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TEGA HADN’T LET HIS gun hand rest. But how long could he hold it up? Not forever. Probably not even too much longer. I was already impressed by how long he had managed to hold the Five-Seven. The weight must’ve been really straining his wrist by this time.
I looked over at Hank. His leg was bleeding badly.
I shouted back to Tega, “His leg is bad. If I don’t clean him up, we won’t make it very far.”
Tega breathed heavily. Then he acknowledged that I was right. But he shouted, “Not you. Faye, you do it.”
Faye was the least doped up of all of the girls.
“You’re a nurse, right?” he asked.
She nodded and stood up. She was woozy. Anyone could see that.
Tega patted her on her butt.
She moved closer to me.
In a regular voice, which sounded like a whisper in the noisy chamber, I said, “Faye, Chris sent me.”
She looked at me. Her eyes faded in and out, but she was coherent, mostly. She asked, “Chris?”
Her voice held plenty of recognition.
“Yes.”
She walked to Hank and smiled at him. She said, “I’m going to take a look at your leg.”
She plopped down into the copilot’s seat. Then she leaned over and started checking his wound. I leaned in and acted like I was only watching, but I spoke in a low voice to both of them.
I said, “I’m going to get that gun from him. As soon as I make a move, open the rear cargo door.”
Hank glanced over at me from the corner of his eye. He said, “Are ya sure? Ya could get sucked out.”
“Don’t worry about me. If we fly out of the country, we’re all dead anyway.”
I started to turn back. I was going to rush Tega. I figured I’d probably get shot in the process, but I had no better option. And then Faye reached back and grabbed my arm—tight. Her nails dug into my right forearm.
She said, “Wait. Let me distract him.”
Before I could object, she made her move. She stood up and wobbled over to him.
Tega jumped up from the bench and pointed the Five-Seven at her.
She stopped and said, “Relax. I need the, um...” She scratched her head. “I need the first aid kit. It’s under the bench.”
Tega glanced down. A bright orange case was stuck beneath the bench, just as she had said. He nodded and motioned with the gun for her to grab it.
I clenched my fists. I flexed the muscles in my legs. I was ready to pounce.
Tega returned his aim to me.
Faye knelt down, still acting dopey. Or maybe she really was. I couldn’t tell. She grabbed the case, unhooked it from the bench, and then she swung it around in a fast and vicious backhand. The case nailed Tega square in the face. The bottom swung open, and the contents flew out. No first aid stuff, only a flare gun and a bunch of flares. The flare gun bounced onto the floor near the other girls.
At the same time, Hank hit the button to open the rear door, and I leaped up toward Tega. A bright warning light came on and flashed red across the interior of the plane. A loud warning sound buzzed. It continued to buzz as the back of the plane cracked open.
Immediately, a blast of air sucked through the cabin like a vacuum. It was light at first but became heavy and gained more power as the door continued to open slowly.
I reached Faye first. I grabbed her and flung her hard to the front of the cabin. I had no choice. She had a tiny frame. She was probably a size zero. The wind would have sucked her right out.
Then I swung blindly at Tega with a powerful left hook. I hit him square in the shoulder. He had the gun pointed in my direction. He fired it. But my punch flung him off balance, and several bullets whizzed by me. The Five-Seven takes the same rounds as the P90, with the same non-ricochet bullet technology. They slammed into the metal walls of the plane. No penetration.
The plane bounced, and the suction in the cabin grew more intense. I came back at him with a right jab, but it was hard to aim my blows. This one got him dead on the solar plexus, but it wasn’t the most powerful blow ever — not my best work. Even if I hadn’t had to fight in sketchy conditions, I was still exhausted from being awake for more than twenty-four hours.
Tega dropped his gun and let out a loud shriek. He flew back against the starboard bench, and I saw that he was wearing body armor under his rain slicker. He jumped up and came at me. I grabbed him and tried to throw him out of the plane, but he seized my collar and used the momentum of the throw against me. He returned with a fast-right jab and then a left hook. His fist was small, but he had some muscle. He knew how to fight, and he was fast—most little guys were. That was the biggest advantage small opponents always had over me. They were weaker, but they were quick.
He aimed for my face, but he missed and caught me in the chest. He would’ve been better off if he had gotten me in the face. Still, I was exhausted, and it hurt, but I didn’t squeal, not like he had. I shook it off and reared my right fist back, but he fought dirty. He kicked me in the groin.
Any man anywhere has at least one major weak spot—the groin. I was no different. I pulled my punch and grabbed at my groin. It hurt like no kind of pain I had felt in years. But I didn’t have time to worry about it. I tried to go at him again, but the pain hit me like a truck. I clamped up again.
Tega went for the Five-Seven. He got to it. He stood about six feet from me. We were both at the back of the plane. The rear door was now completely open. He pointed the gun at me. Once again, I thought I was a dead man. Game over.
Tega began to squeeze the trigger, but just then, from out of left field, a flare from the flare gun launched out of the barrel. It hissed past me and torpedoed in Tega’s direction. It lit up the cabin in a bright orange flash. The flare flew right between us and shot out into the night. It exploded behind the plane.
A split second before it exploded, Tega had turned quickly and returned fire in the direction of the flare’s origin. He had intended to hit Faye Matlind—she was the one who had picked up the flare gun, loaded it, and fired it at him. But the explosion caught him by surprise. It threw him off balance and caused him to misfire. Instead of the one bullet intended for Faye, Tega fired two rounds. And each bullet hit two different targets.
One round shot into the plane’s gauges. It caused all kinds of noises and alarms to start beeping and dinging.
The second bullet caused more damage. It did something very rare for one of those rounds—it penetrated the pilot’s seat and went through Hank’s chest. The old guy fell forward against the controls, clenching his sternum. The plane dipped into a quick nosedive.
The girls tumbled forward into the cockpit. They were all wide awake now. The adrenaline from all of the danger had jumpstarted their bodies.
Tega stumbled a couple of paces forward, and I stood my ground.
Hank’s head rose up. He pulled the controls back and got us out of the nosedive almost as fast as we had gone into it. Hank was a tough old guy. He had fought in the Navy. I remembered.
Tega jumped back to his feet and pointed the gun at me before I could attack him. He aimed at my chest and screamed, “Te vas a morir!”
Then Hank pulled back hard on the controls. Tega lost his balance and stumbled back a few feet toward the rear, near the edge.
I swiped at his gun hand with a fast backhand. The Five-Seven went flying into the air, and the slipstream sucked it out of the plane. Then I reared back on my heels, bent my knees, and leaped forward. Using every muscle from my legs all the way up to my neck, I delivered the most powerful head-butt of my life, far more powerful than the one I had given years ago on the football field, or since. My brow was rigid and powerful and landed flat against Tega’s face, concaving it, crushing his nose and bashing his face to a pulp in one powerful and fatal blow. He was dead instantly. I knew it, but I’d never find out for sure because he went flying backward, and the night air sucked him out of the rear door. I almost got pulled out after him, but I reached up with both arms and locked my palms against the ceiling, bracing myself. I watched Oskar Tega’s departure with great satisfaction. His body whipped around just outside the plane like a leaf in a storm, and seconds later he was lost to sight.
I said, “Adios.”
That was the last anyone saw of Oskar Tega.