In Enemy Hands (18 page)

“That was some pregnancy. She was almost two years overdue.” Dante frowned down at his hands and said, “You didn’t check any of it out, did you?”

Sanders sighed. “No.”

“Why? We go way back, Sanders. I thought I could count on you to be straight with me.”

“Vandergriff gave me a lot of money, Dante. A lot of it. He’d heard about you … everybody’s heard about you. He wanted you for the job and was afraid you wouldn’t take it. He swore to me that you wouldn’t get hurt. And the girl—”

“To hell with her, right?” Dante replied and rubbed his forehead.

“You don’t understand,” Sanders pleaded. “I was thinking of Frannie. You know she’s in her first semester of law school. It’s put a real drain on our savings. She was working all night and trying to keep up with her studies during the day … the money came in handy.”

“Oh, I understand all right. I understand that you were willing to sacrifice a girl about the same age as Frannie for money.”

“Vandergriff said he wasn’t going to hurt her. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone. I thought she was his daughter-”

“You’re not the man I thought you were, Sanders. Collect your last check and pray you never see me again.”

Dante clicked the phone shut and rubbed his face with his hands. The throb of his headache had grown steadily worse as he talked to Sanders. Nobody had principles anymore.

“Dante,” Ronnie said hesitantly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you. And called you all those names.”

Dante shot him a rueful grin. “Yeah, you should’ve. Hit me, I mean. And you only called me one name.”

“You were unconscious when he got to the really good ones.” Nick leaned back and gave him a tired smile, leaving Dante surprised by the first glimmer of humor he’d seen in the man. “Oh.”

Ronnie gave Dante a sheepish look. “So, you didn’t hear that about your mama and a billy goat?”

“No.” Dante slung a big arm across Ronnie’s shoulders. “But I’m listening now if you care to repeat it.”

“Did I say that?” Ronnie gave him a nervous grin. “I think maybe it was Waynie. So, don’t shoot me or bench press me or anything.”

Dante cracked his knuckles. “If this plan doesn’t work, you have permission to shoot me.”

The cabin fell silent, each man lost in his own thoughts and worries. Nick’s phone sat in the seat beside him. They all stared at it, willing it to ring.

Nadia glanced at Peterson when he came back from the cockpit. He smiled and resumed his seat beside her.

“We’re going to be landing soon. Have to make a fuel stop.”

“Stretch our legs?” Nadia asked hopefully.

“Sorry, hon. We aren’t allowed to let you off the plane. I need to do a few things in the hanger—talk to a couple of guys—but I was thinking maybe I could sneak you something back in.”

“An Uzi? A grenade?”

Peterson’s smile faltered, and he ruffled her hair. She could tell the situation was beginning to bother him.

“Well, I was thinking more along the lines of a candy bar, a soft drink-something like that.”

Nadia forced a smile. “That would be great.”

“Any kind in particular?”

“Nah.” She stretched her arms over her head and winced at the ache in her shoulder. “I’m not hard to get along with.”

Peterson studied her, his eyes serious. “No, you’re not.” He chewed on his thumbnail and studied her. “Nadia, what do you think Vandergriff has in mind? What’s he going to do with you?”

“Who knows?” She shrugged and blew a piece of hair out of her eyes. “Last count I had, he was threatening to make me bear him an heir.”

“What?” Peterson looked at her in disbelief. “He said actually said that? It’s like a line in a bad movie.”

Nadia rubbed the back of her neck and yawned. “You’re telling me. Hapless heroine forced to bear the child of Satan. It’s been done already.”

Peterson chuckled.

She shook her head, wishing dearly for a cigarette. “All joking aside, he’ll do anything to hurt my mother and father. The easiest way to get to them is through me. I think it’s like a challenge to him now. He ruined my mother’s face and that didn’t do it. Then—”

“He did what?” Peterson interrupted. “What did you say about your mother? You haven’t told me about any of this.”

Nadia stretched out her legs. “She was in the hospital, right after she gave birth to me. Some goon dressed like an orderly walked into her room and threw acid in her face. She has all these scars, on one side of her face …”

Peterson blanched.

“But it didn’t work. He thought if he destroyed her beauty, he could destroy their love, but what they have isn’t just physical. It’s deeper, and my father is a better man than that. He doesn’t seem to see the scars and my mother loves him all the more for it. Vandergriff may have forced them to live their lives behind gates and security systems, but he’s never been able to tear them apart.”

Peterson sighed and sat back in the chair, lacing his hands behind his head. “I really have to find a new line of work. I thought security would be exciting, but not as cutthroat as my old job.”

“Which was what?”

“IRS auditor.”

“Good grief, I’m in worse shape than I thought,” Nadia said, and rolled her eyes.

Peterson smiled and patted her hand. “You know I can’t help you. Vandergriff would only kill us both.”

“It’s okay,” Nadia said, and meant it. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need his help. She didn’t want him harmed because of her.

Peterson looked troubled. He shot a glance at the cockpit. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you.”

“I know. But you do need to find a new employer. You’re too good of a guy to work for a sociopath like Vandergriff. Your buddy, Cahill, on the other hand …” She nodded toward the cockpit.

“He is
not
my buddy,” Peterson declared, and she smiled.

“Whatever. Don’t leave me alone with him too long, okay?”

“You don’t have to worry about him. I’ve already told him what I’d do with that #2 pencil of his if he messed with you.”

“My hero,” Nadia said and closed her eyes. She found herself thinking of Dante. Wondering where he was and if he was anywhere close to her.

