Page 111 of Protected from Reprisal
Acecouldtry to do it all himself—get the gun away from the hijacker, knock him out, restrain him, and get the explosives on the vest disarmed. But we have a much better chance of it working if we work together.
“How do you want to do this?” I ask softly.
The muscles in Ace’s jaw work. A scowl tugs at his features. “Shit, Yara?—”
“It’s better this way. You know it is. And I can do it.”
After a brief hesitation, he replies, “I know you can. I just… shit. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“I don’t want you near him, either. But I don’t think we have a choice.”
“Come on!” the hijacker shouts. He aims his gun at the flight attendant behind the drink cart. “Get up here! Now!”
Ace’s hand tightens on my arm. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He looks like he’s debating with himself, and he doesn’t like either option.
Well, crap. Neither do I. Attempt to take down a hijacker armed with a gun and explosives or sit back and do nothing, hoping he decides not to kill us? Neither seems particularly appealing.
“When he turns to go to the cockpit,” Ace whispers. “That’s when we move.” He looks unhappy but resigned. “I’ll take out his legs. You disarm him on the way down. Once we get him restrained, I’ll get to work on the bomb.”
My pulse jumps. Fear surges, but I swallow it back. “Okay.”
Ace turns to me. “I love you, Tink. With all my heart. Just in case?—”
“I know.” I can’t bear to hear him say the rest. “I love you, too.”
In the aisle, the flight attendant is slowly making her way towards the hijacker. She’s sobbing, which sucks for her, but has the unexpected benefit of masking any sound Ace and I might inadvertently make.
“Follow me,” Ace whispers. “In five.”
“Roger,” I reply, doing my best to shift into tactical mode. I have to think about this like an op from here on out. If I think about it as a regular person, just a woman on her way to spend Christmas with her boyfriend and his family, it’ll be too hard to focus. All I’ll think about is how much I have to lose.
How much weallhave to lose.
Once the flight attendant reaches the hijacker, he grabs her arm and jerks her against him. She whimpers as he turns andstarts dragging her towards the cockpit. Ace taps his finger on my arm, starting the countdown.
He taps a second time. A third.
The hijacker’s back is still to us.
The attendant stumbles, and he jerks her back to her feet.
Ace taps my arm a fourth time.
Taking a steadying breath to calm my nerves, I silently ask my parents to look out for us.
Just help us stop him,I plead.If you can. I’ll take any help you can give.
Ace taps my arm a fifth time.
It’s time.
He’s in the aisle seat, so he’s the first to get up. As soon as he hits the aisle, I hurry behind him.
Ace lifts his hand, signaling to hold. It’s not for me, this time. It’s telling the passengers to be quiet.
And thankfully, no one says anything. Maybe it’s his intimidating figure. Maybe it’s the air of command he carries everywhere. Maybe it’s something in his posture that says he was Spec Ops, and he knows what he’s doing.
That he’s their best chance at getting out of this.
