Lucky
Chapter Ten
Striker and Bethany drive up to my place. His mouth is set in a grim line, but she looks excited.
“Look.” She turns the screen to face me.
“It never left her machine. Someone reached in and took it.
It's a pull, from their end, using her login.
I knew it looked weird. Somebody at that magazine went into her drive and helped themselves.
Whoever's sitting on her editor's account has had it for days.”
I run my hand through my hair. “How can we find her?”
“That’s the other thing. I’ve finally traced her laptop. She’s out at some godforsaken truck stop where the county road meets the highway. Maybe two hours from here.” She's already reaching for her phone.
Maria calls me when I’m on my way back to the Saloon.
“You didn't hear this from me,” she says. “The Lodge jet is fueling up. Short notice, no passenger list.”
“Where's it going?”
Her voice is completely flat. “No destination logged. Lucky. They never fly that airplane back empty.”
Prez lets me talk for about a minute before he holds his hand up. I’ve scoped the area and hold up a map on my phone so he can see.
“How long by road?” Wrench, Hawk and Savage are pulling their cuts on, and Will is standing by the door with his jaw set like a man waiting to be shot.
“Hour and a half top speed on our bikes if the highway's clear. Twenty minutes in my plane.”
“You can land near it?”
“There's a straight run of dirt county road east of the diner, maybe a quarter mile. Flat and it's wide enough if the wind stays put.”
“You sure you can put a plane down on a road?”
“I've done worse.”
“Then don’t get caught.” He puts his hand flat on my chest. “You fly in and you get her out. Wrench and Savage go through the door, so Rotmere don’t see you and the plane. Hawk’s going to cause a distraction.”
“If she's in that building…”
“They’ll get her out.”
Everything in me wants to fight him on it, but I don’t.
Savage is quiet the whole way there, cracking his knuckles occasionally. He looks serene, as if he’s meditating. It’s spooky. Wrench sits up front with a headset on, asking me questions. Below us the forest rolls out toward the highway, cut through with fence lines.
Halfway there he says, “I hear she stole Savage's truck to go do this on her own.”
“She did.”
“Lila would've done the same.” He watches the ground go by. “Some women don't know how to be carried. You have to teach them.”
“That's very deep for a man with grease under his nails.”
“I'm a complicated guy.”
The county road runs east off the highway dead straight for the best part of a mile. No traffic.
Hawk’s got his backpack on. “Been a while since I did this. I hope I remember how it works.” He waggles his fingers at us, opens the top-hinged passenger door and jumps out of the plane while Savage whoops in the back.
I come around into the wind as my brother’s parachute disappears into the tall grass behind the diner. Five minutes later, we catch sight of a huge explosion outside the diner. People run out shouting.
I put the plane down on the dirt road a quarter mile away, praying that the distraction my brother’s created will stop anyone noticing. I keep her straight with my feet and get her stopped with plenty in hand, swing her around at the shoulder, and leave the engine running.
“Let’s go!” Wrench shouts, unbuckling and pulling a mask over his face.
Wrench and Savage run for the diner. The door slams and the two of them are gone up the shoulder toward the fuel island. Watching them through binoculars I track Savage, in a skull mask, moving faster than I’ve ever seen him, low to the ground like an animal.
Then there's shouting somewhere behind the diner. A gunshot.
Savage comes around the corner of the building first, Olivia limping beside him. He throws her over his shoulder once they’re clear. Wrench is behind him, carrying her laptop bag in one hand and a gun in the other.
I get the door open and reach down for her.
I have the plane off the road and climbing before Savage has the door properly shut. I hold the climb until we're up over the rim with nothing behind us but empty sky.
Then I work my jacket off one arm at a time and get it around her shoulders.
“Olivia. You're not doing that to me again.”
She makes a sound that's half a laugh and half a sob, and leans back against the seat.
Wrench, from the back, dry as a bone: “She's not plugged in, brother. We can't hear a word.”
He passes a headset forward and she puts it on with hands that aren't working right. Then her voice is in my ears, warm and close.
“Lucky, I killed the story. I went out there to tell my editor, but Rotmere got a hold of her first.”
“I know. Bethany found out earlier.”
“They've got everything.” Her breath catches. “My texts… my aunt's house. They've had my editor for days. Every message I've answered for the last week, I don't know who was writing it.”
“And your source?”
“Safe. They don't know who she is.” She wipes her face with the back of her wrist. “That's the thing. Peters thinks she's a pilot. He's got four of you on rotation and he's certain the leak is one of the four. He wanted me to tell him who it was. So I gave him the wrong name.”
The airplane flies itself for a second as I process this.
“Who'd you give him?”
“Ray Budkin.”
I have to laugh. It comes out of me wrong, sounding more like a cough.
“Budkin's been siphoning their avgas, booze and tobacco since spring. Half the field knows it.”
Her chin comes up. “I think he'll run if we let him know before they get to him. He'll disappear and they’ll think it was him.”
“Sweetheart.” I can't get the rest out for a second. “You’re the bravest, smartest woman I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Awwww.” Savage’s voice comes over the headset, sounding genuinely moved. “This is real romantic.”
“You think they’ll employ you again?”
My hands stay steady on the yoke. “Maybe. I’ll need to think of a convincing excuse why I landed on their strip. They don’t know we’re together.”
She reaches across and her hand tightens on my arm.
“Luke.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for saving me again.” She's crying properly now and not hiding it. “I should have told you I was going. I tried to write you a note, but I couldn’t.”
“I'm not letting you go. You’re mine now.”
“That's a terrible thing to say to a woman.”
“Probably.”
“Say it again.”
High Vale comes up under the wing. The sun is glinting off the metal roof of the Saloon. The lot is full of bikes and Doc is standing outside, looking up. I tip the wing as I fly past to the strip outside of town.
Savage leans forward between the seats.
“No hard feelings about my truck. Hawk said he’d be driving it back himself. I knew there was a reason he kept a spare set of my keys. Apart from me losing them all the time, of course.”
Olivia laughs. It's a little hysterical, but it’s the best sound I’ve heard all day.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Home,” I tell her.