I Hear Voices (13 page)

Should I try it out? An evil grin curved my mouth. Why the hell not? With a flick of my wrist, I threw it and the knife impaled itself nicely in the far seat. Grinning, I stepped over Dixon and doing as much damage as I could, I yanked the knife out of the very expensive Corinthian leather seat.

Okay, I’m a bitch, sue me.

I tapped Dixon on the shoulder. “You don’t mind if I keep the knife, do ya?”

The big, bad biker began to snore like a grizzly bear in heat.

“No? Gosh, I’ll treasure it always.” I dropped the knife in the purse along with the cuffs.

Now all I had to do was commandeer the aircraft. Hiding the gun behind my back, I let out a blood curdling scream and shrieked, “Help! Please help me.”

The cockpit door remained firmly closed.

Well, hell, guess Dixon had a lot of screaming women on his airplane. What a surprise. Stripping down to my underwear, I tucked the gun in my waistband.

I took a step and it fell out, smacking the lecherous biker in the head. “Oh Crap! Sorry.”

Dixon didn’t even grunt, he just kept on snoring.

Picking up the gun, I stuffed it in the back of my panties, walked over to the cockpit door and banged frantically. “Please! I think he had a heart attack.”

The door was immediately flung open. The pilot took one look at Dixon and pulled a Glock from a side holster. His creepy, hot-eyed gaze roved over me and settled on my clunky orthopedic shoes.

I giggled madly. “He thinks old lady shoes are sexy.”

The pilot snorted. “What happened?”

Letting the tears roll down my cheeks, I did my best hysterical, ditzy female act. “We were just getting to the good part. And… And he grabbed his chest and collapsed. I think it’s a heart attack. My dad died from something called the widow maker and I can’t do that again. I mean, I really, really hate funerals. Can you help him? I think we need to get him to a hospital. Should I call —?”

The pilot gave me a suspicious look, bent down and checked Dixon’s pulse. “I don’t think it’s a heart attack.”

“Really?” I kicked him hard in the face. His head snapped back and he slumped to the floor, stunned. “Me either.” Quickly cuffing the men together, I retrieved the Glock and backed away as Dixon moaned and thrashed around. Omigod! He shouldn’t be waking up this fast.

The pilot erupted to his feet and took a swing at me. His fist missed me by a good foot as he was jerked backwards by two hundred pounds of dead weight.

“You fucking bitch,” the pilot yelled, lunging wildly at me. His face red with effort, he tried to pull Dixon’s limp body down the aisle, but his legs kept getting caught on the seats.

“Ya know, if you break the boss’s legs, he’s gonna be pissed.”

“There’s nowhere for you to run, you fucking cunt. Get these cuffs off me now and I might let you live!”

I pointed the Glock at him. “Is that nice? I think you should apologize. I’d really hate to have to shoot ya.”

He bared his teeth in a snarl. “What did you do to the boss?”

“He wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I put him to sleep.”

“He’s gonna fucking kill ya.”

“Doubtful. I have something he wants.”

He surveyed me from head to toe and sneered.

“He gets all the pussy he needs. You ain’t that special, bitch.”

“Oh, but I am.” Keeping the gun trained on him, I grabbed my jumpsuit and purse.

“You’re fucking nuts.”

I shrugged. “Some people think I am. Can’t imagine where they get that idea from. Oh, by the way, I need to borrow your airplane for a bit.”

Alarm flared in his eyes. “Have you ever flown a Bombardier Learjet before?”

“Nope but how hard can it be?” At his horrified expression, I hurriedly shut and locked the cockpit door.

The pilot shouted some very creative profanities.

That man really needed his mouth washed out.

I quickly dressed and climbed into the pilot’s chair.

“Ouch!” I had forgotten the stupid gun. I wriggled, jiggled and shimmied frantically until the gun slid down my leg and clunked to the floor. I

dumped it in my purse, sat down and tried to ignore the pilot’s vulgar threats.

One look at the control console and I groaned.

Complicated didn’t even begin to describe it. This wasn’t the friggin’ space shuttle and did I really need all this crap?

Good thing Uncle Aldo insisted on me getting a pilot’s license. I was instrument rated but I hadn’t finished my multi-engine course yet. On the bright side, I had managed to get twenty hours of flight simulator training on the Learjet. The downside was it had been over a year ago and my memory was a bit spotty.

