Nikki Logan - Her Amazing Boss! - The Daredevil Tycoon

“How far away are you?” Rafael asked.

“We are tracking you by GPS now, but we haven’t seen you in a while. I’d say you’ve picked up some speed with the storm front.”

Rafe looked over the side, studying the ground. Hilly, no open meadows, and rocky in some places. He could set down if he needed, but the lack of roads made it highly unlikely his chase team would find them anytime soon. It had taken them hours last night. He’d rather set down near civilization.

“We’re heading north-northwest. Anything on the map in that direction where we can put down near a town?”

“Checking.”

Amalia watched with wide eyes. Rafael winked at her to keep her off balance. The last thing he needed was for a scared young woman to hamper the flight. She’d done well so far, despite her phobia about heights. He hoped she could hang on a bit longer.

If he were flying with Manuel or Maria, he’d be exhilarating in the speed, in racing the wind. The sky was clear ahead, there were no towns or airline flight paths or obstacles to hamper them. But if the storm came faster than the wind pushed them, he’d have to put down, rugged terrain or not. Trees or not. Amalia’s safety would come first. And second, the safety of his balloon.

But he wasn’t conceding yet.

“If you keep on your course, there are some plateau lands in a few miles. But no paved roads lead to them and from your GPS position, you’re about twenty miles west of us. There might be some sheep herders in the area. I don’t know. We will keep on this direction. If you change directions, send the signal as arranged.”

“Roger that. I’ll let you know.”

“What is an arranged signal?” Amalia asked when Rafael put the radio down.

“Every half hour. Saves batteries, and they’ll be monitoring at the exact times.”

“And that works? Did we do that last night?”

“No, I’ve never have had to use it. Don’t plan to today, either.”

Rafael could tell from the shadow racing across the landscape they were moving faster than before. Once or twice the balloon faltered, indicating traverse winds. He wasn’t sure whether to rise or go lower to find steady winds. One last look around convinced him he was ahead on this leg of the trip.

Carefully watching the balloon, Rafael kept busy trying to gauge the speed and pressure on the envelope. Amalia was proving to be more help than he’d expected. She kept the balloon elevated. The wind spun them around again and she gave a short gasp, but didn’t desert her duty station.

She did look at him with those wide eyes, questioning silently.

“We’ll look for a place to set down,” he said at last. Watching in the direction they appeared to be going he searched for any open area. Snagging the balloon on tall trees on the way down could render it inoperable. Something he refused to do. There were several more days left on this flight and he planned to make the farthest distance when the week ended. He radioed his plans to the ground crew.

Amalia jumped. “Oh, lightning,” she said.

He looked behind him. The storm was still miles away, but another flash of lightning demonstrated the strength and danger coming.

“We’ll start dropping now,” he said into the radio. “Find us.” He tossed the radio down and turned to Amalia. “Don’t fire the burners unless I tell you to.”

Glancing behind him from time to time, he knew he was ahead of the rain. He wanted to be on the ground and erect some kind of shelter before the full force of the storm hit. They could not afford to get the envelope wet. It would take a day or more to dry out and that would definitely put them out of the running.

Amalia didn’t say a word. She watched his every move. He wished he could reassure her, but only being safely on the ground would do that.

The basket swayed more strongly than before. He heard Amalia’s gasp but was too intent on getting them down to do anything more than tell her to hold on and be ready to start the jets if he wanted more lift.

The balloon spun around, the basket swinging with the momentum. Even Rafael was having trouble holding his balance. The last sway had knocked Amalia off her feet. She scrambled up and held on to the frame, looking over the edge, her face white.

The gusts were stronger the lower he went.

“Are we going to crash?” Amalia asked.

“No.”

And, surprisingly enough, they didn’t. He reached a large plateau, pulled the emergency release cord and told Amalia to be ready to jump off the basket when he gave the word. “And take one of the ropes with you. I’ll follow and pull on the other.”

The basket hit hard, the balloon almost puddling over them as it continued its waffling in the wind as it collapsed with lack of hot air.

Amalia jumped off and looked for something to tie the rope to. Rafael was beside her in a second, pulling on another rope. It was windy. Amalia could feel stinging from the sand particles in the air as the wind swept across the rocky plateau. The basket tugged against the rope. There didn’t appear to be anything handy to anchor the rope.

Rafael strained against the pull even as Amalia ran a few steps to keep the rope from being pulled from her hands. She got a better grip and leaned back, throwing her entire weight against the pull of the wind.

The envelope settled into an uneven lump, ruffled by the wind, but no longer driven by it. The pull eased. Amalia was breathing hard, but held fast.

“Good going,” Rafael called. He studied the terrain, and then moved to the left a bit, trying his rope to an outcropping of rock. Not a very substantial one, from Amalia’s viewpoint, but she trusted Rafael knew what he was doing.

He crossed quickly to her side, taking the rope from her hands. He found another rock and made it fast.

“Let’s do what we can before the rain comes,” he said, already moving to the balloon. Before long he had it stretched out, flapping in the wind, but in the wind’s direction, with the basket as anchor. He began folding it, first lengthways, then when it was as wide as the basket, began rolling it toward it.

As soon as Amalia realized what he was doing she went to help, keeping a wary eye on the clouds massing behind them. Before they’d finished, the first drops of rain began to fall.

“We’ll turn the basket on the side, floor to the storm’s direction and huddle inside to keep dry,” Rafael said, using one of the lines to fasten the balloon, scrambling for the plastic tarp and stretching it over the balloon. He stood and looked around. There was no shelter in sight.

“Help me tip the basket on its side, it’ll afford some shelter.”

Once that was done, he sent Amalia to sit in it, while he double-checked the jets and then found a large rock and dug a shallow trench around the covered balloon.

In seconds he joined her in the makeshift shelter, the one side away from the wind open to the elements. The rest was cozy and so far dry.

“If the storm gets very bad, the wicker will leak,” he said.

“But we stay with the balloon,” she said.

“It’s the best way for the crew to find us,” he explained.

“How will they know where to look for us?”

“They’ll find us.”

They sat and waited.

“Is there a road to this plateau?” she asked.

“I saw a dirt one not too far away. Every half hour we’ll use the radio and see if we can raise them. They’ll get here, sooner or later.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I think you liked our ride down,” she mused.

He laughed, flinging an arm across her shoulders. “It’s exhilarating, man against nature—especially when man wins this round. I didn’t expect the storm to come so quickly or to be caught without adequate shelter, to be honest. But we’ll manage.”