Page 107 of Exit Strategy

“Bring it, I could use the support.”

There was a buzz and a click, and the cockpit door popped open. We stepped in, and Arizona, that splendid sunburned aspiring cowboy actor, was sitting in the copilot seat with a revolver poked into the ribs of the cargo master. The pilot was dripping sweat, nerves rattled.

“Need a hand?”

“Always, sir,” he said.

“Are these guys on their side, or just unconvinced?”

“I’m not part of New Eden,” the pilot said, swallowing hard. “I got nothing in this, but a wife and kids—”

I cut him off. “You’re fine, just follow instructions. We’re going to turn this bird around and head back to BWI, same runway we took off from. You’ll get to be a hero.”

“The fuck you will turn this around,” the cargo master snarled.

“Oh, Chester, I didn’t know they let you out of the kennels. Are you allowed to be within five hundred feet of normal humans now?” I asked.

“Fuck you, Worthy, you piece of shit,” he growled.

I hit him the face with the butt of the pistol, and he screamed, spitting out a few teeth and a mouthful of blood. I reached over and thumbed the intercom. “Cass, you there? Send me someone you trust. Whatever girl picked up the pink pistol, I have a prisoner who needs to go in the cargo bay.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. A moment later, a pretty, pale girl with black hair popped through the door, clutching the pink pistol in a death grip.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Levi,” she answered.

“Mind your finger on the trigger, the safety is off. You don’t want an accidental misfire, especially when you’re escorting Mister Dog Fucker to the cargo door. If he offers you any problems, feel free to shoot him, especially down low, through the kidneys. That’s bloody and it hurts a lot. He deserves it, don’t you, Chester?”

“That’s all bullshit and you know it,” he said with a hand over his bleeding mouth.

“Chester here got in trouble for running a dog-fighting ring, back before reforming his wicked ways and joining New Eden. What did you do for these guys, again?”

“Trained dogs,” he said.

“Lose any?”

“That’s something that happens,” he said. “Just part of the job.”

“Were you still running an eco-friendly dog-fighting ring?”

He shook his head in denial, but I could see his eyes. His eyes were afraid, guilty as fuck. I gestured and he unbuckled his belt, and let Levi lead him down the corridor. I heard the door open, some shouting, and then the door shut again. Levi came back and gave me a nod.

“So, what’s the plan, Chief?” Arizona asked.

“I’m going to take the trash out,” I said. “Which button opens the loading ramp?”

“We can’t open the ramp in mid-air,” the hired pilot said. “It’s against regs.”

“I’ve got a gun and don’t give two shits about regulations. I’ve already shot seven people today. Do you want to be number eight?” He shook his head. “If the ramp is dropped, will it make us crash?”

“It won’t make us crash, but we’ll be exposing everything in the cargo bay to low oxygen and low temp.”

“Well, that’s the plan,” I said. “Which button? I’ll do it, so your conscience stays clear, how about that, mate?” He pointed at a button on the console. I reached over and flicked the cover up and pressed it. I could feel a moment of hesitation and the plane shuddered. Both men had to hang onto the controls, but it evened out.

“I don’t think we’re high enough,” I said. “We need to climb, urgently.”

“Sir, what are you trying—” the hired man asked.

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