Chapter Seven

She’d love to go one solid hour without getting shot at.

While she’d been pulling the truth from Pierce like hardened taffy, she’d kept an eye out for any danger coming up behind them. Finding trouble in front of them came as a bit of a surprise.

Almost as surprising as Pierce playing build-a-bear with a gun as big as a torso. “That can’t be legal.”

He never once looked toward her or even to the gun as he assembled it. His eyes stayed locked directly on the threat ahead of them. “It’s for situations. This is a situation. Go ahead and slide down in your seat a little more. Give them a smaller target.”

She could handle that. She leaned toward the dashboard. The gun that had icked the mess out of her earlier was now the second-best thing on the planet. Pierce’s mutant transformer gun had to be the first.

How in the heck had he gotten that thing on the plane? Maybe he could sneak a handgun or two on, but this was like bringing a tank to driver’s ed. The only way a guy gets away with something like this, is if he had some kind of government clearance. Super clearance.

“I’m going to need you to stay calm,” he said as he added vial-like arrow things to one of the gun’s compartments.

“What is that?”

“One of the tools not used often enough by my crew. It has the long range of a rifle, with the gentle kiss of a tranquilizer. Most of my comrades’ work is up close and personal. A gun like this is a liability in small spaces. For me, however...inch the car towards them, Melody. Nice and easy.”

“Closer to where their bullets are?”

“Closer to where I can reach them. Pretend I’m not a super awesome shot. In fact, consider a scenario where I’m the doctor of my team and not directly involved in day-to-day combat situations. I mean, I do okay, but I’ll take that extra foot or two,” he said, bringing the gun up.

“I thought you were the doctor of...oh.” Even in the light of the new day, his neck punched out a shade of red as bold as the rising sun. The man was embarrassed. Of what? Finishing medical school? She’d have corrected him on this idiocy, if not for the rapidly growing threat on their lives. Instead, she kept it short. “I trust you. You’re a doctor. Keep me alive. That’s what you do.”

“I’ll try,” he said with a wink. “Do your part too. Watch my back and sides. Don’t let them sneak up on us.”

Easier said than done. Rotating in the bucket seat required a childhood of gymnastics training that she didn’t have.  Training in firearms might have been helpful too. In a perfect world, he’d have thrown in a little pep talk.

All things she needed and all things she didn’t have. But she was an entrepreneur. That was years of living the “faking it until you make it” life. She handled business loans and government red tape. She’d deal with this the same way: with squared shoulders and guts.

She leveled the barrel of her gun against the headrest and waited. The shooting stopped. Men yelled out something in Spanish. Pierce shouted back. Several low-level puffs sounded by her ear. They sounded like weak bullets – if such a thing existed.

The shouts and yells became full-out screams.

She turned to see what was happening, but Pierce’s hand on her neck shoved her down. She was inclined to take his advice. The shots were movie levels by now. Only worse. Each shot rang in her ears. Her shoulders and back jerked with every bullet that flew around her. Her eardrums hurt, never mind her chest. It thudded like her heart was being punched against her ribs and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The pounding in her head was even worse. The acerbic mixture of sweat and fear seemed to swell her brain in a place far too small for it.

She felt...small. And like a child, she wanted to plug her fingers in her ears until it all went away.

And then it did.

Pierce lunged back into the seat, breathless and dripping with sweat. “You okay, mademoiselle baker?”

“Ch-chocolatier.”

“You’ll be fine.” His voice was low and encouraging but she still hadn’t mustered the strength to turn around yet. He read her like a book. “You won’t see anything other than sleeping men. I didn’t have to use anything stronger than...shit!”

He slammed her face-first into his thigh, and fired.

Only this shot was different. It wasn’t the soft whir she’d been hearing from her right. This was a jolt. A burning jolt with that nose singeing, brain rattling scent of gunpowder.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the folding tranquilizer gun between his legs. It hadn’t moved. He’d used the real gun this time. “You killed him?”

“Don’t move, Mels.”

“My name is Melody.” She wanted to smack him for his little laugh just now, but she didn’t have the nerve. Or the energy. And her back hurt. A lot. She tried to twist, but a searing pain blazed through her shoulder. “Pierce? Something’s wrong.”

“Shh, now you lose faith? It’s like you said, I’m a doctor. I take care of people and I’m going to take care of you, just as I have been from the moment we met.”

Then something glinted in the sunlight. Something clear and bright all at the same time. A vial? No, a needle. And more she couldn’t figure, because Pierce slid it beneath her skin, and her throbbing head went away.