Tailspin(108)

“I’m lucky the fingers are still attached. So, if someone who doesn’t have a badge comes asking after us, lie your ass off. Don’t challenge a thing they say. You’re as dumb as dirt, as innocent as the day you were born, you never heard of us.”

“What happens when you get to Knoxville?”

“As far as you’re concerned? Nothing. I fly your plane back. It should take only a few hours to cover the round trip.” He took a breath. “Look, Jake, any other time, I wouldn’t ask a stranger—”

“I’m a stranger to you; you’re no stranger to me.”

Rye chuffed a bitter laugh. “About that legend stuff, I’m not the guy you think I am, not the man you heard stories about, most of which were barracks bullshit. The hero doesn’t exist. Never did. But I swear I can fly the plane, and I’ll return it to you in one piece, not a scratch on it.”

“I’m not worried about the plane. It’s the two of you. The thought of cutthroats being after you—”

Rye interrupted. “If you’re feeling any hesitation, say no. Don’t do it.”

“I’m not saying no. I only wish you’d let me help more.”

“The help we need is the use of your plane.”

Jake turned to Brynn. “Life or death, you said.”

“Yes. And time is running out.”

He looked at Rye. “Another rescue?”

Rye hesitated, then said, “Something like that.”

“You always did volunteer for the most dangerous missions. And that’s not barracks bullshit. It’s a matter of record.”

Rye didn’t say anything to that.

“You’ve got my plane,” Jake said.

Rye reached across the console. “Thank you.”

As they shook hands, the other pilot gave a dry laugh. “Don’t thank me. I just flew in from KC. Have you looked at the radar?”

8:28 a.m.



Jake rented hangar space at an FBO twenty miles west of Atlanta. It was controlled, but Rye would be the only pilot flying in or out any time soon.

When the three of them came in, dripping rainwater, two corporate jet pilots waiting out the weather were sprawled in armchairs in front of a TV, watching a football game being played someplace where the sun was shining. The woman at the desk was engrossed in a paperback novel.

Brynn and Rye stayed in the background while Jake explained to her their determination to take off, despite the weather. Brynn overheard the words “Family medical emergency” and “may be their last chance to say goodbye.”

Rye filed his flight plan. He and Jake put the plane through its preflight check. Because of the rain, Jake arranged for them to board inside the hangar and have the plane towed out.

When all was ready, Brynn hugged Jake goodbye. “You’re doing a tremendous service. Some day I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Good luck with your patient.”

Rye thanked him again, but issued a final word of warning. “Remember what I told you. If anyone comes around asking, cover your ass.”

Jake slapped him on the shoulder and wished them a safe flight.

On their taxi, rain bombarded the windshield. Poised at the end of the runway, Rye reached over and squeezed Brynn just above her knee. She jumped. He smiled over her startled reaction and spoke above the engine noise. “Scared?”

She shook her head.

“Liar.”

He’d noticed her white-knuckling the edge of the copilot’s seat. Although the cockpit view of the elements was intimidating, she preferred sitting beside Rye to being in one of the four passenger seats behind the cockpit.

Solemnly, Rye looked directly into her eyes. “Brynn. This is what I do.”

His confidence calmed her. “I wouldn’t be here with any other pilot.”

He held her stare, then verbally acknowledged the clearance he’d received in his headset.

She recalled what he’d told her last night in the bar about the anticipation he felt before each takeoff. I still can’t wait.

When he gave it the throttle, she experienced the same level of exhilaration.

9:12 a.m.



Goliad would rather have taken another drubbing than return to the Hunts’ mansion with nothing to show for his efforts except failure.

The housekeeper admitted him into the house. “They’ve been waiting for you to show up. They’re having breakfast. I’ll tell them you’re here.”

Dispassionately, she asked if he would like an ice pack for his nose. It was swollen and red and, unless he underwent corrective surgery, would probably be permanently misshapen. But he declined the ice pack. Swelling nose and eyes were the least of his worries as he made his way to the sitting room of the master suite, where private meetings were customarily conducted.

He didn’t have to wait long before Richard strode in, Delores close behind. She was immaculately dressed, perfectly groomed, but, as during any high-stakes situation, the air around her seemed to crackle with her unique brand of energy.

The senator walked straight up to Goliad, his expression demanding. “I gave your disappearing act the benefit of the doubt. I told Delores to relax, that you must be hot on the trail of Dr. O’Neal. But here you are, and no doctor.”

“I located her, but she managed to get away.”