until we hit the edge of the tarmac and toppled off into the grass and dirt on the other side.
The coarse terrain slowed us down enough that when we slammed into the concrete divider between the airport and the forest, it wasn’t at full speed.
Stunned, I sat there for too long.
We were down. We were whole.
The airfield was too small for a full-time emergency crew. It would take them at least fifteen minutes to respond.
We had to get out of the plane, away from the fuel and the smoke.
“Parker!” I shook his shoulder. Blood dripped down from a gash on his forehead, and panic bloomed inside me again. “Parker!”
I saw the rise and fall of his chest as my fingers landed on the pulse at his neck.
He was alive. God… Those damn tears flooded my eyes once more.
I had to get us out of here.
I braced my legs as I unlocked my harness so I wouldn’t fall onto him.
The plane rocked as I dropped so I was straddling him.
When I bent to unlatch his belt, my brain objected.
Already battered and smashed from the horse’s hoof, it screamed at me for bouncing it around even more.
With unsteady hands, I undid his seat belt and then straightened, reaching for the pilot’s door that was now over my head.
The latch opened easily, but it took all my strength to counter gravity and fling it wide. The motion sent the plane into another dizzying sway that had me slamming into the instrument panel. I shoved myself away from it and turned back to Parker.
I pushed my shoulders under his armpit, using my legs to lift his dead weight. I’d tossed hay bales my whole life. I’d shoveled and dug and scraped my way through chores on the ranch. I had muscles, but they were out of shape from years in San Diego, and they groaned at trying to lift him.
“Parker, wake up,” I hissed as his head rolled into me.
Somehow, I got him up out of the seat, but our weight sent the plane pitching again, and I almost dropped him into the back.
I finally got him propped up against the pilot’s seat while I eyed the door, trying to figure out a way to get him out first. Smoke and the scent of avgas drifted through the opening, burning my nose and making my eyes water more.
“Give me your hand,” a deep voice said at the door. Relief filled me. Help had arrived. A mechanic or someone from the tower. The emergency crew couldn’t possibly be here yet.
“Help me get him out first,” I said, pushing Parker within reach of the man’s hands.
“I’ll come back for him. You first,” he demanded. His face was shadowed, the sun glaring behind him. I had a sense of dark hair and beard and nothing else.
“No. He’s unconscious,” I told him. “We get him out first.”
The man swore, but he reached in farther and grabbed Parker’s shoulders.
I wrapped my arms around Parker’s thighs and lifted.
Between the two of us, we got him out the door.
As he hauled Parker over the edge, I started to climb out and watched in alarm as the man carelessly dumped Parker on the tarmac near the back of the plane before turning to jog back to me.
He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap.
He wasn’t anyone I’d seen at the airport, but then again, I hadn’t been here often in the last few years.
He reached out a hand to help me as I jumped out. My feet had barely landed when the smoke and smell made me gag.
“We have to get away from the plane!”
I’d just pushed away from him, stepping toward Parker, when I heard the slide and release of a gun. The tip of a barrel landed on my temple, and I froze.
“We’ll just leave him there.” The voice was steady and dark. “If he dies, it’s his fault for sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
My heart hammered against my rib cage. The adrenaline rush that had kicked in during the crash spun out of control, nearly taking my breath away.
I turned slightly, trying to get a better look at the man I’d thought was our rescuer.
He was exactly as Chuck had described him—a man hiding his features.
But I knew who he was now. Knew what he wanted. Dad. Me. All of us dead.