Authors: Billie Jones
Mexican Kimono (24 page)
In the distance, a bright-yellow chopper sits on the Tarmac, like a huge dragonfly. I hoist my backpack over my shoulder and head towards the helicopter. Time for me to switch on. The pilot gives me a half-hearted wave as I jump aboard. He’s tanned to a leathery brown and has huge biceps fighting the fabric of his flimsy T-shirt; good to know I’ve got some muscle behind me if we get into trouble up in the air.
I hold out my hand. “I’m Kez, nice to meet you.”
He ignores my proffered hand and looks over my shoulder.
I turn too, and see nothing but the gleam from the damn designer bags.
“Lost something?” I ask.
“Where is everyone else?” he says, frowning.
“Everyone else?”
His jaw clenches. “Yes, your team?”
“My team are on other missions. Why? I’m here for recon, and then I’ll call in if I need support.”
He rubs two fingers over his moustache hair. He looks like a Magnum, P.I. wannabe. “Do you even know what you’re up against?”
Here we go, I get this a lot. Because I’m female. Obviously in the eyes of some men I can’t wrestle newts, or take down blue-tongue lizards, because I’m a moderately attractive woman, and extremely athletic to boot.
Hands on hips and using my most authoritative voice, I say, “Look, I’m on a time limit here. Can we get going?”
He sits down and massages his moustache again. Really, we don’t have time for this.
“I’ll take you, but if I see anything resembling a typhoon, I’m turning back,” he says in a very surly way.
The weather is unseasonably wintery for summer, I admit. But I think someone’s a tad on the delusional side. I know full well we don’t get typhoons in Australia, and feel confident that if he keeps fingering his moustache so lovingly he might fall asleep and I’ll get a chance to fly a chopper without the hassle of having to pay for the privilege. With an almighty grunt I pull the door down and lock it into place.
The chopper rotor blades start, the drum beat whooshing sound excites me as we make our way into the drizzly silver sky. Drops of rain suicide on the windscreen with a splat, and the throb of the engine sounds almost like a backing riff of a theme song, something to galvanise me for the battle ahead.
I stoop low in the small cabin and rush to the passenger seat. “Right, it’s go time.”
CARINA™
ISBN: 9781474007726
Mexican Kimono
Copyright © 2014 Rebecca Raisin
Published in Great Britain (2014)
by Carina, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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