Page 18 of Touchdown

“Yeah. I think I just changed my mind. They're packed pretty good. Nothing's broken. I guess there isn't much harm in holding onto them a while longer.”

He shrugged but the light in his eyes had gone inward. Or did I only think so because it was getting dark so fast?

“The gulls won't come at night anyway. And I might be getting an idea...”

“Oh, yeah?” Noah was looking far beyond me. “I hope it's an idea of how to get your pilot's license.”

That's when I heard it too.

The chop-chop-chop of helicopter blades.

So much for the cool plan of drawing in our enemy so we could steal their boat.

Chapter 12

Here's the problem. We were two naked men armed with some bedsheets, a couple of pillowcases, a backpack, an assortment of survival food and beverages, and, well, that's about it. With these meager supplies, we needed to take down an unknown number of unknown persons well-equipped enough to fly in at the perfect time to get the drop on us after dark.

In a college town, you get into the habit of classifying all criminals as burn-outs, basement dwellers, and losers. These dudes might get some ink and pretend to be in a gang, but they didn't have much going on that would intimidate a guy my size.

Professional criminals? Organized crime? Those guys weren't real, they were something you'd see on a screen.

But you didn't feel the damp through a screen. You didn't smell the salt of the sea.

This is happening.

For the first time—or at least the first time without memory blockers—I was going toe-to-toe with professional evildoers that I could see coming from miles away. I still didn't know who they were, but I could make some educated assumptions about what they were.

Mercenaries. Quasi-military. Criminals or terrorists, but high-level ones, the kind who had all the training and got to play with all the toys.

Should have known that all along. Amateur random nerds might try to invade our team's security system or mess with security and surveillance networks. But they never would have gotten this far with the NSA and the FBI on their tracks.

I did know that all along. I just didn't want to believe it.

The odds against us were daunting.

We had to assume they'd come with the full armaments package. Members of the criminal elite didn't pay attention to any local, national, or international laws that banned felons from the possession of dangerous firearms.

As if that wasn't enough to make our escape into a level 10 challenge, we didn't get to sail away on a pirate boat with a yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum.

Oh, hell no. That would be too fucking easy. I'd like to meet the boat I couldn't float. So no.

We had to figure out a way to take wing and fly away.

Did helicopters come with instruction manuals?

As I settled into my tree-top perch, I glanced over at Noah. Only inches away, he was now virtually invisible except as a dark shadow in a dark night.

“We might not have to fly anywhere,” he said. Uncanny how he picked up on what I was thinking. “If we could turn the tables on these dudes, lock them up in the house or, um, tie them up, then maybe all we have to do is break into the helicopter and SOS on its radio. Have somebody fly out to us to save our asses.”

“You're right,” I said. “Anyway, we have to tackle the game one play at a time. Before we worry about what we'll do with a helicopter, we have to get the helicopter.”

“We'll get it.”

We'll have to. There's no alternative.

Was that a leaf under my bare butt? I lifted a cheek an inch or two. If the adjustment allowed me to nudge into Noah, I didn't mind. And neither did he.

He'd suggested we get naked before we scramble up the tree.

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