Page 37 of Deadly Ruck
The car skidded to a halt beside the plane, kicking up another storm of dust before they reached the tarmac.
I squeezed Dallas' hand and threw off my seatbelt; he did the same.
I was vaguely aware of Nyla rising and sprinting to the front of the aircraft, slipping between the curtain that separated the front from the back.
Together, Dallas and I charged the closest minion, grabbing him, one on either side. Hands on his shoulders, we slammed his head into the window behind him.
He let out a cry of pain and blinked, dazed from the blow. That was enough for us to grab his gun, which I took from Dallas' hesitant fingers.
Without thinking, I pressed the barrel of the gun against the man's forehead and pulled the trigger.
Time stopped.
They say you never forget your first kill. As long as I lived, I'd never forget the bang of the gun. The way it recoiled in my hand. I swear I felt the bullet leave the barrel and slam into bone and brain.
I saw the exact moment of impact. The exact moment he died. His eyes wide, he slumped down to the floor of the aircraft.
Time resumed.
Atlas punched another minion in the face before grabbing his weapon and shooting him in the heart.
Jay was wrestling with a third, the gun between them. Their hands swung wildly from one direction to the other, at times pointing at us, and others pointing away.
In the middle of this, Dallas ducked under their arms and threw himself, tackling the minion to the floor. They both landed with a grunt and Jay was forced to let go of the gun.
The minion pointed the weapon at Dallas' face and ground out, "Get the fuck off me."
Hands raised to either side, Dallas rolled and climbed to his feet. He stepped back while the henchmen rose.
"Put down your weapons," he minion ordered. He aimed the gun at me.
I quickly weighed up my options and knew Atlas was doing the same. Could we shoot him before he shot one of us?
"I said, put down your weapons," the henchmen growled.
"Jones won't be happy if you shoot his trophy," Atlas pointed out.
"I'll shoot you then." The henchmen turned his gun toward Atlas. "Put your weapons down."
Past him, I saw people climbing out of the cars. I immediately recognised my brother and the Brantley twins. How the hell did they know we were here? And Daisy LaSalle. Mina DiMarco and Gianni as well.
And…
I turned my head and stared. I must be dead, because I was seeing something impossible.
Storm, Frost and Ramsey were all headed to the side of the plane, guns in hand.
Alive.
I'd never seen anything more beautiful, or hotter, in my life.
"Looks like you didn't blow them up after all," Atlas said, nodding towards the window.
The tiny moment of distraction when the minion also turned to look was all I needed.
In a snap, I had the gun raised, aimed and fired. The bullet hit him square in the chest, throwing him back against the seat beside him.
We all ducked down between the seats, in legroom that would have been incredible on a commercial flight.
