24. Mya
24
“He’s coming. Don’t worry,” Sam promised as I remained glued to the door inside the small white-and-blue Cessna.
Oliver, Teddy, and Easton were crouched behind some type of concrete barrier, using it for cover as they engaged in a firefight with six men. Well, down to five after a headshot took out one of the guys.
They were all that stood in the way of those assholes getting to the plane. A plane with only four seats. And while there were five of us, I’d sit on someone’s lap if it meant we all got out of there alive.
Sam, as well as our backup, had beaten us to the small runway hidden in the middle of nowhere, but Oliver only had enough time to get me over to his dad and on the plane before the two SUVs following us had arrived.
His dad tossed him an M4 rifle, and instead of joining me on the plane, Oliver went to work with Teddy and Easton to try and take out the bastards.
“That’s my boy.” Sam smacked the wall when another jerk went down.
“How do you know Oliver made that shot?” We couldn’t see who was who behind the concrete. And that was a good thing—it meant the enemies wouldn’t be able to, either.
“I just know, trust me.” His dad gestured toward the cockpit. “I need to get up there and prepare for takeoff.”
“Not without Oliver, right?” Please tell me Oliver didn’t plan to stay behind to hold these guys off only so I could escape. We were not doing that again. No more sacrificing himself for me. Hell no.
“Once they’re down to two tangos and it’s a fair matchup, I’m sure those guys will give him cover so he can make a run for it to us.” Sam was far too casual, and it made my head hurt to process how he could be that way.
Do you want him to be a hot mess and panicking? My thoughts could piss me off sometimes, but this time . . . that voice in my head was right.
“And now they’re down to three. One more, and Oliver will come.” Sam’s eyes were lit up like a kid watching his favorite action flick. Maybe he missed the thrill of combat, hell if I knew. But he didn’t seem worried at all that anything would happen to Oliver, so I was going to try and force myself to feel the same.
Unbothered? Not possible. But not panicking? Maybe I could do that.
Sam kept his head low as he shifted around to the front of the plane and strapped in. He began flipping switches and checking gauges, doing whatever it was that pilots did to fly. In all the planes I’d been in, even the private ones, I’d never been one to pay attention to everything that happened up front. And after seeing all the levers, buttons, and displays, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Sam definitely had his hands full.
I shifted gears, eyes back out the door and onto the three men hiding behind their SUVs a hundred or so feet away, still facing off with Oliver and the others. They’d yet to shoot at the plane, and I assumed that was thanks to Oliver, Teddy, and Easton keeping them otherwise occupied. The bad guys didn’t want to become the next red blood stain on the runway, but too bad for them we had superior sniper skills on our side. Thank God.
Just as Sam called it, when there were only two assholes left standing, Oliver shifted around the concrete block and Teddy and Easton covered him. He walked backward, continuing to shoot toward the SUVs, moving in a way I’d seen him do so many times on past operations.
When he gained ground, he turned and began sprinting for me. I jolted in shock and fear as a few shots pinged off the plane, but at least they didn’t connect with Oliver.
“You okay?” Oliver jumped inside the plane and closed the door behind him.
“I’m fine. Are they not coming?” I was the one panting, despite the fact it’d been Oliver running while dodging bullets, not me.
“No, they’re going to cover us so we can take off. They have orders from Carter to keep one alive for questioning. I don’t want to risk keeping you here any longer. They’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He directed me to sit and buckle up.
This was one time I didn’t argue and did as he instructed. As I got settled into one of the rear seats, he climbed around me into the front.
Somehow, we managed a smooth takeoff, even with gunshots continuing in the background. I still clutched the chair arms as if my life depended on it, distracting myself by paying careful attention to everything Sam did from the pilot’s seat, reminding myself he’d been in the Air Force, so we were in good hands.
“You see that?” Sam pointed to a screen. “We’re going to fly right into that.”
“Another storm?” I leaned forward, bracing the back of Oliver’s seat for support since we were still ascending.
“Yeah, they come and go like this in the summer,” Sam said, still remaining cool and collected, “and this one looks like a real beast. Small but nasty.”
