Page 38 of Shadow Games

Britton made a face. “He might be along later.”

Jack, the real pilot, was in the middle of the aisle. Rowan was holding a towel to his chest, where the blood had blossomed, murmuring to him quietly that he was going to be ok.

“He was already on here when we made it to the plane,” she said quietly.

Wyatt looked down at Jack, even as he bent his legs to accommodate for the gravitational pull as they lifted off. He braced a hand against the bulkhead.

Echo was curled into a ball near the door, licking at a bloody wound in her rear haunch. Fuck, she’d been shot too. He thought she had been, but he’d hoped otherwise.

Britton grinned at him. “What a situation we find ourselves in, wouldn’t you say? Long time, no see, Thorn. We were hoping one of those black bears had eaten you in the mountains, yet here you are. How did you know what was going on? Who told you?”

Britton hadn’t changed. He was still a snide mother fucker. Every word out of his mouth was sarcastic. And he’d grated on Wyatt’s last nerve. Yeah, he’d been a decent operator when he put himself out, but he was a part of the rot of SEAL Team Seven.

“I don’t know who told me,” he said. “Some random woman on the other end of the line. She offered me a chance to save Rowan, so I took it.”

Britton made a face, his gaze turning to her. “Ah, yes. Rowan. You’ve caused a lot of issues this week. Actually, you’ve been a pain in the ass ever since you came around, distracting Blade. Aren’t you glad I got rid of him for you?”

She gave him a tight smile. “So, you were the one who shot him. We thought it was the cartel.”

“Nah, he had an ‘in’ with them. Have you heard about the little Chiquita he was with? She befuddled his brain and he lost sight of what we were doing.”

“Which was what,” Rowan snapped.

A harsh light entered Britton’s eyes, and Wyatt tensed. It might get him shot, but there was no way he was going allow him to hurt Rowan.

“We were building a future that didn’t rely on the government. Another year and we would have had enough to get the fuck out of here,” he snarled. “Get away from all the shit-shoveling we do overseas.”

A light danced in his expression. “Now that Blade is gone and I’ve taken his cut, though, my team and I can bug out.”

“You’re a bastard,” Rowan said. “A self-serving asshole.”

Anger curled Britton’s mouth and he moved as if to slap her. Rowan lifted her chin, almost daring him, and Wyatt tensed.

“Careful, Whisper,” Britton said, catching the slight movement. The gun barrel never wavered from him. “I want you to sit in that seat right there.” He pointed to the seat directly across from the door. “And the lovely Rowan is going to secure your wrists with this.” He dropped a thick, black zip-tie to the floor beside her. It was already looped and looked like a big black bow. “You might as well leave the pilot, Rowan. I have a feeling he’s not going to survive the flight,” he chuckled.

Wyatt moved very deliberately toward the seat, his eyes flicking toward the cockpit. Then his gaze flicked to Echo. She whined, and his heart shuddered at what he was about to make her do.

Britton waved the gun and Rowan shifted. She picked up the zip-tie and moved toward Wyatt, but she lurched as the plane suddenly dropped altitude. Arms flailing, she staggered, tripping over the pilot in the center of the aisle. She fell hard near the door of the plane, and she cried out. Wyatt flicked his fingers, and with a pain-filled battle-cry, Echo launched herself at the hand with the gun, determined to protect him. It went off before she could latch on, and even as Wyatt moved he knew she’d been hit. Her cry ripped through his soul. With all the force in him, he took Britton down.

The operator grunted as they fell between the seats, beyond Jack’s head. Wyatt pounded his fists into Britton’s face, over and over again, not even giving him a chance to raise his gun hand. When he did try to lift it, Wyatt slammed the hand against the chair rail, once, twice, until he felt the bones give. Britton cried out, the gun falling to the floor. Rowan appeared beside him and snatched the gun away, then she offered the zip-tie, but Wyatt wasn’t done. Britton had taken part in the killing of the SEALs, the killing of Switch, and now Echo. Not to mention so many other people he’d thrown to their deaths with his greed. His team was ruined and if any of this came to light, the country would have a lasting stain. He pounded Britton’s smug face until the nose gave, then something else around his eye.

“Wyatt! You have to stop, please!”

He heard Rowan’s voice, but it took him a minute to understand. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t what he did. He reared up and off the former operator, shocked at what he’d done. The man’s face was a bloody pulp. Taking the zip-tie, he secured him, broken arm and all.

“We have to help them,” she said, shaking him by the arms.

Them. He looked down at the floor. Echo was wedged between the seats, panting. Her eyes followed him as he knelt beside her. “Hey, girl. You did such a good job.”

He scrambled in his pockets for the cellphone.

“Teniente,” he yelled. “On the ground, now!”

He called Charlie. She picked up on the first ring.

“Are you tracking us?”

“Yes.”

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