Chapter 25
Fallon
This was not good. Not good at all. The Cuban country didn’t take kindly to visitors just dropping in.
Vissarian laughed. “Someone wanted us shot down.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, but this is serious.
The Cubans aren’t going to be very happy.
However, I’ve got us…” This time, I was warned we were off course.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “I stand corrected. Someone sabotaged the plane. I need to override the instrumentation to try and navigate us to Miami. Don’t worry. I’ve done it before.”
Strangely enough, I wasn’t terrified, just fucking annoyed. The act was criminal and potentially deadly. It was obvious whoever had done so hadn’t anticipated my background. Thankfully, I knew what I was doing.
“Just hold on,” I told him, able to smell the tension and anger wrapped around his seductive body. After overriding the automatic system, I was able to take full control. “We’ll be fine.” As long as we had no additional mechanical issues. “We’ll need to get this checked in Miami.”
“I’ll make a call to the men who did the work once we get closer.”
“Good. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
I should have known better than to issue the statement.
“What’s that red light, Fallon?”
The slow and steady blinking was every pilot’s worst nightmare. “We’re getting ready to lose the engine.”
“We can fly with one. Correct?” He tipped his head toward me.
“Yes, we can.”
He obviously heard the hesitation in my voice, cursing in Russian under his breath.
“You speak Russian when you’re angry or upset.”
His laugh was short lived. “A habit I learned from my father, who wasn’t terribly interested in learning English when we arrived.
It took an act of God to help him realize he really needed to learn the language.
On the flipside, he required his sons to learn Russian.
Since my brother was born in the States, he fought tooth and nail. ”
“You’ll need to teach me a few words one day.” The chatter was only to keep his eyes off the gauges. I was using all my observation skills to do so myself.
I also noticed we were dangerously close to restricted airspace, enough so I anticipated my communications system would soon be lit up with warnings.
Something else I didn’t want to tell the frustrated man hell bent on revenge.
A few minutes passed and controlling the plane was becoming more difficult, sluggish when that was the last thing I needed.
Another warning light popped on the moment my headset was jammed with warnings to leave the airspace.
“What the fuck is going on?” he gritted out.
“We’re having some issues. Let me see what I can do.” After identifying ourselves, I opted to explain the situation. “El avión está experimentando una falla en la instrumentación.”
The jet is experiencing instrumentation failure.
There was a hesitation before my plea was answered. “Diríjase inmediatamente a Miami.”
Head immediately to Miami.
“That’s what I’m trying to do, you asshole.” I’d momentarily turned off the microphone before spouting off my displeasure, but when the plane lurched forward, I realized I was going to need to get nice and cozy with the bastards. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“Secure Bella for me. Would you? And you might want to put your seatbelt on.”
“Why?” he grilled.
“Because we’re taking a detour to Cuba whether they agree or not.
” The closest airport was the Santiago de Cuba International Airport.
Landing in a hostile country wasn’t what I’d had on the day’s dance card and making it before sliding into the deep blue ocean was still a crapshoot, but there was no other choice.
“Fuck. Fuck!” Vissarian jerked up from the seat, immediately grabbing his phone.
“Mayday. Mayday. Este es el vuelo N65oG2 con una senal de socorro. Solicitamos permiso para aterrizar en el Aeropuerto Internacional de Santiago de Cuba.”
This is flight N65oG2 with a mayday. Requesting permission to land at Santiago de Cuba International Airport.
When the goddamn coms grew silent, I was more than pissed. “Do you fucking hear me?”
“Who is speaking, please?”
Finally, someone who knew English. At least he’d heard my fucking level of frustration. “This is Captain Fallon Zimmerman. We are in a crisis. I’ve lost one engine and am about ready to lose the second. This is not a watercraft. I repeat, this is not a watercraft.”
The bastards took their sweet time. I knew they required permission from their damn government, but at this rate, I could swim to shore faster. Silence wasn’t golden at this point. I continued to look at the instrumentation regarding the engine.
I was going to lose her at any minute.
“Negative. You do not have permission. Please set a course for Miami International Airport.”
The man’s voice grated the fuck out of my nerves.
“What the fuck is their problem?” Vissarian popped his head back into the cockpit. “Give me that.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. Sit your ass down. I’ll handle this. I am the pilot.” I threw him a look and I’d be damned if he didn’t do what I asked.
Or what I’d commanded.
Just like he did with me.
“Listen to me, whoever you are. I have Vissarian Dmitriyev onboard this plane. If you don’t know who he is, look him up, but you better be damn quick about it because I am flying to that goddamn airport. Shoot me down if you need to, but the blood will be on your hands.”