How was it possible that she’d just met him?

Time felt eerily skewed, drawn out. A lifetime since she’d approached him in that diner. A lifetime since the night in the garden. She glanced at her watch.

Oops. Slipping into day three. Time had somehow divided itself into two distinct sectors. The time before Dante and the time after.

“Get a grip,” she muttered.

Nadia Branson had never mooned over anyone and it was a little disconcerting to be doing so now.

“What?” Peterson asked.

He clutched the armrest while they bumped along the runway. Apparently Cahill’s landing abilities were as questionable as his personality.

“Nothing. Talking to myself. It’s a sign of caffeine depravation. Chocolate, man. Bring me something chocolate.”

“Will do. In the meantime, why don’t you try to get some rest?”

“What, and turn my back on an IRS auditor and a pencil wielding sadist?” Nadia teased. Her eyes widened and she slapped her forehead. “Oh, wait. Isn’t that the same thing?”

Peterson snorted and opened his palm to reveal a handful of shiny silver quarters. “Not very smart, my girl. You really shouldn’t be so rude to the man with the vending machine plan.”

“I’m sorry.” Nadia struggled to look contrite. “That kind of thing just slips out. It’s a short circuit in my brain, I swear.”

She glanced out the window. The terrain outside looked almost deserted in the dusky shadows. No lights in the distance. No buildings that she could see. Just her luck. It was probably a private airstrip.

“Hey, Peterson …” She nudged him with her foot. “Where are we, anyhow? I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

“Actually, Dorothy, that’s exactly where we are.” Peterson unfastened his belt. He stretched and stood when the plane stopped coasting.

Nadia glanced over her shoulder when Cahill came out of the cockpit. Peterson mistook the look on her face for fear.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said quietly. “He knows better than to hurt you. That’s not only my order, it’s Vandergriff’s too.”

Nadia nodded, but she wasn’t afraid of Cahill. In fact, she would almost welcome the chance to be alone with him.

She could take him out.

Peterson disembarked after sharing a few hushed words with Cahill. Nadia watched Cahill slide the door to the cockpit shut and lock it, then he turned his flat reptilian gaze on her.

“I’ve got to step off for a few minutes too,” he said. “I thought I’d better warn you, though … don’t try anything cute. There are armed men all over this hanger, and we all have the same signature on our paychecks.”

Nadia bit off a smart remark, realizing that it would cause her more trouble than it was worth. Instead, she pasted on a smile. “No problem here. I think I’m going to try to catch a nap.”

She curled up on the seat without waiting for a reply and heard Cahill grunt. Closing her eyes, she waited until she heard his footsteps echo down the ramp before she dared to take out the phone.

Still curled on the seat, she pressed in the number and tucked the phone behind the ear she was resting on. Her hair fell over her face, hopefully providing some camouflage should Cahill decide to check on her. Her father answered on the first ring.

Nick Branson covered the mouthpiece and cursed. He looked at Dante. “They’re in Kansas already. How close are we?”

“Not close enough,” he replied. “But we’re gaining on them. Let me talk to her.”

Resignation shone in Nick’s eyes when he handed Dante the phone. They both knew that Dante’s plan was the only shot they had.

“Hey, princess,” Dante said.

“Hey, yourself, Superman. That was some exit back there. You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Dante laughed. It was so good to hear her voice. “I try,” he said. “Do you know what kind of plane you’re on?”

“Some little piece of junk DeHaviland. A Super Otter. You can’t miss us. The thing is school bus yellow.”

Dante’s hopes surged. “How many people are on the plane?”

“Two guys. The pilot and a guard.”

“Can you take the guard out?”

After a brief pause, she said, “Yes.”

He didn’t like that hesitation. “You have to be absolutely sure, Nadia. Can you do it or not?”

“Yes, but the pilot said Vandergriff’s men are all over the ground here.”

“We’re not going to move on you there. We’re not close enough yet. Do you see the emergency door?”

“Hmmm, the one with the big red E-X-I-T over it?”

“That’s the one.” Dante grinned. “Now, do you see the locking handle?”

“Yes.”

“Think you can open that?”

“Yes.”

“Can you jump out of an airplane?”

“I’ve done it before, but Dante, there are no parachutes in here. Cahill made sure to tell me that.”

“You’re not going to need one.”

She paused. Then, in a funny, squeaky voice she asked, “Did you land on your head when you fell off that balcony?”

“I’ll catch you.”

“You’ll catch me,” Nadia repeated slowly. “Are you out of your ever lovin’ mind?”

Dante glanced at Nick and snickered. Covering the mouthpiece, he said, “Oh, yeah. She is definitely your daughter.”

Nick made a face and Dante smiled into the phone. “We can do it, Nadia. I’m a jumpmaster. You didn’t have a problem jumping from that bridge, and you said you’ve jumped from a plane before, right?”

“At 12,000 feet with an instructor strapped to me. I think there’s somewhat of a difference there.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she said instantly.

“Then what’s the problem … are you chicken?”

Dante winced at the obscenities that remark inspired, but it had its desired effect.

“Okay. But how will I know when it’s time to jump?”

“Set the phone on vibrating mode. When we’re close enough, I’ll call you.”

“Oh, no. Now, that’s real smart, Dante. What if your mother calls, or some floozy you run with, wanting to know when you’ll be back in town? I’d be like Wile E. Coyote flapping around out there.”

“You didn’t let me finish. We’ll have a code. I’ll let it ring twice, three different times. How’s that?”