Jake glanced over his shoulder at Maya. “Nice to meet you.”
His eyes weren’t convincing. “And you,” Maya said.
“What do you make of it, then?” Jake asked, quickly turning his attention back to their dilemma.
“I think someone is either upset that we’ve taken their Learjet, or they’re upset that we’ve taken their hostage, or both, and they’re letting us know.”
“And we’re not going to follow them, right?” His brother’s question begged for confirmation.
“Definitely not.”
“Who is ‘they,’ anyway?” Jake cut a questioning glance to Maya, his eyes a similar blue to Connor’s. “And how do we defend ourselves without weapons?”
When Connor didn’t respond, his brother continued. “Come on, Connor. You’re the fighter pilot slash test pilot. Got any tricks up your sleeve?”
Connor shook his head, his voice grave. “You know this plane isn’t rated to make extreme maneuvers.”
Maya felt an invisible hand squeeze her throat as if she could never escape Roberto, even thousands of feet in the air.
FOUR
“I’m calling for help,” Jake said.
Connor squeezed the power lever, wishing he could take action. “Just who do you think is going to come to our rescue? And if we call for help now, they could shoot us out of the sky and be gone before anyone’s the wiser.”
“What are we going to do?” His brother ground out the words.
He didn’t blame Jake. Connor never should have dragged his brother with him into this over-the-top recovery operation. Should never have agreed to get involved with this in the first place.
“What are we going to do?” Connor repeated the question, considering his options, which weren’t many. Was he destined to go down again?
No. Thinking about his failures right now wouldn’t do any good.
He looked behind him at the dark-haired beauty—the hazardous cargo he’d found on the Learjet who might end up costing them all their lives.
“You’d better take a seat and fasten your seat belt,” he said.
“What...what are you going to do?” Maya hesitated in the doorway.
Connor cocked a brow. “You sure you want to find out the hard way?”
She disappeared into the cabin, and he gave her a few seconds before sending the jet in an arcing dive toward the earth.
“What are you trying to do, get us killed?” Jake asked. “You know we can’t engage them.”
“You just asked me if I had any tricks.” Connor’s palms slicked against the power levers, but his brother was right. Connor drew in a long breath. “Relax. I just wanted to see what the Skyhawk would do.”
Connor leveled the Learjet, flying at thirty thousand feet. The Skyhawk stayed with them. If Connor didn’t follow, would they be shot out of the sky? He wanted to outmaneuver the fighter jet, but he reined in the crazy thought. Like Jake said, that could get them all killed. He had more than himself to worry about this time.
This time.
His pulse rocketed as images bombarded him.
He was flying now, somewhere over the Mojave Desert when both engines died. The ground came at him fast, the experimental test plane dropping to the earth way too fast. There wasn’t enough time. Seconds...he had seconds left, but they weren’t enough. He ejected later than he should have, and then he slammed against the earth.
“Connor...Connor!” Jake’s voice broke through the vision from his past.
Glancing at his brother, Connor drew in a breath. He’d spent months recuperating from his injuries after the crash, destroying the experimental plane he’d flown as a test pilot—another bird like this Learjet that cost in the millions.
Destroying his career and future.
Unlike the test plane, at least Connor had survived and all his body parts were in functioning order.
That was six months ago and it wasn’t long enough to minimize his trauma. Still, it was enough to keep him from making an extreme attempt to outmaneuver the fighter pilot to his left. Regardless, he was in no position to engage in a dogfight.
“Give me a minute to think,” he said.
“I’m not sure we’ve got a minute.”
“In order to intercept us like this they had to have departed farther down our route and watched for us from anywhere in the Yucatán Peninsula, Haiti or Cuba. Then climbed to the same altitude and flown in a holding pattern, waiting for us,” Connor said. “They had to know almost instantly that we’d taken this plane, and chosen this route.”
“But we’re too far into the Caribbean now and out of radar coverage,” Jake said.
Connor glanced Jake’s way. “GPS,” he said, simultaneously with his brother.
“So they installed GPS tracking, probably because they were afraid someone was going to take their plane.” Jake glared at Connor.
“As soon as we’re out of this, find the GPS device so we can’t be followed. Maybe it’s somewhere in the cockpit and easy to dismantle.”
“Who is this person, anyway?” Jake asked.
“Someone who wants this Learjet back,” Connor said. “Thought we’d already established that.”
“Just a guess, but seems to me we’ve picked a fight with someone who is powerful and dangerous.” Jake glanced behind him, but Maya remained in the cabin. “What should we do now, turn around?”
What had Connor gotten himself, gotten them, into? This was all too much and happening way too fast. “Are you kidding me? There’s no way I plan to turn this plane around.”
“Yes, I was kidding. But then again, what choice do we have?” Jake asked.
Connor couldn’t stand the defeat he heard in his brother’s voice. Incredulity raced through his veins, and he cut Jake a glance. “Like that’s any choice? They’d kill us on the spot. They kidnapped a woman, remember?”
When Troy had hired Connor to recover this Learjet, he told Connor that a reputable businessman had fallen behind on his payments and all Connor needed to do was fly the jet back.
You might want to consider using the element of surprise...
Troy’s words seemed to echo in the cockpit now. After everything that had happened, Connor understood the warning better, and he understood something else, as well—the man who had owned this Learjet was anything but reputable. Maya’s presence just upped the stakes, but maybe they could come out of this like heroes.
The fighter jet flew closer then thrust ahead of the Lear, flying in front of them in a dangerous pattern. Connor wasn’t impressed.
“Okay. I vote we call for help.” Jake emphasized the last three words. “Someone needs to know what’s going on.”
Connor shook his head, cautioning him.
“Like I said before, you get on the radio now and they might decide to destroy all the evidence.”
“They’re not going to shoot us out of the sky,” Maya said.
The sound of her smooth voice startled Connor. He hadn’t realized Maya had left her seat and now stood behind him. She knew more than she was admitting, just as he suspected. “How can you be sure?”
“I