You bet I was pissed.
When I tossed my headset, Vissarian chuckled from beside me. “Don’t let me get on your bad side.”
“This isn’t anything to joke about.”
As if to prove we were in dire straits, the second engine went completely.
“What the fuck?” Vissarian leaned forward.
“Keep your seatbelt on and lock your tray stand in place. We’ll soon be experiencing a bumpy ride.”
“Are you fucking gliding in?”
One last look in his direction before I had to concentrate. “Yes, I am.”
“Oh, fuck me.”
I grabbed the headset, repeating the flight number and the mayday signal.
Then I threw in the last words that I’d waste time saying.
“Please provide coordinates for a landing location and have other planes diverted from our airspace. Both engines are gone. I’m currently at an altitude of fifteen thousand feet and gliding down fast. At this point, I have control of the joystick, but could lose that at any moment. We’ve been sabotaged. Please advise.”
And the waiting game continued as I paid attention to every gauge, every movement.
We broke through the clouds before the bastards got back to me.
“Flight N65oG2, please proceed to runway 51. I repeat, head to runway 51. Emergency vehicles will be standing by. Once landed, you will stay inside your plane. Is that understood?”
“Now the bastards want to give me a hard time.” I turned on the microphone as Vissarian growled beside me. “Sí, senor. Muchas gracias por su ayuda.” Said with full sarcasm.
Yes, sir. Thank you oh-so much for your assistance.
Maybe I was pushing the attitude a little bit, but we weren’t their enemy.
At least not right now. Maybe dropping Vissarian’s name had given them a reason to change their minds. Whatever the case, I didn’t have time to give a shit.
Not when we could be coming in for a crash landing.
“I need to make a phone call,” he said out of the blue when I had the airport in sight.
“Now? Are you kidding me? Calling to give your goodbyes?” You bet I was hot under the collar. Whoever had sabotaged the plane had meant for both of us to die. Hell hath no fury like a woman whose furry baby was threatened.
“Someone I trust we might need.”
“Is Bella okay?”
“She’s fine. Concentrate.”
Huffing, I took a deep breath, trying to zone out of everything that was happening except for flying the plane.
Just like the way my commander had taught me.
Something else to pray for. That the lever on the landing gear worked. If we came down on the plane’s belly, I had serious doubts we’d survive.
When I heard the appropriate sound, I let out a little cheer.
I’d been in combat. I’d caught a hailstorm of bullets during one mission and I’d had to come in for a crash landing. Everyone had survived. Only then the situation hadn’t been personal. I’d been flying and serving my country.
This was extremely personal.
And I was furious.
With the runway in sight, I held my breath. The plane was starting to rattle, the joystick becoming more difficult to maneuver.
“You can do this,” he said from beside me.
One last glance of his handsome face. “If I don’t get another chance to tell you this. I think I’m falling for you.” My admittance before possible death. Why that one?
Whether or not he heard or what I’d said was true didn’t matter.
All that did was landing safely.
I’d remember every harrowing moment as the jet dropped lower and lower.
“Hold on,” I said quietly.
Just as the wheels touched down.
With both hands on the joystick, I gritted my teeth as I pulled the brakes. “Come on, baby. Come on. Come… on.”
Slow.
Slower.
Slower still.
We were reaching the end of the fucking runway.
“Now!” I yelled as if the plane could listen.
Maybe there was such a thing as divine intervention, because when the plane rolled to a stop, I sensed I was running out of air.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God. You are amazing.” Vissarian leaned over, brushing his lips across mine.
Gasping, I checked the instruments again before shutting everything down. That’s when I noticed the number of Cuban fire trucks, some as old as my father would have been, but at least the air traffic controller had taken me seriously.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” he said as soon as I unbuckled my seatbelt.
“We were told to stay on the plane.”
He grinned as if all of this was one big joke. “Since when do I follow rules?”
“Oh, yeah. How could I forget? Let me grab Bella and a leash.” The rush of adrenaline was potent, as if I’d taken drugs. Secretly, I was both shocked and thrilled.
But mostly I was pissed.
“Come on, baby girl. I think we have a new adventure ahead of us.”
Vissarian opened the door, immediately tossing down the flexible stairs.
With Bella in my arms, I allowed him to guide us down the metal steps onto the tarmac.
And straight into a group of military men all holding weapons.
“Well, fuck,” he hissed.
“I told you so,” I said softly.
“Meaning what?”
“They think it’s a Ganja plane.”