Panic knotted my stomach. If I could just find the flight manual, I might be able to land this bird without crashing. I quickly checked the storage compartments. Shit, nothing but porn magazines, condoms and a bottle of expensive whiskey. Maybe if I asked the pilot nicely, he would agree to help me.

The cockpit door shuddered from a massive blow. “Let me in, you fucking bitch!”

Nope, that option was definitely out.

“Granny Annabel I need your help!”

Still wearing her flight attendant’s outfit, she materialized in the co-pilot’s chair and looked around in alarm. “Are you sure this is a wise move?

You crashed in your flight simulator training.”

The cockpit door shook violently.

I wasn’t the best pilot in the world but there was no need for her to rub it in. “It was either hijack the airplane or become a member of the mile high club.”

Granny wrapped cold, slightly slimy fingers around my arm. “You must lose your virginity or you will die.”

Horror roiled my stomach. “My God, Aunt Sophie actually plans on sacrificing me?”

“Asmoday gave her a week to bring you to him.”

“That explains the million dollar bounty. What happens if she fails?”

“She dies.”

“Then we make sure she fails.”

“Perhaps it is best if you allow Dixon to make love to you. He is hung like a stallion.”

I rolled my eyes. “I thought the fates had decreed Derek was the one and only for me?”

Gangster’s Paradise suddenly blared from my purse. Was this someone’s idea of a joke? Cuz the Valley of the Shadow of Death was looming large in my future. I reached in and pulled out my cell phone. “Hello?”

Derek’s voice was a gravelly growl. “Did he touch you?”

My pride shredded, I snapped, “Dixon’s quite the lover and you know what? He doesn’t give a rat’s ass about my inexperience.”

“Don’t play games with me, Angel.” The cold menace in his voice sent a chill down my back.

“Is this some kind of territorial shit? Cuz I don’t belong to you.”

“You’re mine until I say otherwise.”

Say what?! “I think your tiny little brain got fried when they tased you.”

Sloan roared, “Did he touch you?”

Omigod! He was dead serious. Where in the hell had this possessiveness come from? He’d made it pretty damned clear, he didn’t want me. Maybe he was afraid Dixon would beat him to the gold. Would he actually kill his cousin for the treasure? Did I want to be responsible for him hurting or killing his cousin? No, I didn’t. “He kissed me. No big deal, okay?”

“That’s it?” Was there a trace of relief in his voice?

“Yeah and why do you care? I have virgin cooties, remember?”

“Put him on the phone,” Derek snarled.

“Sorry, I can’t. He’s taking a nap.” I disconnected.

Gangster Paradise sounded again . I let it ring.

“Derek is quite an accomplished pilot,” Granny announced.

“Why am I not surprised?” I answered the phone, “You a fly boy, sugar?”

The cockpit door shook violently. “You’re a dead woman. Do ya hear me?”

Derek demanded, “Who is that?”

“The pilot. He’s a bit angry at being locked out of the cockpit.”

“My God, you commandeered the aircraft!?”

“Surprised?”

“You don’t know how to fly a Learjet.”

“True, but how hard can it be?”

His voice was a low growl. “Angel.”

“I have a pilot’s license.”

“For a single engine Cessna.”

My temper flared and I snapped, “I’ve had over twenty hours of simulator training on the Learjet and I only crashed once.”

“Not funny.”

Granny Annabel warned, “He’s trying to pry the door open.”

“Sic ’em, Granny.”

She vanished and ten seconds later the pilot started shrieking, “Stay away from me. Oh God! Oh God! Stay away. What are you?”

“I am death,” Granny answered in a monstrous voice.

There was a loud thump and the screaming stopped.

Derek inquired grimly, “Did she kill him?”

“If he had a bad heart, maybe, but mostly likely he just fainted. Granny can morph into some pretty damned scary creatures. Believe me I know.

Every time I had a date with someone she consider unsuitable, she’d pop in and scare the living bejeesus out of them.”

“Good to know. Let’s get this bird on the ground. I need you to input these coordinates into the navigation system.”

“Hold on.” I looked over the console. Where the heck was the navigation system?

“It’s on your left,” Derek, the mind reader, said.

“Oh! Right. It’s been awhile.”

A very anxious Granny appeared in the co-pilot’s seat. “Dixon’s awake.”

“What! He can’t be.”

