Page 19 of Booker's Mission

Charlie waved him off. “I’m not completely oblivious to what’s out there. I’ve got a few sensors along that road, and no one’s followed you up it. Guaranteed.”

“While that’s comforting, I’d…” He paused, cocking his head to the side as he stared out at the rainy landing strip. Brow furrowed. His perfect mouth pursed into a tight line. “Do you hear that?”

Charlie huffed. “The distant roll of thunder? Yeah, which is what I’m trying to tell you. It’s going to get a whole lot uglier out there before this storm passes, assuming it doesn’t turn into something more tropical.”

“It’s not thunder…”

He peered into the darkness, tilting his head for a moment before he inhaled — twisting and taking them both to the ground before Callie could get a word out. Try to catch a glimpse of what he was looking at.

Not that she needed to look. Two seconds later, and thewhop whop whopechoed through the air, a glint of something metallic shining in the sky from a distant fork of lightning. Another two seconds, and bullets were chewing up the ground, the muzzle flashes making the fog glow as dirt and grass shot into the air.

Callie had just enough time to see it fly past before Booker was yanking her to her feet — giving her a quick once-over. “Chopper, now.”

“But it’s still inside…” She let the words fade when he pointed at the machine, acknowledging that flying was his wheelhouse. Not hers.

Charlie ran over with them, his phone springing to life with pings and chirps. “Shit.”

Booker merely shook his head, removing a few tie downs. “Let me guess… Those sensors are going off.”

“You weren’t joking about more guys with guns, were you.”

Charlie hadn’t asked, and Booker merely shrugged. “Open the doors as wide as possible then get your ass someplace they won’t see you. I’m betting they’ll leave as soon as we do.” Booker handed Charlie a card. “This is Wyatt Bixby’s number. If I don’t call you in the next twenty-four hours to let you know we’re both still breathing, call him and tell him to get his ass out of Kirby’s bed and on a plane. And he’s going to need everything you’ve got, buddy.”

“I have another vehicle. You don’t have to be bait, not to mention there’s a thunderstorm heading this way.”

“We’ll be fine. And the thunderstorm is exactly what’s going to get all our asses out of the fire. Stay safe. And, thanks… I owe you.”

Booker hopped in the chopper, pushed in a few circuit breakers then started her up. No running through checks like Callie remembered from previous trips. No waiting for the dials to do whatever they normally did. All those times she’d watched him because he was so damn mesmerizing. So freaking handsome and strong. This was just a glance, then him firing up the machine. Getting it airborne in less than a minute.

He looked over to see if she was buckled, waited until Charlie had vanished, then picked up the helicopter and started for the open doors. Not that Callie thought they’d even fit because… Booker was halfway there, and she swore he was already chipping away at the walls. Sending bits of wood and dust swirling through the air.

Another few feet, and two guys appeared in front of them, guns at their hips. Faces hidden in the shadows. They lifted the rifles — muzzles aimed at the bubble — when Booker surged forward, picking up speed at some crazy rate. As if he’d kicked in a turbo boost.

The bastards got off a shot — pegged it through the bubble and into the instrument panel — before they were diving for cover. Booker nearly catching them both with the skid gear as he shot through the hanger doors, missing the frame by mere inches.

A tilt forward and a bank to the right, and they were screaming over the ground, quickly eating up the short stretch of open grass, a thicket of trees baring down on them. Booker kept going, keeping them a foot off the damn ground before angling them back. Shoving her into the seat as the chopper pitched up, the skid gear brushing a few leaves before they were clear. Nothing but rain and fog and utter darkness.

Booker glanced behind him, cursing, before looking her in the eyes. “Hold on, sweetheart. The ride’s only just begun.”

CHAPTER5

Screwed.

No other way to put it. To soften the blow or downplay the situation. Just the two of them, alone in the chopper, royally fucked.

Booker checked to see if the other helicopter was dogging them, yet, then scanned the instruments, not that they were helping. The one shot those assholes had gotten off had taken out half the array, the remaining gauges just starting to normalize after his abrupt departure. Though, not hearing any alarms was a blessing, especially with the lack of a warmup followed by him pegging a few of the needles into the red as he’d barreled out of the hanger — raced across the ground before having her climb. Hard. But, desperate times…

He should have anticipated more men would follow this quickly. That the first car, which had disappeared, was still in the game. That they’d kept their lights off and used the fog to trail behind just enough to see Booker turn down the old road. That the bastards would call in reinforcements. Even if the assholes didn’t know exactly where Booker had ventured, the road only led to one place.

God, he hoped Charlie was okay. That the men had left as soon as Booker had nearly plowed into the mercenaries. Because if he thought for a second that he might be the reason his buddy got killed…

Booker couldn’t think that way. Charlie was resourceful. Had already vanished before the men had arrived at the hanger. And if Booker knew his buddy, the guy had several secure hiding spots already in place on the off-chance the wrong people came looking for him.

Not that Booker had time to worry when that helicopter from earlier appeared behind them, cutting across their path — a series of flashes preceding the barrage of bullets that filled the sky, a few ricocheting off the skid gear. What could result in a catastrophic incident if he didn’t up his game. Be the guy he should have been all those months ago.

Callie glanced behind them, bracing one arm on the window when he banked it hard to her side, skimming across the trees then dipping into a small clearing that bordered on one of the rivers. He didn’t wait to see if the other aircraft followed, simply cranked it over, then wound his way along the bank, everything rushing past in a dark blur. A few birds squawked then flew off, black streaks against the deep gray.

Thick fog rolled along the water, and he prayed it wasn’t hiding anything he couldn’t adapt to. That there weren’t hidden wires or some kind of buoy. Maybe a boat just waiting for him to crash into it.

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