Page 88 of Trust No One

“When are we gonna take off?” He frowned. “Have they even closed the doors yet?”

Mel shrugged.

He shoved her shoulder toward the window. “Look outside, you idiot. Tell me if the door’s closed.”

She put her forehead on the window, and the cool glass felt good against her skin. As she savored it, Cliff shoved her arm. “Is it open or not, you imbecile?”

She blinked and focused. The door was still open. Which would make Cliff less nervous? Door open or closed?

Door closed. He’d take that as a sign they were getting ready to move.

“I can’t see the door,” she said. “I assume that means it’s closed.”

He drew in a deep breath. Blew it out. “Good. Okay. They’re getting ready to leave.”

She hoped they were getting ready to run an operation to free her and capture Kingsley. But she nodded. “Most likely.”

A whisper of air floated past her, as if someone were moving up the aisle behind them. Instead of looking, she cleared her throat. “So have you ever been to the Maldives, Cliff?”

He shrugged. “A few times. I wasn’t going to settle somewhere without checking it out first.”

“Sounds like you already bought a place there.”

He smiled. “Yeah, but the CIA’ll never find it. It’s buried deep. And the transaction was made on the dark web, so there’s no record of it.”

She frowned, as if she didn’t understand. “Then how do you know it’s in your name?”

He scoffed. “I have a paper copy of the deed in my briefcase. Money in banks over there. And plenty of U.S. dollars in that briefcase. I’ll be able to grease as many palms as necessary.”

He turned to face the front of the plane again. As he leaned into the aisle to see what was going on up front, a pair of hands in work gloves snaked a colorful necktie around Kingsley’s neck. The gloved hands yanked it tight and pulled.

Kingsley’s hands flew to his neck. But the silk tie was tight and he couldn’t slide his fingers beneath it. Couldn’t pull it free. His face turned red. His eyes bulged. He tried to suck in air, but his face turned darker red. Then purple.

Two pairs of flex cuffs dropped into Mel’s lap. “Wrists and ankles, babe,”

Dev. Mel swiveled and saw Dev behind Kingsley, his gloved hands steady on the tie. “Right now, Mel.”

She scrambled to grab one of Kingsley’s wrists. Her fingers were too thick. Clumsy. She struggled with the flex tie and finally wound it around one wrist. Fumbled with his other wrist. Kingsley fought her grip, but his hands were weak. More unsteady than her hands. They shook slightly as it took her several tries to slide the end of the tie through the slot on the other side. When it was through, she yanked the flex cuff tight, until Kingsley’s hands were bound together.

She dropped clumsily to the floor, shoved his jeans above his ankles and repeated the maneuver, tugging with clumsy hands until his ankles were secured, as well. Then she slid her hands up his left leg. It was clear.

On his right leg, she found a gun in an ankle holster. She removed the gun and tossed it into the aisle.

Kingsley was falling unconscious, and she nodded to Dev. “Let him go. Ankles and wrists are secured, and I removed the gun from his ankle holster. You need to stand him up so we can make sure he doesn’t have any other weapons.”

Dev pulled the improvised garotte tighter, as if he hadn’t heard her.

“Dev,” she said reaching for his arm with an unsteady hand. “Stop. Don’t kill him. He’s not worth having that on your conscience.”

His fingers loosened a little. “Get that god-damned syringe first.”

She pulled it carefully out of Kingsley’s pocket and set it on the floor.

Dev released the tie from Kingsley’s neck and yanked him to his feet. As Kingsley swayed in the aisle, Dev patted him down roughly, pulling a knife out of one pocket and a small gun out of another. Finally he said, “He’s clean.”

He tossed Kingsley onto the floor, and after ensuring he couldn’t reach any of the weapons, Dev reached for Mel and tugged her against him. Wrapped his arms around her so tightly she could barely breathe. But she didn’t care. She wound her arms around him and held on just as tightly.

He tore the hat off her head and tangled his fingers in her hair. Pressed his mouth against hers and kissed her as if he were a dying man in the desert and she was water.

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