Focus never more important, never tougher to find, Tanner glided through his smoothest takeoff to date. Fear for Kathleen offered a hefty motivator.
Fighters would probably be on their tail soon, but wouldn't shoot down the C-17 as long as he stayed well clear of the no-fly zones around major cities.
Already a new plan began to form in his mind while the plane gained altitude. If only he could get her off the aircraft. Hell, he would settle for tossing her out…
Out of the plane.
His plan solidified as Tanner leveled the cruising plane.
Quinn exhaled a laugh. "See, I told you I could handle the big guy. Now kick back, ladies and gentlemen, and enjoy your nonstop flight to Central America."
If Tanner had his way, and he damned well intended to, Kathleen would be safely on the ground long before they landed.
Chapter 17
An hour later Tanner scanned his control panel, then the inky night sky outside his windscreen. Luminescent green from the instruments lent an eerie glow. Quinn sat in the seat behind Kathleen with the gun trained unwaveringly on her head as they crossed the Mexican border.
The hour of routine had steadied the throbbing in Tanner's temple. He didn't even want to think about the bullet that had glazed him, that could have been embedded in Kathleen's soft body.
She might be subdued now, but Tanner knew that at the first hint of threat to him, she would start yanking that gun toward herself again.
A trembling started low, too much like the one that had gripped him back at the abode mission after the car explosion.
He forced his focus on flying and hammering out the specifics of his plan. Under the cover of regular flight tasks, he'd managed to flip the setting on the silent transmission of the IFF. The Identification Friend or Foe radio frequency was now indicating a hijacking situation.
So far, Quinn hadn't noticed. Air security had tightened since Quinn's active duty days, and Tanner was counting on the older aviator not knowing that air traffic controllers were undoubtedly tracking them. Likely a DEA jet had vectored in from the border, racing up as U.S. fighters peeled away. Quinn would be apprehended on the ground by federal agents.
That was where things could get tricky.
Thus the need to get Kathleen off the plane. Now. He'd failed to protect his sister years ago, but by God, he wouldn't screw up this time.
Tanner flipped the autopilot switch.
Quinn jolted in his seat. "What are you doing? Keep your hands where I can see them. Don't move."
Kathleen's brow furrowed, her eyes blazing her question across the cockpit. What the hell are you doing?
Tanner ignored her for now. She would know soon enough, and she wouldn't like it one bit.
One battle at a time.
Quinn's hands shook. "Fly the plane. Now!"
This guy was too wired. It wouldn't take much for him to lose control of that trigger finger. Tanner's temple ached with an all-too-real reminder of Quinn's unpredictability.
"Chill, Quinn." Tanner held up his hands. "I'm not going anywhere. I just want to talk for a minute."
"Why would I want to talk?"
"Because you don't want anyone to get hurt. You may be a crook, but unless I miss my guess, you're not a murderer."
"I wouldn't bet on it, big guy."
Tanner didn't figure he would, either, still he needed to keep Quinn calm.
But then maybe it would be better to just end it now. All he needed was one fast jab to Quinn's jaw and it would be over. Sure, Quinn would have time to give Tanner a sucking chest wound, but Kathleen would have the crucial second needed to take out Quinn. No doubt she could do it, too.
Except how would she land? Worse yet, if the bullet went astray and blew a hole in the plane…
In spite of all that steely will firing from her eyes across the control panel, she was far too mortal.
Control. Think. No blasting in, half-cocked.
Tanner eased back. Some of Kathleen's logic would serve him well now. "You're a smart guy, had to be to pull this off for so long. I'll bet you have a cushy retirement planned."
"I just want my money. That's all I've ever wanted. I've had enough of being an underpaid, undervalued government employee."
"You were only in it for the money. You didn't want all this grief."
Quinn kept his gun steady in one hand, his eyes glowing like a jet jock sharing war tales. "I figured the scam was minimal risk for a big payback. How could I pass up the chance when I realized Randall liked to keep loose hours? So I ran half the tests and pocketed the money for running the other half. If half the tests went well, stands to reason the other fifty parts should work, right?"
Not hardly. "Now that you have your money, you're going to want to stay alive and enjoy it." Tanner allowed every ounce of anger to seep into his words. "And I'm telling you, pal, as long as Kathleen's around, there's a damned good chance we're gonna have a shoot-out. I'm feeling edgy. Yeah, I'm trying to control it, but if it looks like you're gonna hurt her, even just a little bit, I'm gonna lose it. Then I'm gonna go after you. Sure, you might get me."
Tanner canted forward. "But I might get you first."
Quinn's gun wavered.
"Are you willing to risk it? Why not just let her go and focus all your attention on me?"
"Let her go?"
"Let me go?" Kathleen's horrified voice ripped his gaze off Quinn and onto her. "Not on your life, you big—"
"Parachute out." Tanner let his eyes linger on Kathleen for one selfish moment. Convincing her would probably be tougher than persuading Quinn. "Do it, Kathleen. Use that awesome brain of yours. I'm not leaving without you. And I stand a helluva better chance at making it out alive if you're not here distracting me. I'll throw you out the hatch if I have to." He fought dirty and fought to win. The stakes were too important. "Doc, it's time to be a team player."
"Damn you," she whispered, just a small, eloquent whisper, but one that said so much coming from his restrained warrior goddess.
