Elizabeth Goddard - Treacherous Skies

Glancing at his brother, Connor drew in a breath. He’d spent months recuperating from his injuries after the crash, destroying the experimental plane he’d flown as a test pilot—another bird like this Learjet that cost in the millions.

Destroying his career and future.

Unlike the test plane, at least Connor had survived and all his body parts were in functioning order.

That was six months ago and it wasn’t long enough to minimize his trauma. Still, it was enough to keep him from making an extreme attempt to outmaneuver the fighter pilot to his left. Regardless, he was in no position to engage in a dogfight.

“Give me a minute to think,” he said.

“I’m not sure we’ve got a minute.”

“In order to intercept us like this they had to have departed farther down our route and watched for us from anywhere in the Yucatán Peninsula, Haiti or Cuba. Then climbed to the same altitude and flown in a holding pattern, waiting for us,” Connor said. “They had to know almost instantly that we’d taken this plane, and chosen this route.”

“But we’re too far into the Caribbean now and out of radar coverage,” Jake said.

Connor glanced Jake’s way. “GPS,” he said, simultaneously with his brother.

“So they installed GPS tracking, probably because they were afraid someone was going to take their plane.” Jake glared at Connor.

“As soon as we’re out of this, find the GPS device so we can’t be followed. Maybe it’s somewhere in the cockpit and easy to dismantle.”

“Who is this person, anyway?” Jake asked.

“Someone who wants this Learjet back,” Connor said. “Thought we’d already established that.”

“Just a guess, but seems to me we’ve picked a fight with someone who is powerful and dangerous.” Jake glanced behind him, but Maya remained in the cabin. “What should we do now, turn around?”

What had Connor gotten himself, gotten them, into? This was all too much and happening way too fast. “Are you kidding me? There’s no way I plan to turn this plane around.”

“Yes, I was kidding. But then again, what choice do we have?” Jake asked.

Connor couldn’t stand the defeat he heard in his brother’s voice. Incredulity raced through his veins, and he cut Jake a glance. “Like that’s any choice? They’d kill us on the spot. They kidnapped a woman, remember?”

When Troy had hired Connor to recover this Learjet, he told Connor that a reputable businessman had fallen behind on his payments and all Connor needed to do was fly the jet back.

You might want to consider using the element of surprise...

Troy’s words seemed to echo in the cockpit now. After everything that had happened, Connor understood the warning better, and he understood something else, as well—the man who had owned this Learjet was anything but reputable. Maya’s presence just upped the stakes, but maybe they could come out of this like heroes.

The fighter jet flew closer then thrust ahead of the Lear, flying in front of them in a dangerous pattern. Connor wasn’t impressed.

“Okay. I vote we call for help.” Jake emphasized the last three words. “Someone needs to know what’s going on.”

Connor shook his head, cautioning him.

“Like I said before, you get on the radio now and they might decide to destroy all the evidence.”

“They’re not going to shoot us out of the sky,” Maya said.

The sound of her smooth voice startled Connor. He hadn’t realized Maya had left her seat and now stood behind him. She knew more than she was admitting, just as he suspected. “How can you be sure?”

“I can’t. But I think the Learjet owner wants his plane back, and he won’t get that if he shoots it out of the sky.”

She didn’t make mention that he wanted her back, as well.

“They’re not going to follow us into U.S. airspace, either,” Connor said.

“There’s no need to. He already has people inside, and they’ll be waiting for us.”

The Skyhawk backed off and disappeared, and almost in unison, Connor and Jake released a long sigh. Connor looked over his shoulder. Maya had returned to the cabin.

“We need to change our passenger manifest before we land.” Connor stood to leave the cockpit.

Jake eyed him. “You’re full of bright ideas today. Just how do we do that midflight?”

“Figure it out and look for that GPS tracking device.” He didn’t have time for any of this. “I’m going to find out what Maya knows.”

Just who exactly were they dealing with? He swiped a hand down his face as he paused before stepping into the cabin, hardly believing what had happened. How could he get answers from Maya?

Reg would know how to do it. Connor grimaced. Why did he have to think about Reg right now? His older brother’s angry face filled his mind—the good son in the family with a successful career in the FBI. Connor didn’t want to think about Reg’s reaction should he find out what Connor had dragged Jake into.

He hadn’t spoken to his brother in two years. Always the failure, never the hero—Reg’s last words to him pounded against his already aching head. It didn’t look as though Connor was anywhere close to changing that, despite his efforts today.

He shoved his failures aside. He needed to remain focused and keep a positive outlook, but this little mission wasn’t looking nearly as advantageous as it had.

* * *

Maya searched the posh lavatory.

There...

Her pulse slowed a little. The men who’d taken her last night had crammed her bag into a small storage compartment. She still grappled with the fact that Roberto Hernandez had found her after over twenty years—and kidnapped her again. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to get her and because of that, she doubted she’d escape his claws this time. That fighter jet showed her just how determined he’d become.

But why now? What had happened to reignite his interest in her? She didn’t doubt that her father had everything to do with it. She dumped the contents of her purse, which seemed considerably lighter, on the counter. Lipstick, a small brush, mirror and breath mints spilled out.

But no wallet.

Her heart skipped an awkward rhythm. That meant no cash. No credit cards. No driver’s license. She dug inside the handwoven bamboo-and-satin bag. There. She felt something... Her hopes climbed.

Maya tugged out her passport. They’d taken her money but wanted her to be able to travel without raising questions. She stumbled from the lavatory, dropped into the rear seat, set her bag on the floor at her feet and pressed her passport against her chest.

Without this, she couldn’t even make it back into the country. She drew in a few calming breaths. If she could just walk off the plane, slide through customs and evade Roberto’s men somehow, then she’d have a chance to consider her next step.

Without her passport, avoiding more trouble would be impossible.

Still, she was reduced to walking through this crisis moment by moment, one day at a time. Everything hinged on what the pilot intended to do with her. She’d been kidnapped and stowed away on his plane. Yes. But he wasn’t involved with Roberto. That much she believed. Now to convince him to let her be.

She needed to handle this in her own way. She couldn’t lose control of her life again. How could she make him understand?

Maya stared out the window at the Caribbean Sea passing beneath them. Soon it would change to the Gulf of Mexico as they traveled to Miami on what had to be a ninety-minute, maybe two-hour, flight.

She had an hour, if that, to figure things out. How much could she share with him and still hold on to what little of her life was left?

She only had herself to blame for the mess she was left with—she should never have agreed to meet her father.