Brain Storm (A Taylor Morrison Novel Book 1) (54 page)

“Is he dead?” Connors asked, scrambling across the floor, moving past us to check on Keith. I let him check, but I already knew the answer. I’d seen him take the blast, saw the life fade from his eyes. He’d been dead before he’d even hit the floor. He wasn’t coming back this time.

Noise from the galley drew our attention as one of Lars’ men appeared from around the corner, moving fast and low down the aisle to met us.

“We’ve got a visual from the hold you might want to see,” he informed Lars, glancing quickly to Keith and then Connors, before settling on me. “I’ll cover you from the rear.”

Lars stayed low, moving swiftly down the aisle. He was almost to the galley when a spray of bullets cut through the cabin. He dove to the floor and hugged it as another spray tore through the seats above his head.

“They have eyes,” the man next to me called out, pointing to the windows. He backed us up, pushing us into the doorway leading to the exit. The metallic smell of blood was heavy in the air, Keith’s body practically under our feet. I drug deep breaths in through my mouth and kept my eyes on Lars as fear and adrenaline pounded through my veins.
 

With only the bathroom behind us, there was no other option but to move down the aisle. I watched as Lars inched forward only to draw back as bullets tore through the floor in front of him. They were above us, probably on scaffolds, improving their vantage point with each passing second. It was only a matter of time before they had him.
 

Lars’ man pushed past me, dropped onto his belly and crawled the first few feet into the cabin as scrapes and noises came from outside the door behind us. He motioned us to follow him and moved forward another few feet. The bullets danced across the seats toward him, and his body jerked as they found their mark.
 

I scrambled forward, grabbed his feet and pulled, dragging him back into what little protection our area offered.
 

“He’s alive,” Connors said, checking his pulse, “but he won’t be for long. We need to get out of here.”
 

I took a breath, knowing he was right, knowing the only way was down the aisle. I stood up, intent on closing the shades and giving us some protection.
 

“No!” shouted Lars, the same time as Connors grabbed my leg.

“It’s all right, ” I assured him, trying to shake off Connors and the electrical impulses he was shooting up my leg. I looked over at windows, and picturing them in my mind, grabbed hold of the shades, and pulled. The noise reverberated through the plane, and I watched Lars eyes grow wide in wonder, as the windows slammed shut one after another.
 

“Okay,” he whispered quietly, nodding his head. “That works.

He was on his feet and running down the aisle, tossing me his gun.

“Go!” he hissed out. He grabbed the injured man and pulled him up over his shoulder falling into step behind us, as we ran for the galley.

The elevator was there waiting and I shoved Connors inside as Lars struggled around the corner. A shrill alarm suddenly pierced the air around us, freezing me in my tracks until I recognized it. A cell phone. It had to be Keith’s.
 

I turned around and ducking past Lars, ran for the phone. I slid to a stop beside Keith’s body, frantically patting him down, feeling time ticking away. I knew they’d move fast once the windows shades went down, blinding them to the inside. Finally, I found it and fumbled it out of his pocket, stumbling to my feet.
 

Lars was already halfway down the aisle and I tossed him the phone as I tore back up the aisle. The door to the plane blew as we rounded the corner into the galley. The debris cloud rolling through as Lars slammed the elevator and hit the button.

“Yes?” Lars snapped out as soon as he opened the phone and listened as the elevator dropped to the floor below. “He’s dead. This is Lars. We’re at the hangar under attack.”

The door opened and hands reached in to pull us out. Lars motioned for silence as they disabled the elevator behind us.
 

“I have the package. I need delivery.”

He listened and then snapped the phone shut, slipping it into his pocket, as he gave me a quick nod. He had information, but for now it would have to wait.

“Status,” Lars demanded and moved off as his men filled him in. Feet pounded through the floor over our heads, as they searched the plane for us and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before they figured out where we were. Within seconds, he was striding back toward me, issuing orders as he went.
 

“It’s Vivian,” Lars reported striding toward us, Connors having magically appeared at my side. “And she brought friends. Three in the plane, five in the hangar. Both exits are covered.” He pointed to the elevator and toward the back of the plane, where I assumed there was a loading door. “We have the element of surprise.”

“What about the man they just shot?” I asked, worried that his presence had given them away.

“She’s expecting the two guards from the warehouse to be here. She’ll assume it was one of them. We’re good.”

A dull thud issued from the open elevator. They were coming for us. Lars watched me, waiting for me to decide, his men restless behind him, drawing my attention. Jenny and injured man were no where in sight and I had to assume they were out of harm’s way.
 

Four men stood behind Lars, eager for the fight. I had no doubt they could handle what was about to come down the elevator shaft, but then what? We couldn’t fight the others, trapped in the hold of the plane and we’d have used up our ace in the hole.

“We can’t fight in here,” I whispered. He nodded agreement, his eyes on the elevator. I looked over at Connors. “They need to think nothings changed. That we’re still prisoners. You up for that?”

He nodded and Lars smiled. “We let them take us by the loading door. Get them to open it.” With a wave of his hand, the men disappeared into the darkness of the hold, leaving the three of us standing alone by the elevator.

“Lars,” I paused, waiting until he looked at me, needing to make sure he understood. “This needs to look real. They have to believe it.” His eyes moved to the cut on my face, the muscle in his jaw clenching tight before he finally nodded in agreement as the top of the elevator disintegrated in a shower of dust.

“Run!” I yelled to Connors, and pointed to the rear of the plane. We were already moving when the stun grenade dropped through the ceiling and rolled into the storage area.
 