Oliver’s pissed-off expression directed at his father didn’t go over my head. He wasn’t a fan of his father being so candid with a nervous backseat flier.
Sam twisted around and faced me, a steady and confident look in his eyes, as if Oliver had sent him some telepathic message to reassure me. “Don’t worry. We’re good. I’ve flown in much worse.”
“But those were multimillion dollar jets meant for war, not a fun-sized prop plane like this, right?” When he didn’t answer, because like father like son, I sat back in the seat as my ears started to close up a bit. “What’s the plan?”
“We get to the LZ at Dad’s friend’s place,” Oliver began, “and then we hang tight until we talk to Carter and the others about how to get you out of here safely. We don’t know if another team is going to be dispatched since this one failed.”
Right. Of course the powers that be within The Collective would have a contingency plan. At some point, they would also likely realize they had a traitor on the inside leaking information to help us escape their attacks.
“I sent Cindy and my dog into town to the sheriff’s station, so I need to pick them up. I’ll make sure we’re not followed before we meet you at Malcolm and Vanessa’s place,” Sam said as we flew right into the dark clouds, the sky choosing that exact moment to unleash hell on us.
Turbulence in the mini plane compared to a commercial airliner made me feel like we were on one of those old wooden roller coasters, the kind that gave a severe case of whiplash. When beeps and warnings from the control panel started echoing through the plane, followed by a sputtering sound from what I was scared was one of the engines—and hopefully there were at least two despite the size of this thing—I lost any last shred of calm I’d been hanging on to.
“Ah, shit,” Sam cursed as the plane veered sharply to the left, but he quickly course-corrected.
“What’s happening?” I held on to Oliver’s seat as we took a quick dive. “Pretty sure that’s the wrong direction.” Me and the whole stating-the-obvious thing needed to stop being such good friends. It also wasn’t the time for self-talk, not unless it was to remember the woman I was before Thailand. The girl who believed in manifesting and the power of positive thinking and didn’t have meltdowns because someone tried to touch me. I couldn’t power-of-positive-think our way out of a potential plane crash, though.
A few seconds later, Sam had us ascending again, but the screeching bells and whistles from up front had yet to stop.
Oliver unbuckled his seat belt and kept his head bent and body hunched while going to the back of the plane.
“Bad idea. Sit down,” I ordered, whacking his arm as he passed me.
He paused and shot me what I’d swear was almost an amused expression, but given what was at stake, I was probably hallucinating it.
“We can land, right? The engine seems to still be working.” But then why was Oliver strapping on what looked like a parachute rig? “Oh no. No, no, no.” Remaining in my seat, I twisted around, flailing my arms, knocking into him again.
“Just in case, you two will jump once I reach ten thousand feet.”
Oliver’s hands went still on one of the straps he’d been in the middle of drawing tight across his bad shoulder.
When was that decision made? I didn’t hear that conversation happen.
“So, there’s a chance you can crash and . . .” Die. I couldn’t finish that thought out loud. Nope, I rejected that possibility. I didn’t know the man, but I didn’t want anyone dying because of me, and certainly not Oliver’s father. Oliver had dealt with far too much, no more adding to his plate. “You’re coming with us.”
“Only one parachute,” Sam said, nonchalantly. “And I can’t just let this plane crash into the woods and start a forest fire. I have to at least get it over water if it’s going down.”
My eyes widened. “One chute?”
“We’re doing a tandem jump, don’t worry,” Oliver remarked, then sidestepped my seat to unbuckle me.
Was he worried I wouldn’t do it myself? Afraid I’d tie myself to the chair? Well, knowing me, yes, he probably was.
“Allll the worrying,” I said, staring up at him, my body taut, muscles locking up like my limbs were stuck in gridlock traffic. “What if we get struck by lightning? Or we land on a tree and get strung up?” About five hundred other possibilities whipped through my head, and they all ended poorly. Like in death. Or eaten by a bear. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to skydive in the rain, let alone a storm.”
