Page 25 of Running Scared
“Wait until my wrist unit beeps,” Bailey said.“Then pull the cord.Don’t oversteer, and don’t do anything drastic unless it looks like I’m landing on a cactus.”
“We’re over a site that used to be a farm,” Dean said.“The field below us hasn’t grown over yet.You should be safe from cacti, but, you know, just in case.”
“Take them seriously,” Bailey said.“I’m a doctor in Texas, Dean.I’ve pulled more spines out of people’s asses than you even want to know.”
Dean gave him a quick grin.“That’s my boy,” he said.“You keep being feisty.You’ll land fine.”
“Dean!”Bailey said in sudden panic.“Dean, I want to say so much, and I don’t know where you’ll be, and—”
Dean’s tap on his helmet was grounding.
“Don’t worry.I’ll catch you later.Say hi to Val for me!”
And then Bailey was gazing at the open bay door of the airplane, staring at a wide blue horizon, while Dean walked him up to the mark.
A few taps on his watch and….
As easy as falling out of an airplane.
The wind roared through his flight suit, screamed in his ears, battered at his face, and he was in freefall, the ground 8,000 feet and counting.
Bailey shouted in exhilaration and wanted to look at Dean and tell him this was frickin’awesome!
But Dean was back on the airplane, and Bailey had to concentrate or he’d never get to tell him anything again.
Destinations
MARCUS’S FLIGHTsuit was attached to the frame by the bay door, which was why he was the one to lean out of the airplane and watch as Bailey—and the crate holding the cat and supplies—landed.
Dean’s heart didn’t beat normally until Marcus gave him the thumbs-up.
“Val?”he heard himself asking as Marcus slammed the bay door shut.
“About a mile away,” Marcus confirmed.“Could spot that purple rig from space!”
Dean’s knees went a little wobbly.He wasn’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to him that kicking his lover out of an airplane at 8,000 feet might be a risky proposition for romance, but until Bailey had regarded him with enormous eyes—and enormous faith behind them—he wasn’t sure if he’d ever known fear before.
“Good,” he said weakly.“Now for phase two.”
“And phase two would be?”As they spoke, both of them were slipping out of their flight suits and donning faded khaki cargo pants, ribbed tanks, and battered madras shirts.They wore socks, because trekking through the desert without them wasn’t fun, but the kind that were hidden under the edges of their walking boots.Their casual rucksacks carried two changes of clothes—one of them black microfiber for nightwork—extra batteries for their communication devices, protein bars, water, and, hey, their service weapons and enough C-4 to take out….
Well, Dean’s brain kind of skittered around that last one.
It was one thing to talk about “bringing a cartel down” or “bringing the mob members to justice,” but it was another to contemplate mass murder in order to assure his boyfriend’s survival.
But then after seeing what these two gangs had been doing toeach otherover the last year, Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to contemplate what they’d do to his sweet little Bailey for just finding the wrong body.
“I’m on board,” Marcus said softly, and in his eyes, Dean could see it.The weariness that had been edging in on both of them.The discomfort that came with knowing they were fighting a losing war in which the only people who were ever brought to justice were the small fish who’d never had a chance to be anything bigger than fry.
“We have to survive getting to the compound first,” Dean told him.There was a small airstrip outside of Sangrino del Corazón, the compound that featured a military barracks surrounding a villa that housed the cartel leader’s family.Gael Barrera was known for being absolutely ruthless, creatively bloody, and horny as a goat.The villa had grown so large in order to house his wife, two mistresses, and the knot of little Gaels, many of whom were at the preteen age, ready to join their father’s ranks to serve as his lieutenants.
“What’s the plan?”Marcus asked, and Dean glanced at him, the telepathy of a nearly six-year working relationship in fully functional order.
“Of course,” Marcus replied after a moment.
The secret, Dean thought with satisfaction, was that he and Marcus were such sticklers for order on the bureaucratic scale.Dean’s genius IQ added to his obsession over details, and Marcus’s ability to smooth talk the powers that be gave them theillusionthat they never walked into a situation without a firm objective to justify what came next.
The secret, therealsecret, was that Dean and Marcus had survived for six years on luck and quick thinking.