“Shut your eyes,” Lars called as it blew, the noise deafening inside the contained space. I stumbled, disoriented and blind, the flash bright even behind my closed lids. I went down hard, and came up weaving like a drunk, Lars dragging me by the arm.
 

“Let me go!” I yelled, jerking my arm free, hearing the sound of pursuit close behind us.
 

“Move!” Lars shoved me and I stumbled forward, trying to focus.
 

We needed to make noise, wanted them to know where we were. The last thing I wanted them to do was search the hold looking for us and find Lars’ men hiding there.
 

“Stop!” The voice behind us rang out, a spurt of gunfire emphasizing the command. Lars grabbed me by the back of the neck and whirled around, dragging me like a rag doll to stand between them. I fought, grabbing at his hand and he crammed the end of his gun into my temple.
 

“Stay back or I kill her,” Lars threatened, his voice low and vicious, like some cornered animal.

The man jerked to a stop and held up a fist, stopping the other two men who were coming up fast behind him.

“All we want is the girl.” His voice anything but reassuring as he took a step forward.

If possible, Lars squeezed my neck tighter, dragging me back against him. My head was cocked at what seemed an impossible angle, and I dug at his hand, ignoring the gun.

“Everyone wants the girl,” he said giving me a shake. “I’m the one that has her.”

“So?” the man asked, taking another step forward.
 

“So, maybe I know something you don’t know. I want to negotiate.”

The man paused for a second, letting out an amused, dismissive snort. I held my breath, waiting, as he watched us, deciding our fate.

Suddenly he swung his gun to the left of me and I heard Connors quick intake of breath.
 

“Open the hatch,” the man ordered and within seconds, the hold lit up, as the loading door swung open.
 

“Go then.” The man jerked his head towards the opening. “Negotiate.”

FORTY-FOUR

LARS DROPPED ME out of the plane and I hit the ground hard, sprawling onto the concrete as he dropped down next to me and pulled me to my feet.

“Move,” he spat out, dragging me forward as Connors swung out of the plane and hurried to catch up. I looked up to see the others converging on us, Vivian in the lead, looking like the cat that had swallowed the canary.
 

I barely got a glimpse of the men as Lars drug me past them, but a glimpse was all I needed to send a chill down my spine. Dressed in dark suits and ties, they looked like they had just stepped out of the Federal Building, except for the automatic weapons they carried. What kind of guys drove around in Washington D.C., carrying illegal weapons, stun grenades and explosives? They blended in so well, you’d never notice them until it was too late. The thought went through my mind like lightning and I looked at Vivian in horror. What, in the name of heaven, had she done?

We reached the cars, and Lars jerked me around to face them, and forced me down on my knees, gun held to my head. The men shifted, uneasy, their eyes on the drama that was being played out in front of them.
 

“Let me go!” I twisted away from Lars, only to be slammed back into place. I stayed on my knees and looked around desperately for Connors. He was close by, covered by two men, guns at the ready. I saw the look of warning flash in his eyes, and smelling her perfume, turned to see Vivian standing before me.
 

“Why should I let you live?” she asked viciously, her voice almost unrecognizable. I looked up, surprised to see she was talking to Lars instead of me.
 

“You need me.” He pulled me up to my feet and shoved me stumbling, toward Connors. “I’m the only one that can handle her.”

“Really?” She walked over to me, and threw me a dismissive look “I handled her for years. Without your help. I can handle her now.”
 

“You can tell yourself that all you want Vivian, but it won’t make it true.” My voice was way calmer than I felt. “You’re deluding yourself.”
 

“You think so?” She pulled out her gun, a semi-automatic, and aimed it at Lars. “If she moves, shoot the doctor.”
 

She was standing right in front of me, so close I could have reached out and touched her, but I didn’t, knowing that the minute I did, they’d kill Connors. All I could see was the gun, my eyes focused on the release.

“Don’t do it, Vivian,” I warned her, praying that Lars’ men were out of the plane and in position, praying that Connors would survive this. She smiled at me, and looked me in the eyes, as she drew in a deep breath, preparing to fire. I saw her finger tighten on the trigger and let my mind slide down the gun grip, pressing the release as I went.

The bullet magazine dropped from the gun, and clattered onto the floor. For a split second time seemed to freeze, and then everything happened at once.
 

Vivian turned the gun toward me, and I spun, dodging a bullet that never came as Lars launched himself at her, sending them both rolling across the floor. I felt a blast of heat from behind me and whirled in time to see Connors reach out, knocking the two guards off their feet with just a touch of his hand. I barely had time to register that their clothes were actually smoking before the hangar erupted in a hail of gunfire and Connors grabbed me, pulling me to safety behind the limo.

The noise was deafening as the exchange of gunfire escalated, the acrid smell of gunpowder burning my nose and making my eyes water.
 

“Stay here,” I ordered Connors, making my way to the front of the limo when the gunfire abruptly stopped. It looked like a war zone, bodies scattered across the hangar floor, laying in pools of blood. Lars was on his feet and moving, searching the bodies and kicking weapons away as he went,
 
his men moving in rapidly from the perimeter. Vivian was still on the floor, where she’d gone down when Lars had hit her and was lying a few feet away, watching me.
 

“Cute trick with the gun, Taylor,” she groaned as she said it, obviously in pain.

I got up, scanning the area as I moved over to her, the feeling of danger still with me. “I like it. Comes in handy, sometimes.” I squatted down next to her. “What are you, Vivian? I’d hate to be accused of profiling, but you and your boys here don’t exactly look like Islamic terrorists.”

“There are others besides the al Qaeda or ISIS that you should fear.” She smirked as she said it. “Some you should fear more.”

“Maybe,” I said, as Connors came around the car to join me, “but you’re not one of them. Not anymore.”