“Look at me.” When turbulence nearly knocked his face into mine, Oliver clutched the top of the seat to prevent a painful headbutt. “We’re going to be okay. This is what I did for a living. I jumped from planes.” He tipped his head toward his father, ignoring the alarms and wild weather and added, “Same for him. He’s basically Top Gun.”
“Maverick was Navy,” his father grunted, and I just couldn’t deal with the two of them. Then again, if they started panicking, too, there was a 100% chance we were doomed.
Oliver ignored his father, and with his free hand, offered me help to stand. “We’ve run through this scenario before. We’ve practiced this situation.”
“With the storm?” I asked, and he closed one eye for a moment. “I feel like the FAA would say skydiving in this weather is a no-go. The rain at such a fast speed will hurt, and the visibility will be shit.”
He wasn’t a liar, but he was a master of the “art of the dodge” and went with a quick, “You have to trust me.”
“I do trust you, but not this weather. And I don’t want your dad trying to land a broken plane,” I shot out, surprised my tone had become a bit steadier. Somehow, with Oliver’s intense expression fixed on me, with zero worry crossing his face, I was managing to calm down from a ten to an eight.
“The skies are a bit clearer up ahead,” Sam said. “You’ll be jumping from there.”
I finally accepted Oliver’s offer to stand, but another bump sent my ass back to the seat. “What happens after we land? What if it’s in the woods or on a road? In a lake?”
“I’ll steer us the right way, I promise.” Oliver’s brows pinched as he asked, “Can I help you up?”
Aka, touch me. Asking permission, even now. Willing to move mountains if necessary to help me, absolutely zero ulterior motive.
“Yes,” I said with a nod, and he secured a strong hold of my forearm and hauled me upright to my feet. In that position, just like him, I had to remain semi-crouched so I didn’t smack my head on the ceiling.
Without letting go of me, he reached around the seat into a bag. “Here, put these goggles on. I don’t have helmets.”
“We’re at the right altitude now for the jump, and the rain is letting up,” his dad announced. “You better go. I’m going to radio down to Malcolm and have him follow the tracker in your chute so he can find you.”
“Malcolm’s the friend you trust?” That was the name they’d said before shit hit the fan with the storm, right?
“He’s an AF buddy of mine. We served together in the Gulf War,” Sam confirmed. “He’s the reason I moved up here. A paranoid fuck like myself. I promise, you’ll be in good hands with him.”
“Oh-okay.” I swallowed, doing my best to calm the hell down.
Oliver let go of me so I could put on the goggles, then he helped me step into a harness.
Jumping from a plane. Holy shit. This can’t be happening. Annnnd just like that, I shot back to a ten on the panic scale. “Are you sure about this? What if we take our chances and stay with your dad?”
“I’m sure.”
By the door now, Oliver gave me a firm nod and finished strapping me to his body in preparation for the tandem jump. I was now attached to him at four points with nowhere to go but down.
“You’ll be lying on the air, and I’ll be on top of you. When we go to land, the parachute will glide us forward, and I’m going to slide us gently in on our asses, okay?”
“Ten thousand feet down and sit on my ass. Yeah, okay.” In a bit of a daze, I repeated my version of what he’d said back to him, unsure if he heard me over the hum of the engine and the control-panel-beeps. Needing to make eye contact to channel his confidence in hopes it’d help mine, I looked up over my shoulder at him.
“Once I open the door, I’m going to lean forward, and I need you to lift your head toward your right shoulder to prepare yourself for the fall.” The man was so patient with me, despite the need to hurry. “You’re brave. Strong. Amazing. Don’t forget that.” He reached around my body and gently cupped my chin, brushing his thumb along my jawline in soothing motions.
Sam placed the plane on autopilot so he could shut the door behind us, which meant we had to hurry.
“Brave. Strong. Amazing,” I whispered, feeling safe against him, with his hands on me, despite what we were about to do.
I closed my eyes and followed Oliver’s orders, placing my faith in him, then did something I’d never planned to do in my life.
Jumped from a freaking plane.