Page 18 of Final Approach

“I’ll be keeping this.” My assertion brokered no arguments, glaring blurrily at the point where Detective Diaz’s soul should be. He sneered at me with a lip well-practiced in sneering, but it was much tamer than the flash of hatred a moment before. He remained silent, his lack of a weapon shrinking his bravado.

Turning my gaze back to Ambrose sporting a bloodied lip, I softened my delivery. If he was brave enough to stop an armed man, we could use him for whatever came next. I respected the honor behind his actions, but trust had to be earned. And I certainly didn’t like the way he spoke to the Captain.

“Ambrose, thank you for protecting our safety, but please refrain from making accusations to the one woman who is actively trying to save your life — all our lives — at this moment. I, for one, would like to see what my chances are off of this plane.”

The man’s brows scrunched in thought, and his glare morphed into resigned contemplation. Finally, he nodded, although he offered no apology to Marley.

“We need to get him out of here.” Marley announced, turning our attention back to the prisoner cuffed to the seat. “He’s not safe, and we’re responsible for him, too.” She sought out Detective Diaz’s stony gaze, which seemed to relax, if only for a fraction, for her. “Please uncuff him from the chair, Detective Diaz. He will need his hands and feet to get off the plane safely.”

“No.” The prisoner — Maddox Torres’s — single word declaration was announced like the command of a king. Forceful, yet casual. A man used to being in charge, not unlike my father.

Marley turned the man. “Sir, we need to get you off the plane. Whatever your crime is, I’m not willing to let you die here.”

Maddox turned his head, and even from this distance and limited eyesight, the thunderous expression held visceral hatred — but it was not directed at Marley. The loathing bitterness is his stare was a laser trained on Detective Diaz.

“This detective” — he spat the title — “has been drugging me for days. Do not trust him.” The clear, ice-blue eyes changed direction to our spitfire leader, blinking out the hatred all together to become earnest, convincingly sincere. “Please uncuff me, Captain. I will not be a problem for you or your crew. But I make no promises for him.”

Like a snake dilating its eyes, hatred filled his gaze again as he jutted his jaw towards Diaz in visible challenge.

So, stay on his good side. Noted.

And drugging him? The man absolutely looked a little knackered when he entered the plane, but I had limited experience with the temperaments of handcuffed prisoners and had just assumed he was simply a little deranged. I hadn’t considered drugs, given he had a police escort, but the glaze in his eyes was familiar. Perhaps a little too familiar.

“This man is a psychopath,” Detective Diaz argued when Marley looked toward him expectantly, hand outstretched for the cuffs. “You’re believing a criminal over an agent?”

Moving forward to murmur in Marley’s ear from behind, I lowered my voice. “I might be able to vouch for this — he was bleary-eyed and quite numb when he got on the plane. I hadn’t made the connection, but it would be hard to take drugs with hands and feet cuffed, I would think.”

She stiffened and her spine straightened into a taut bowstring. She unleashed the arrow right into Detective Diaz’s pompous sneer.

“I think you are missing the part where we just crashed into the jungle,” Marley snapped, her tone sharp. She’d finally reached the end of her patience. “We’re alive now, but we might not even make it until nightfall. Do you get it? We need to get off this fucking plane.”

And we needed to speed it up. The sparks overhead continued to fly and the cloying smoke was getting thicker. I needed my vodka, and my glasses, in that order.

Drawing the gun and cartridge out of my pockets, I casually placed a single bullet into the chamber, making a show as I did so. “I’d suggest you do it, mate. Or we will have to leave you here.”

I didn’t need to take aim. My words met their intended target. With a snarl ravenous wolves would envy, Detective Dick stomped over to Torres and produced a silver key from his pocket, uncuffing his feet first.

“Okay,” Marley declared as Diaz continued to uncuff the man’s hands. “Ambrose, please assist these two off the plane. Nikki and I will grab the emergency kits and be close behind.”

Despite my warring urges, I remained at the front until Detective Diaz and Torres had been successfully lowered. Only then did I turn heel to the rear of the cabin. Miraculously, my cache of liquor remained intact in the small bag I had siphoned from the plane stash. My glasses had not been so lucky. The frame had bent with a horizontal crack through the entirety of one lens.

I molded the plastic frame back into place and placed the glasses on the bridge of my nose. The cracked right lens crackled everything in front of me into a shattered kaleidoscope, but I would manage.

Popping off the top of one of the bottles, I downed the mickey in a single series of gulps. A wave of relief washed through my veins and set my blood ablaze. Finally.

Along with my newly acquired gun, my pocket also held a tin of mints – my subterfuge. I tossed two in my mouth, knowing I’d have to ration the remainder, and secured the tin with my bottles of liquid courage.

The new and improved Nikki wouldn’t need them. They were simply a safety blanket, nothing more.

I hastily shoved the stash safely into my pack that had also survived within its metal compartment, and grabbed the bulky first aid box attached to the wall by my seat. The fire extinguisher also remained, held by a metal anchor on the opposite wall. I released it and carried the two around the corner to find Marley pleading with the sole living passenger aboard.

“Please,” she begged in Portuguese, kneeling at the woman’s feet, her face genuinely distraught as she attempted to coax the woman off of the plane. “You’ll die here. Let us help you.”

A fresh wash of tears flooded the younger woman’s face, a vehement shake of her head denying the offer of safety.

“Let’s give her a moment.” I fumbled with my heavy load to place a gentle hand on Marley’s shoulder. Reluctantly, she nodded, then stood and moved to the front of the plane.

She turned to stare into my eyes—the first time I’d been captured in her gaze since she’d woken me out of my stupor. The brilliant green—like a jungle forest, ironically——was red-rimmed and imploring. She dipped her head toward the cockpit, where the metal door had been bent sideways, as if the sandwich cart had barreled through it.