Page 100 of The Wolves Come at Night
“Just follow my lead, and have my back if things go south. Santiago would normally be my partner on a job like this. We’ve worked together for so long we don’t even need to talk.”
“I have that relationship with my men as well. They anticipate my every move.”
Angelie nodded. “You must promise me that if I give you an order, you will obey it, no questions asked. I like you, Taylor. I think we could work well together, given the proper circumstances. But there might be shooting, and there might be death. I need to know you aren’t going to be second-guessing my every move.”
The pilot, whom Angelie had introduced only as Jean-Paul, came over the speaker, interrupting them. “We’ll be on the ground in ten,” he said.
“Roger that,” Angelie replied. She turned back to Taylor. “So?”
“It’s your show, and I’ll do what’s needed. Okay?”
“D’accord. Merci,” she added, and Taylor smiled. My God, she was practically taming the damn shrew.
As warned, they touched down ten minutes later. The plane taxied to its assigned slot, and Taylor and Angelie stepped out onto the tarmac into the cool London air. A mist hung in the sky, not a falling rain, but Taylor instantly had droplets of water on her leather jacket. They weren’t drawing any attention at the moment, so she shouldered her backpack, which was full of specialized equipment in various foam-lined boxes, and followed Angelie. She could see streams of people in knots moving from the many planes on the tarmac toward the jet center, where their private cars would be waiting. They joined that flow for a hundred feet, then Angelie gently nudged Taylor’s shoulder and stepped aside. Taylor followed.
They started west. The hangar that housed Ahmad’s plane was approximately five hundred meters down the tarmac. Angelie hurried, and Taylor tried to ignore the eyes she knew must be on them. This was much more open than she’d expected. Two women hiking down the tarmac? Hardly inconspicuous.
Angelie ducked off the main channel and they were between the buildings now, with much more cover. Taylor felt better. So far, no one had given them a second look. She knew there was security, but also knew Santiago had that covered. He and Alan were doing all they could to keep Taylor and Angelie safe. She had to trust them.
Though her watch said the sun was setting, the light was gray and milky. A very British day for a heist.
They were one hangar from their target when Taylor spotted the guards. She grabbed Angelie’s arm.
“Hold up. They look like they’re on alert.”
“Of course they are. Don’t worry. We’re going in the side, here.”
She hauled open the door—Taylor couldn’t believe how lucky they were to have found it unlocked—and they entered the darkness, pausing a moment to let their eyes adjust.
Lights played on the plane itself and shone in the hangar’s second-floor office, where gentle music played. But on this side of the huge building, it was gloom. They froze and listened, and the footsteps of a guard rang clear. He was pacing approximately twenty feet from their position. Why guard the door when you could be inside out of the rain, and closer to the light?
Taylor whispered, “We can go around. I looked at the blueprints. There’s another entrance by the western gate.”
She wasn’t quiet enough. The guard snapped his head to their position and took a step toward them. Shit.
“Non.”
Angelie moved like a cobra. She was on him in a heartbeat, before he had a chance to raise the alarm. The suppressor on her pistol coughed. The guard fell to his knees, then crumpled to the ground. The shot had taken him in the throat, right above his body armor. He twitched several times as his brain got the message that his body was dying, and his gaze went deep into a darkening sky no one could see but him. Blood began to pool under his shoulders, and Angelie gestured to his now dead form.
“We need to move him.”
“Damn it, there was no need to kill him. You could have disabled him, and we could have gone to the other entrance. My God, Angelie. I thought we’d agreed you wouldn’t hurt anyone who wasn’t trying to hurt us first.”
Angelie sighed.
“I agreed not to hurt you. You must understand, Taylor. We are on a schedule. We do not have time to seek ingress elsewhere. And if you keep wasting my time, I might renege on our deal, simply shoot you, and leave you in the gutter. Take his arm.”
Taylor took his arm.
They dragged the man to the side and moved deeper into the hangar. The plane was a hundred feet ahead. They were in luck; the door to the plane was open, the movable staircase already nestled up against the opening. The trick was going to be getting up the stairs unnoticed—they were on the office side of the hangar. And a man was wandering nearby, whether a guard or a maintenance worker, she had no idea. But he turned, and she saw the bulge of the weapon under his arm. Damn. Another guard.
“Well?” Taylor whispered, once the guard was well out of earshot. “What would Santiago do in this situation?”
“Kill the guard before he realizes his partner is down.”
“Any other options?”
Angelie looked at her watch. “We have a five-minute window before we need to be inside that plane. We will wait here.”
