Page 27 of Jace 4Ever
The stairs dropped down and I waved at Thomas. As soon as the mini gangway was down, I was up and inside the plane. I knew I could do part of the preflights to get them on the record, so I did. Anything the attendant would have to do. I checked the belts, the chairs, the bathrooms, and made sure the galley was stocked and locked for takeoff.
The whole time, I wondered what had happened to Uriah and the kids. Who would want to kidnap them? I could sort of see the kids, but I didn’t think they were in a vulnerable position.
“Major.”
I snapped up from where I was kicking the lock down on the dry goods container. I spun around and came face to face with Smoke Gillam.
“Captain.” I stuck my hand out to shake.
He grabbed it and pulled me in for a bro-hug. “I didn’t believe it until I was here. This is your plane, Nils. Congrats.”
“They didn’t even tell me you were coming.” I studied him a moment. “What are you doing here? And how do you know these guys?”
“They’re all sort of my best friends from college. I love hanging around with them. They’re a blast and I like being able to be the real me around them. A relief.”
“Do they know—”
“No, not at all.” His words cut through mine. “Please don’t tell them. They just kind of know me as mysterious. Are you coming along?”
“I am.” I gestured around. “My plane, my decision.”
“We’re going to have about ten people on this. Are you comfortable with a gun still?”
“You know I am,” I answered. “I handle all my own weapons and weapon stunts in the movies.”
“Excellent. I’m going to need someone comfortable,” he said. “Though apparently Chase and his boyfriend Marcus are also comfortable with them.”
“Excuse me?” came a call from the doorway.
We both turned to find out who was there. “Vincent!” Smoke crowed. “Come on up! Meet Nils—Nelson Powers.”
“Oh shit...” Vincent said. “Marcus wasn’t lying that this was your plane.”
“No, sir.” I held my hand out. “Pleasure. Come on in. Let’s get all this started before the rest of them arrive.”
“Not good,”I mumbled, pressing myself against the rotting clapboards of the house. Everything in this place was rotting. The buildings, the people, the machinery. Gerry—the father of the children in question—was done rotting and was now decomposing.
Anyone who would hold a gun to their own child’s head wasn’t worth spit.
The sound that had pushed me deep into the shadows, relying on my Army Ranger training, was the unique sound of complete mechanical failure. That meant there was no way the group could go back to the Suburbans we had hidden in the woods. Smoke had stressed we should steer them back that way unless it was impossible.
The explosion moved that directive to impossible.
They had to go out the front gate. I had to make sure the path was clear. I motioned the four men Smoke had assigned to me to move forward and flank the road. One of them was an undercover agent in the compound. He moved up to me. “Sir?”
“You know who are yours, who are just here for the cult life, and who the bad guys are.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“Make sure the bad ones don’t get out that gate. Hobble them.”
“Yessir,” he snapped. “And you?”
“I’m going to cover the main group.”
He held out his gun. “A better weapon for that.”
“I’m fine, Sergeant.” I patted the Desert Eagle .44 I was holding. “This baby and I go way back. I’m a surgeon with this.”
