Page 47 of The Butler

My last pact had failed miserably but I couldn’t help myself. “Let’s check in with each other in a couple years, Captain. Maybe my life will be better then,” I said, almost believing it could be.

He let go of my arms and stuck his hand out. “Deal!” We held each other’s eyes and I think we both understood this would be another failed agreement on my part. “Your shuttle just pulled up,” he said. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Dek.”

“Me too.”

Starr and I were taking the same shuttle, but they’d drop her off at a different gate that didn’t need customs. Since I was heading back to the States, I’d have to go through a baggage check and customs clearance to enter. When we arrived at the airport in Cabo, we said our goodbyes and we promised to stay in touch as well. She offered more cruising jobs and I was gracious about it, but we both knew I was done with working on boats. I was going back to school and getting myself further into debt, but I felt it was for the best. If I wanted to work for the best, I needed to be the best.

The flights to the US were on the opposite end of the terminal and I was alone in the shuttle. My shuttle driver was oddly enough wearing a black suit that I hadn’t even noticed when Starr and I had boarded. He seemed too professional and stuffy to be shuttling vacationers around Cabo all day.

“Why did you go past my gate?” I yelled from the back of the shuttle. The driver ignored me, so I stood and moved forward, sitting directly behind him and the glass divider. “You missed my gate.”

“There’s been a change, Mr. Dalton,” he declared. “Your plane is departing directly from the tarmac due to travel congestion.”

“What about my luggage and going through customs?” I asked.

“That will be the same as usual. The plane is just not at the usual gate due to an issue with a jetway. Surely you’ve boarded via stairs and directly from the tarmac, sir?” he asked.

I nodded but it seemed odd to me. I hadn’t received any information from Alaska Airlines about any changes. “You’re sure?” I asked, still confused and getting a tad frightened. I mean, this was Mexico.

He didn’t respond and I became even more alarmed.

“Do you work for this shuttle company?” I asked.

“Of course, Mr. Dalton.”

“How do you know my name?” I asked suspiciously. My eyes scanned for a clipboard or any paperwork that would have had mine and Starr’s names on it but didn’t see one. “I asked you a question,” I said.

The shuttle came to a stop at a security gate, and I could see the runway and several airplanes on the tarmac. Most were smaller private jets and a few had logos of recognizable airlines. I felt myself relaxing at seeing that we were going onto the actual tarmac. A security guard waved us through and instead of heading toward the larger airplanes, he took a left and drove along a row of expensive-looking jets and oversized structures.

“My plane should be back there,” I said, standing and holding on to two chrome poles to keep my balance. Squatting a bit, I turned and watched as we got further from the large planes that were used in international flights. “Let me out of here,” I demanded, feeling the hairs on my neck stand up. My sixth sense for danger launched into overdrive.

“One more moment, sir,” he said. The shuttle slowed down outside a very large building that had two massive doors that were slightly opened in front. After coming to a stop, the driver stood and motioned for me to get out. “This way, Mr. Dalton.”

“I’m not getting out of this van. Where the fuck am I and why are you not listening to me?” I asked. “This is kidnapping, mister.” My adrenaline was pumping and I found myself sizing him up.Could I get away from this guy?Now that I was mere feet away from the driver, I began to notice all sorts of shit I hadn’t seen before. The guy was built like a football player. His suit barely contained his over-juiced physique. He had an earpiece on and was speaking softly into a mouthpiece I also hadn’t detected. “Take me to departures!” I demanded.

“There we go, sir,” he said, pointing to another man in a suit that was coming out of the giant building. “He can explain.”

“Fuck off! Who are you people? Get me away from here or open this fucking door,” I hissed. I knew these two guys were in a cartel or something. Maybe the mob.Did they want me to shove heroin up my ass and make me take it across the border?My forehead broke out in a cold sweat and I was about to kick out the door’s glass when the approaching man waved toward us. Shocked,I bent down and stared out the windows at the approaching figure. He appeared familiar to me somehow, but the suit had me confused. He wasn’t in all black like my kidnapper, but his suit was stylish and obviously tailored.

“Mr. Majors would like to speak with you,” the shuttle driver said.

Bob Majors? Lincoln’s right-hand man and best friend.“Is thatBobMajors?” I asked, suddenly feeling a million percent safer. I knew Bob. I liked Bob. He scared me, but I think Bob liked me too.

The door to the shuttle magically opened and I exited quickly.

Bob was almost to the front of it when I came around. “Hello, Deklyn,” he said, offering his hand.

“What the fuck, Mr. Majors? This scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry, Dek. Not my intention for sure,” he said. “And call me Bob.”

“Is this about the job offer?” I asked. When I get flustered I tend to speak in rapid fire sentences. “This is crazy. I’m going back to college, sir. Maybe after that we can speak about employment. I have a flight to catch too, by the way.”

“Can you please follow me into the hangar?” he asked, pointing to the massive structure he’d just come out of. “I’ll have you on your flight immediately after.”

“What about my baggage?” I asked, gesturing to the shuttle.

“It stays on the bus until you leave. It is completely safe with Tank.” If Tank was the appropriately named dude driving the shuttle, I imagined it was.

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