The cockpit door crashed open to reveal a woozy Dixon. He dropped the handcuffs in my lap.

“The next time you cuff someone, sweetheart, you need to make sure they don’t have the key.”

I gulped at the rage simmering in his gray eyes.

“I’m not apologizing. I have the right to defend myself.”

“Do you now? We’ll discuss your punishment later.” He sat down in the co-pilot’s chair, right on top of Granny and held out his hand. “Give me the phone.”

Granny Annabel materialized on his lap. “You will not harm my granddaughter.”

Dixon stared at her for a long moment. “Lady, I’ll do whatever I want. Now get the fuck off my lap.”

Granny let out an indignant huff and vanished.

Color me surprised. She hadn’t even tried to freeze his nuts off. Oh wait. He needed them to service me.

“The phone,” Dixon commanded.

I handed it to him.

“Her price just went up to a million dollars,”

Dixon said calmly before disconnecting. “I want my gun and knife back.”

When I hesitated, he roared, “Now!”

“I have them in my purse.”

“Give me your fucking purse.”

“Yes, sir.” I quickly gave it to him, watching warily as he reclaimed his property and the Glock.

Granny hovered anxiously in the doorway.

His voice a purr of menace, Dixon added, “You’re payin’ for ripping up my seat, too.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dixon disengaged the auto pilot and put the aircraft into a sharp dive.

As I watched the altimeter drop rapidly from twenty thousand feet to two thousand, I noticed Dixon’s eyelids were drooping. “Dixon? You awake?”

His head dropped to his chest. “Dixon!?”

The jet rolled over and plunged towards the jagged mountains below.

“Holy Mary Mother of God!” I grabbed the yoke and pulled back. “C’mon. C’mon.” The jet leveled out, barely missing the mountain top. “Granny where’s my cell phone?”

“In his lap.” The cell phone levitated up and over to me.

Using one hand, I flipped it open and pushed last call.

Derek demanded, “What happened?”

“Dixon went back to sleep.”

“What did you drug him with?”

“Hydroxyzene HCL.”

“You continually surprise me, Angel.”

Thud! Feathers exploded across the windshield.

“Fuck! A duck!”

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Splat!

Feathers and blood flew in every direction and the cockpit window cracked badly.

“Omigod! It’ a flock of geese!”

The control panel suddenly lit up with warning lights.

“Shit! I have a fire in engine two.”

“Shut off the Gen/Bat Master switch,” Derek calmly responded.

“Check. It’s off.”

“Shut off the fuel valve.”

“Off.”

“Shut off the fuel pump.”

I looked frantically at the console. “Shit!

Where’s the fuel pump control?”

“On your right.”

“Kay, done.”

“Cabin heat off.”

“Okay, it’s off,” I responded, flipping a switch.

“What’s your air speed?”

“ knots and dropping.”

“Get the nose down and increase your speed.”

“Copy, nose down.”

“Altitude?”

I took one look at how close the desert floor was and started hyperventilating. “Omigod!

Omigod!”

Derek barked, “Give me your fucking altitude.”

Okay, I was a little freaked out but that was no reason for him to be so nasty. “Four hundred feet.”

“Come about ten degrees north and you should see a highway,” Derek instructed.

I pushed on the left rudder and brought the jet around ten degrees. “Got it but there are too many cars to land.”

“I’m taking care of that.”

Several police cars, lights flashing raced down the highway. I was seriously impressed.

“Extend the flaps eight degrees.”

“Copy.” I pushed the lever to eight degrees.

“Air speed?”

“ knots.”

“You need to drop your airspeed to knots for landing.”

“Okay.”

“Wheels down.”

“Crap, where’s the freakin’ button?”

“On the center console,” Derek responded testily.

“Got it. Wheels down and locked.” The aircraft shuddered, groaned and flames licked at the windshield.

“Flaps at degrees.”

“Done.” I lined up with the roadway. A hysterical laugh escaped from me. I could see the freaked out faces of the drivers as they swerved wildly off the highway.

“Keep it together, Angel,” Derek snapped.

“Easy for you to say, you’re not thirty seconds away from being flamed broiled,” I snapped back.

Dixon shook his head and sat up. “Fuck a duck!”

“No, geese.”

The jet skimmed over the top of a semi-truck.

Derek demanded, “Are you in the glide slope?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Deploy spoilers.”