Zach saw Violet’s face slacken with horror. He followed her line of sight in time to see a quick glimpse of Beck’s profile before he disappeared from the window. Immediately, Zach walked to Violet.
“Come with me. Now.”
People looked at them, startled, but he took Violet’s arm and urged her to the opposite exit, which led to the area where his car was parked. He radioed Carter, stationed at the rear, and informed him about Beck.
“I don’t see him. There’s something going down on the tarmac. Gavin, you copy?”
“Ten-four. Tower reports a fire on one of the runways. Sending personnel.”
Zach’s nerves flooded with adrenaline. “It’s gotta be a diversion.”
The air erupted with the wail of distant sirens as the firefighters raced to respond.
Then there was the sound of gunfire. Energy roared through Zach in a tidal wave. Though everything in him wanted to run and back up his brother and Gavin, he knew what he had to do. He burst out into the hallway, hurrying Violet, Eddie following along. They’d exited through the side, staying as far away from Beck as possible.
The radio chatter proved that Noah was rolling to assist Carter and Gavin, bringing in more reinforcements as the runways were shut down. Zach was four feet past the exit doors when a baggage truck careened up to them, pulling a canvas-sided cart behind it, Beck at the wheel. Zach froze. Beck must have used his inside man, Jeb Leak, gotten access and set the whole diversion in motion.
Zach turned and reached for his weapon when a sharp blow to the skull sent him to the ground. His radio was yanked from his grasp, his gun stripped from his holster. Sparks exploded in his skull but he forced his eyes open to see a gun pressed to Violet’s temple by Xavier Beck. Eddie barked wildly, his leash tucked into the fist of Victor Jones, the one who’d hit him.
“Stupid dog. Quit your yapping.” Victor rolled Zach onto his stomach, looping a length of duct tape around his wrists. Zach fought, twisting his head to keep his sights on Violet, but Jones had the leverage and he felt the weight of a boot crushing into his spine.
Beck loomed above him. “Well, if it isn’t Officer Do Right. It’s time to go on a little trip.” Zach tried to roll over, but instead Jones yanked him by his bound wrists to his feet. Unzipping the canvas siding on the cart, he propelled him inside. The truck concealed their actions, the airport vehicle a perfect way to blend into the chaos.
“What should we do with the dog?” Jones said.
Beck snorted. “Shoot it. I hate dogs.”
“No,” Zach said, thrashing and kicking.
“Don’t kill the dog,” Violet said. He could hear her panicky breathing, but her voice was the calm tone honed from years of airline service. “If you shoot now, they’ll hear. You’ll have cops all over you.”
The seconds ticked by with Zach shouting and kicking, until Beck came into view, the gun pressed so hard to Violet’s head that he could see a red mark forming.
“If you continue to struggle, I will hurt her. You get me?”
Zach stopped, chest heaving, rage roaring like an inferno inside him. “If you hurt her, it will be the last thing you ever do.”
Beck laughed. “Big words, Do Right,” he said. “Move over and make room for your lady friend and the mutt.”
Jones forced Violet into the cart next to him and Eddie was tossed on Violet’s lap. She cradled the dog with trembling hands and worked to soothe him. Eddie whined and tried to get to Zach, but she held him.
Beck got behind the wheel. Victor climbed into the cart and partially zipped the canvas. Then he turned sideways with a gun aimed at them. “Make trouble and I start shooting,” he said. “It will get really messy, really fast.”
Zach stared him down. “Where are you taking us? You’ll never get off the runway. Cops are everywhere. You got a flying carpet or something?”
Eyeing him in the rearview mirror, Jones answered. “You guessed, Do Right. I didn’t think you had the smarts.” He pointed to the end of the farthest runway. “Got ourselves a private cargo plane. No frills, but very roomy. We’re leaving the country for a while until things cool down. We needed a little insurance policy to get away, what with all the cop activity you’ve brought down on us.”
Leaving the country. A death sentence for both of them, or worse. “Take me, then,” Zach said. “A cop for a hostage, not her. Let her go.”
“Oh, we will take you. And when we get close to our destination, we’ll toss you out, but she’s coming, too. Nice to have someone around who can cook and clean.”
Violet glared at him. “In your dreams.”
He laughed. “Kidding. You’re a witness, after all, so Beck says it will be a one-way trip for you, too.”
Zach yanked at the duct tape that bound his wrists behind him. His brothers had to have seen Beck’s vehicle speeding away. Were they right behind him?
“The airport is locked down. You won’t make it out of here.”
“No problem,” Jones said. “We’ll be aboard and in the air in minutes.”
In the air, cut off from any help. He could not let that happen.
As they sped toward a looming cargo plane, Zach nudged Violet with his knee. She jerked a look at him and he tried to wriggle his hands while Jones studied the tarmac through the partially unzipped canvas. She understood. Since Eddie created some concealment, she snaked one arm behind Zach. With her manicured fingernails, she scratched and probed until she found the edge of the duct tape. The truck was moving fast now, the cart bumping and shimmying. Violet kept focused, prying the tape up with agonizing slowness, but she had to stop every time Jones shot a glance at them.
