Page 37 of Touchdown

I couldn't lose those memories of Noah and me together. I just couldn't.

We needed to move now or never.

Except I couldn't. Even my fastest tackle would give the man a second or two to fire off a shot directly into Noah's kidney.

He'd already been tranked multiple times. What kind of damage was that doing to his body over time? Hell, what kind of damage could it do from even one shot aimed at the wrong place? Injecting directly into a kidney sounded like a potentially life-threatening event to me.

I had to delay and distract. Find a way to get that gun pointed away from Noah.

But all I could think of was the same ass-draggery that was already working so well. Not.

“Fuck man,” I said. “I hate to be uncooperative and all but I'm going to have to call bullshit on your pilot qualifications.”

“My qualifications aren't yours to question.” His grin was evil. The gun remained dug into Noah's back.

“I'm just saying. If I load these boys inside, what guarantee do I have that you won't take off in the rain and kill us all?”

“If you don't load these boys inside, what guarantee do you have that I won't leave you in pieces for the sharks? See, I'm just saying too.” His evil grin was a flash of white teeth in the drizzle and the dark.

“Your boss wouldn't be happy. It's obvious somebody wants us alive.”

“Maybe I'm not real happy with my boss right now. Look, I'm not going to debate with you anymore. Get these men on board, or you're going down.”

“I'm not asking for a debate. I'm telling you to listen. You need us alive. I know it, and you know it. Your threats only get you so far if I'm afraid of going up in a thunderstorm.”

“I don't need you conscious, though. If you insist on having a phobia, I've got your treatment right here.” At last, the rifle had swung my way again.

I'm getting to him.

“Trank us here, and that's four men you have to load into that chopper without any assistance. All I'm asking is that you wait out the storm.”

“And I'm telling you that I'm done with this...”

“Let me fly.” Noah spoke softly but calmly. “It's better if I fly. Then you can hold the gun and be confident that we're cooperating, and you don't have to deal with a bunch of knocked-out bodies you've got to drag on board on your own.”

There was a pause. Even the drizzle stopped for a moment.

Was that a brilliant idea? Or a terrible one? Either way, it was the only idea we had at the moment.

The goon glanced down at his weapon. The possessive look on his face said volumes. He never wanted to put it down. “You don't know where we're going, boy.”

“Do you? Or is the destination already programmed in?” If it was a shot in the dark, it was a good one.

The goon actually took a step back. His eyes flicked from weapon to chopper, from me to Noah. You could see the wheels turning.

Who are these kids? What do they know?

“I can fly,” Noah said. “It's safer for all of us. You too.”

“How do you figure?” Probably the goon wanted to win enough of our cooperation to get those men in the chopper, but he was listening.

“You fly, your mind is divided. Maybe the trank works on us, maybe it doesn't. We've been hit before. We might have a tolerance. What if one of us comes awake inflight? Probably we won't but if we do, then where are you?”

“I trank you again, that's where.”

“And who's flying the bird while you trank me again? And what if there's a struggle? While we're in the air? That kind of thing can really be dangerous. Especially over an ocean. In a storm.”

The goon grunted.

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