He'd won. A hollow victory if Quinn didn't go along. "Well, Quinn?"
Clouds whipped past the windscreen for what seemed like miles before Quinn slid the gun from Kathleen's head. "Okay. We've made it over the border. I can afford to ditch her."
The kick of relief punched the air from Tanner's lungs.
"But…" The silver-haired aviator steadied his gun. "You're gonna follow us to the back. I don't relish the idea of you jerking the plane and knocking me out."
"Fair enough." Tanner leaned to the control panel and opened the load ramp.
The plane glided along on autopilot while they descended the stairwell into the cargo hold. Red lights filled the belly of the plane with a hellish glow. The back of the plane yawned open into the abyss of an opaque night sky broken only by a smattering of stars.
Quinn paused at the base of the stairwell, his gaze darting back and forth from Kathleen to Tanner as if reassessing the situation. Unease prickled over Tanner. Aw, hell. It couldn't go bad now. He almost had Kathleen out of the plane.
Quinn threw back his shoulders, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "You know what, Bennett? This is your lucky day. I'm letting you both go, now that we're over the border."
It sounded too damned good to be true. "Why?"
"Call it residual sentimentality from my active duty days. Or call it common sense because you're both loose cannons who are just lovesick enough to throw yourselves in front of my gun one too many times and get somebody seriously hurt. Like maybe me. Regardless, it'll make for less baggage to deal with on the ground. And I don't really need you anymore."
Quinn's eyes glowed. "I've always wanted to fly one of these beauties, anyway. Low, past radar like the old days. I'll ditch the plane where the Air Force can retrieve it later. This is your chance, big guy. Parachute up and pile out."
Tanner searched for signs that Quinn might be feeding them a line in order to catch them off guard, shoot them and dump their bodies. He found nothing but impatience in Quinn's eyes.
The guy actually planned to let them both out. Tanner sucked in air like water. Kathleen would make it.
And Quinn really thought Tanner would willingly leave his plane while the guy got away clean.
Quinn deserved to pay for putting lives in danger. Only by the grace of God and a good set of flying hands had Crusty and his crew lived.
Who was he kidding? Tanner burned, to make Quinn pay for threatening Kathleen. Forget that he intended to let her go. The bastard who'd kidnapped his sister had let her go, but she'd died, anyway.
The bullet may not have hit Kathleen, but it could have, and Tanner intended to make sure Quinn didn't get away with it.
But he wouldn't let Quinn—or Kathleen—know that until she was safely out of the plane. The automatic tracker on her parachute would bring rescuers within a few hours. With her safely out, he could deal with Quinn.
Olive-green parachutes dangled from hooks. Tanner tossed one to Kathleen before selecting another for himself while Quinn stood guard to the side with his gun.
Tanner's own chute felt heavy in his hands. The scent of military-issue equipment wafted up, the familiar mix of must and hydraulic fluid bringing an odd comfort. He strapped into his parachute, knowing full well he wouldn't use it. Going through the motions kept Kathleen moving.
Her slender arms slid through the straps while wind howled through the open back. With brisk efficiency, she hooked the D-ring over her chest, cinched it tight, then repeated the procedure with the leg straps.
Precision. One-hundred-percent-perfectionist Kathleen.
Her methodical attention to detail gave him another dose of comfort as he readied to send her out of the plane. She might be risky, but in a make-sure-her-ass-was-covered kind of way. If they both got out of this alive, he could find a lifetime of comfort in that realization.
Kathleen stopped in front of Tanner, cupping his face in her palms. The hazy glow bathed her skin in a red that was as fiery as her wind-tossed hair, as his determination.
"Hey, hotshot?" Husky and low, her voice trembled with emotion, anger and something else he didn't recognize. "You can't control everything."
He hadn't fooled her for a minute. She knew him too well.
She pressed a fierce, hard kiss to his lips, then tore herself away. In perfect form, not that he expected otherwise, she leaped from the plane.
Quinn flicked his gun to the gaping opening at the end of the load ramp. "Okay, you next."
Tanner turned to Quinn, eyed his opponent, and calculated the odds of wrestling the gun from him now that Kathleen was gone.
Then it hit him. How ironic that by the end of this mission, she had being a team player down pat. He was the one screwing up. Not Kathleen.
He'd missed the big picture. The plane was being tracked. It was almost certain Quinn wouldn't get away. What did it matter if he was taken when he landed or in the air? Or who dispensed the justice?
If anything, Tanner needed to be on the ground with Kathleen. A real team player didn't leave his wingman.
And, damn it, she was even more than that to him. Kathleen was special. He'd known it when he first saw her twelve years ago. He knew it now as well.
Being with Kathleen was like swinging from a chandelier. Unpredictable. Exciting. Hell on his heart-rate.
But he loved her and wouldn't have her any other way.
Tanner stepped away from Quinn. "Go easy on the stick. Remember this baby's a newer model. It's a fly-by-wire, not like the C-130."
Arms tucked in tight, Tanner thundered down the belly of the plane toward the open ramp. What the hell. Control had become a thing of the past around Kathleen, anyway.
He flung himself out of the plane into the blanket of stars.
Kathleen whipped her parachute free and stared up into the murky sky, not that she expected to find the big lug, anyway. Damn him. Why hadn't she made him jump first?
