Page 56 of Undercover Savior

The helicopterthat arrived on Tag’s estate was different from the one I’d taken to Edinburgh. The pilot was someone I recognized from Unit 23.

“Savior,” he said when we got in.

“Osprey,” I responded, wondering if Sullivan had picked up on his use of my code name. No doubt she had.

We went as far as the private airfield in Glasgow, where we boarded a private plane also owned by Unit 23.

“Hello, Angel,” I said when we boarded and I saw her in the cockpit. She often flew with an American pilot who was a contractor for the unit. “Is Crash with you today?” I asked.

“No. Condor, who hasn’t yet arrived, will be copiloting.” I’d never met her or him, but Angel was clearly not pleased about their tardiness. Given my current state of high anxiety, neither was I.

“Sullivan, this is Teagon, who as I’m sure you heard, we call Angel.”

After the two women shook hands, I led Sullivan into the cabin. “Do you have a preference as to where we sit?” I asked.

“You’re kidding, yes?”

I cocked my head.

“I’ll confess I’ve never traveled via private plane, so no, I do not have a preference.”

“One grows to take it for granted, I suppose.” Particularly given when I had occasion to make use of it, it was to carry out an assignment.

I chose captain’s chairs in the middle of the cabin.

“So, Savior?”

I half smiled. “Caught that, did you?”

“Interesting code name, although I have considered you mine.”

I wasn’t one to embarrass easily nor would anyone describe me as particularly humble. Sullivan’s words made me feel both.

“Have I thanked you for saving my life?” she asked, resting her hand on my arm.

“More than once, err, I mean, thanked me.”

“He’s arrived,” Angel said from the front of the plane. “Once we’re in the air, flight time will be approximately ninety minutes. Feel free to help yourselves to what’s in the galley.”

“Would you like anything? Something to drink or eat?” I asked after thanking Angel.

“Whatever you’re having.”

I typically refrained from having anything on my way to an assignment. Afterwards, I had two fingers of bourbon, neat. While I was certain there were plenty of offerings, I had no idea what they might be. “Shall we take a look?” When I stood and held out my hand, Sullivan took it. Without releasing it, I led her to the front of the plane just as the copilot arrived.

“Hello,” the man with an American accent said.

I nodded once but didn’t respond, nor did I introduce him to Sullivan.

“Charcuterie, more charcuterie, and a wide range of beverages, including my favorite bourbon.”

“That sounds quite good, actually.”

I poured two glasses. “Ice?” I asked.

Her eyes widened. “And water it down? Never.”

I chuckled. “A woman after my own heart.” Not that she didn’t already own it. Given I hadn’t eaten much in the last few days and doubted Sullivan had either, I also brought two charcuterie trays to our seats.

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