In the distance, he heard sirens and hope surged inside him. His brothers were on their way with plenty of units. He just needed to get free and keep Violet safe until backup arrived. The cargo plane came into view. He could not figure out how Beck had gotten weapons past security and onto the runway.
He felt the tape loosen slightly and he could barely keep still. Eddie whined as a bump jarred him from Violet’s lap and sent him falling off. Violet stopped pulling at the tape and helped Eddie scramble into her protection again. Another few tugs and the tape loosened more, but she had to stop again as Beck braked to a standstill.
Beck came around and pulled Violet from the car while Jones did the same to Zach. He tied Eddie to the empty baggage cart. Eddie’s shrill baying was lost in the shriek of sirens. Jones shoved them both up the ramp and onto the plane. With a brutal push, he knocked them to their knees on the floor. All around them were stacks of furniture, tied down and secure, and all no doubt filled with hidden drugs.
Zach frantically worked at the duct tape, praying that Violet had weakened the bonds. The tape began to stretch, buying him precious inches to work his wrists back and forth. He ignored the pain and the warmth of the blood caused by the abrasion. A minute more was all he needed.
“Cops have figured out our diversion. They’re blocking the runway,” Jones shouted.
“Take them down,” Beck snapped. Jones started shooting. Bullets pounded toward the blockade of police cars, toward his brothers. Every muscle in Zach’s body was wire taut. Noah’s voice came out tinny and distorted over his public address channel.
“Xavier Beck, this is the NYPD. You are completely surrounded and there’s no way out. Hijack protocols are in place and this airport is locked down. Release your hostages immediately and order your pilot to cut the engines.”
Beck answered by firing his own weapon, too. Noah’s words were lost in the barrage of bullets.
“We’re taking off now,” Beck yelled to the pilot through the open cockpit door.
“Air traffic control has ordered me to turn off the engines,” the pilot answered, peeking out, sweat beading his forehead. “This isn’t worth what you’re paying me. This wasn’t what I signed on for.”
“If you power down,” Beck snarled, “I will shoot you right now and fly this plane myself.”
The pilot’s lips moved but he did not speak. “Mr. Beck, there is no way…even if we get in the air…”
Beck cut him off. “I have a boss to answer to who won’t settle for your death as a punishment. He’ll make sure everyone you ever loved dies, too, slowly and painfully. You get me?”
Gulping, the pilot nodded and turned back to the controls.
The plane rumbled as the pilot began to ready for takeoff. Jones braced himself against the wall and kept his gun trained on them while Beck supervised the pilot. Zach yanked at the duct tape, desperate now.
If they got off the ground, they would not survive. Violet turned a terrified gaze at him, the brown of her eyes clouded in disbelief. She trusted him to keep her safe, believed in him when he did not believe in himself. And he realized in that moment that his heart would not continue to beat if hers didn’t, that the cascade of confusing feelings he’d felt toward her had crystallized into one clear and shining reality: he loved her, adored her, and he was about to lose her.
The seconds ticked away as the plane began to roll down the runway.
* * *
Violet’s body shook from the vibrations of the plane and her own bone-deep fear. They were trapped in a nightmare. Beck was crazy to send the plane right into the police barricade and ignore what would have to be a massive response from Homeland Security to an airport breach. Hijacking protocols in the post 9-11 days were clear. Even if the plane somehow took off, it would be tracked until it landed and met with another mountain of security personnel. Beck was insane to think they would survive.
“Victor, listen,” she started. “Beck is crazy. He’ll get us all killed. You’ll never…”
“Close the hatch,” Beck shouted from the cockpit.
Jones jerked the gun at her. “You do it. Now.”
She was crouched against a crate, trying to keep her balance as the plane lurched over the tarmac. Zach faced her, on his knees. He gave her a wink. What did it mean? She thought about their childhood when such a look meant, “Keep my secret, Vi. I’m going to launch a surprise attack on my brothers.”
A surprise attack? No, her mind screamed. Jones could not miss at such a distance. Zach would be killed for sure. Then she saw Zach’s arm come loose from behind him and there was no more time to stall. She reached up as if to secure the hatch, but she pretended to stumble and fall with a dramatic scream thrown in for good measure.
As she’d hoped, Jones yanked a startled look at her just as Zach surged forward, a perfect football tackle that drove the air out of Jones’s stomach.
He hurtled back, smashing into a metal edge, stunning himself. Violet grabbed up a flashlight secured to the wall and swung it at Jones’s chin. The contact sent him toppling. His gun skittered across the floor and behind a table shrouded in blankets. He groaned and went still.
“Here,” Zach said, gesturing with his bound hands.
She quickly unfastened the tape.
“Find the gun,” Zach said, ripping the rest of the tape from his wrists. She darted toward the stacked furniture. The space was dark and she could not see the gun anywhere. Dropping to hands and knees, she felt along the grimy floor, fingers cold and shaking. Despair licked at her until she saw a corner of the weapon poking out from underneath a plastic-wrapped pallet.
“Got it,” she said, but as she reached for it, a roar of rage stopped her.
“Get up,” Beck boomed, emerging from the cockpit with murder in his eyes.
Their time had run out.