Sixty-Three

Sabrina looked out the window of the plane and continued to do the same thing she’d been doing for past six hours. Figure a way out of this mess. No one said where they were taking her or what they planned to do with her when they got there, but judging from the length of the flight and the terrain below, she knew exactly where she was headed: Colombia. Home to Alberto Reyes. As for what they planned to do to her … the scenarios running through her head were less than pleasant.

Courtney’s phone chirped and she answered, shooting Sabrina a quick glance as she angled her body away from her so she could talk without being observed.

She spoke quietly into the phone for a few minutes before moving down the aisle toward Sabrina. “For you,” she said, holding her cell out in front of her.

Sabrina took the phone. “Please tell me they’re okay.”

“They’re both fine,” Ben said. “You wearing the boots I gave you?”

“Of course,” she said, looking up at Courtney, wondering if she heard his question.

Ben sighed into the phone. “Good. Look, I’m sorry. I should have known—”

“Stop,” she said, unwilling to let him take the blame. “This isn’t your fault. Just take care of them, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Ben said, but he wasn’t very convincing.

“I’m serious, Ben. They’re the priority here. If something happens to them—”

Courtney reached out and took the phone from Sabrina’s hand, and she had to press herself into the seat to keep from launching herself at her.

“There. Satisfied?” she said a few moments before she smiled. “Why, Mr. Shaw, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Courtney hung up and pocketed the phone before taking a seat in the plush leather chair across from her. “We need to have a little talk, you and me,” Courtney said, leaning into the space between their seats, elbows braced on her knees.

Sabrina cut her a short look before turning back toward the window. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

“Just listen, then,” Courtney said. “Those one million and one escape plans you’ve got running through your head? Forget every single one of them. There’re men—men with guns—who are going to meet us. They’ll use zip-ties to restrain you, put you onto a helicopter, and take you directly to Alberto Reyes. I need you to let them.”

“Why?” she said, a humorless smile touching at the corners of her mouth. “Do you get a bonus if I’m delivered alive?”

Courtney sat back, absorbing the bumps and jolts of the Lear’s obvious descent. “You think I work for Reyes?”

She shrugged. She wasn’t entirely comfortable with the chiding tone that the other woman used on her. “Is it so far-fetched?”

“Well, yeah, considering we’re sitting in Benjamin Shaw’s private plane.”

Now Sabrina looked her full in the face. “If you expect me to believe that Ben had anything to do with this, you’re crazier than I thought.”

They landed, bumping along a strip of dirt running down the middle of a clearing, surrounded by dense jungle. As soon as the plane rolled to a stop, Courtney stood, forcing Sabrina to look up at her. “Huh. I wouldn’t have figured you for a blind loyalist.”

“And I wouldn’t have figured you for a murdering bitch,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “I guess we were both wrong.”

The door to the cockpit opened, the pilot poking his head out. “The helo is five minutes out,” he said, casting his gaze past the woman he was talking to. Something passed over his face and for a second, Sabrina could have sworn it was regret. “They want her waiting on the tarmac.”

“Okay. Give me a minute will you?” Courtney said over her shoulder, and the guy behind her nodded before retreating into the cockpit. “Hate me or love me, Sabrina—I really couldn’t give a shit which—but if you’re smart, you’ll trust me and listen to what I’m telling you,” she said once the door was shut.

Sabrina stood slowly. “And why would I want to do that?”

“Because you aren’t being handed over to Reyes so much as you’re being activated,” Courtney said, tossing her a tank top.

“Activated?” The word rocked her back on her heels and she stared down at the wad of fabric she suddenly found in her hand. “What are you talking about, activated?”

“Mr. Shaw feels like it’s time you started earning your keep,” Courtney said. “You need to put that on.”

Sabrina rubbed the fabric between her fingers for a moment. It was made of lightweight neoprene. Some sort of mesh between the layers. “I’ve already got clothes on, but thanks,” she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.

“Do yours stop bullets?” Courtney lifted her shirt to reveal a garment identical to the one she was holding. “Put it on.”

For once in her life, Sabrina did as she was told, turning and stripping off her button-down and undershirt to pull the tank on. It lay thick and cool against her skin as she wrestled back into her shirt. She turned back to find Courtney looking her up and down like she was trying to find something.

“Where is it?”

The back of her neck went hot. “Where’s what?”

“The weapon you’ve got stashed.”

Her gaze zeroed in on the Glock 33 Courtney had strapped to her hip. “Maybe I planned on taking yours.”

“We really don’t have time for this. Tell me where it is because they’re gonna look—hard—and if they find it, we’re both dead.” Courtney rolled her eyes at her reluctance to fess up.

She could hear the faint whoomp of helicopter blades cut through the air, getting closer by the second. “I have a six-shot LCP hidden in the sole of my left boot. Two extra magazines in the right.”

Courtney smiled. “How very James Bond of you. Only use it if you absolutely have to. Once you start shooting, the gloves will come off, and Reyes isn’t one to dick around.”

The cockpit door opened again. “They’re less than a minute out and asking why she’s not waiting.”

“Alright. Tell them we’re headed out now.” Courtney took her by her arm and gave her a tug. “Let’s go.”

The woman guided Sabrina down the center aisle of the plane to the hatch, letting go of her to pop the door lock. They stood there, side by side, while the hydraulic motor dropped the stairs onto the dirt runway. As soon as they were deployed, Courtney drew her gun and jerked her head. “After you.”

Sabrina did at she was told, taking the stairs slowly. About five hundred yards out, she could see a helo, coming in fast. “You haven’t told me what I’m supposed to be doing. If I’m not being marched to my death, then why am I here?” she said as she walked toward the concrete pad about fifty yards from the plane.

They came to a stop just as the helicopter touched down. Two men climbed out, each wearing dark fatigues, AR-15s strapped to their chests. The one at the head of the helo held the door open while another man stepped out. He was no taller than her own five-ten, but even beneath the Armani suit, she could see a wiry strength that would prove formidable in a close-contact fight. His dark hair was threaded with just enough silver to be considered distinguished. The emeralds in his cufflinks winked in the late afternoon sun and he flashed them; whether it was intentional or habit, she couldn’t tell. The designer sunglasses he wore hid his eyes, but she didn’t have to see them to know they would be small and cruel. As soon as he saw Sabrina, his face split into a broad grin.

Courtney leaned over her shoulder, bringing her mouth close to her ear so she could speak without being heard by the men in front of them. “You’re plan B.”