Authors: K C Blake
“Why didn’t you have a choice?
Are you working for someone, or is it the microchip making you do this?”
“There is no bloody microchip in my HEAD!”
He did a violent, crazy dance, swatting at his own face and messing up his clothes.
He really had lost his mind.
She cringed as the gun swung in her direction again.
In his present state he could squeeze the trigger without meaning to.
“Damn you to hell, Madison Grey!
You can go join your father there.”
He shoved a folded handkerchief into her mouth before she could say another word.
He bent over suddenly and kissed her hard on the forehead.
“For old time’s sake,” he said.
Then he was gone.
He’d left her alone in a plane with a bomb.
The DeMarco she had known wouldn’t do a thing like that, at least not to her.
But did she know him?
Her memories of DeMarco were fading, growing hazy as if they had been whispers of a dream.
And
Tyler
still hadn’t looked in on her.
She had no idea how much time she had left to live.
DeMarco had stuffed her mouth with the hankie, but he hadn’t tied up both her hands.
She simply removed the thing.
She parted her lips to scream.
Breath gathered in her chest, gearing up for a loud one.
She hesitated.
What if the bomb was about to go off?
She didn’t want to call
Tyler
inside and have him die too.
Even though she thought he was too close to the plane to live didn’t mean it was true.
She had no idea what kind of bomb DeMarco had used.
It could be on a remote with him somewhere nearby, finger hovering over the button.
Or it could be on a timer set to go off at any second.
It could even be a dud.
The question of calling for
Tyler
or not became mute when he boarded the plane on his own.
His smile froze instantly.
His eyes immediately went to the handcuff on her wrist.
He pulled a gun from the back of his pants, and her eyes widened.
Where had he gotten that?
He looked around.
“There’s a bomb,”
Madison
blurted out.
“And DeMarco’s alive, but he’s gone now.”
“DeMarco?”
He shook his head.
“Never mind.
You can explain that one later.
We’ve got to get you out of here.”
“No.
We don’t know where the bomb is or what kind of bomb we’re dealing with or how many minutes we have left.
You have to get out of here.
One of us needs to live long enough to make them pay.”
Tyler
glanced at the gun, then at the handcuffs as if he wanted to shoot the thing off her wrist.
But that would be dangerous.
He seemed to reach the same conclusion.
He set his gun down and examined the metal around her wrist up close, turning it this way and that.
“Now is not the time to make the supreme sacrifice.
I’m not leaving you to die.”
She opened her mouth to argue with him.
Then she shut it firmly.
She hadn’t really expected him to abandon her to her fate.
The man had been a Navy SEAL, brave and honorable to the end.
She couldn’t fault him for the same beliefs she held.
In all honesty she wouldn’t walk away either if their positions were reversed.
Before she could ask him what he was going to do, his cell phone rang.
Tyler
actually took the time to answer it.
He told her, “It’s Brett.”
Of course it was.
She rolled her eyes.
A bomb was about to blow them both into tiny pieces and he was going to chat with his Navy buddy.
She strained to hear both sides of the conversation as
Tyler
held the phone with one hand and tested how tight the handcuff was with the other.
She heard Brett say, “We’ve got a problem.”
“Tell me about it,”
Tyler
said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“No, better yet, tell
Madison
.
I’m in the middle of something.”
“This is important,” Brett’s voice rose even higher.
“I’m on a plane with a bomb, Brett, and I think it’s about to go off.
Talk to
Madison
.”
Tyler
tossed the phone to her lap.
He dug deep into one of his jean pockets and came out with a small packet of silver tools.
His set was better than hers.
Selecting one, he went to work on the metal cuff holding her in place.
Using her free hand she lifted the phone to her ear.
“Go ahead.
What’s the big emergency?”
There was a long sigh followed by a lengthy pause.
Whatever it was, Brett didn’t want to confide in her.
He finally said, “My sources tell me that Tony DeMarco is alive and he’s working for the other side.”
“Old news,” she said.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
“No.
I’ve also got his phone records.
He’s made a lot of calls to Rico Boracci’s estate in the last few months.”
Boracci?
No,
Madison
thought, he had been talking to Roxie.
She was almost a hundred percent positive of that.
The two of them were working together.
One question remained.
Was DeMarco helping Roxie of his own free will or did he have a chip in his brain making him do it?
Tyler
yanked the handcuff off her wrist.
He grabbed both her arms, hauled her to her feet, and pulled her after him.
Seconds seemed to go on for hours.
Her heart pounded in protest within the confines of her chest.
She held her breath, sure the plane would explode around them at any moment.
They made it to the door.
Tyler
raced down the long flight of stairs in a headlong rush with
Madison
right behind him.
They ran as fast as they could, dashing in a straight line.
Her legs pumped fast inside the stolen trousers.
Getting away from the plane, that was her only goal at the moment.
They sped across the tarmac, legs and arms swinging.
The plane exploded over her shoulder.
A deafening roar filled her ears.
The blast knocked
Madison
off her feet.
Her arms swung like a windmill gone crazy.
She flew through the air, landing hard enough to push every ounce of air from her lungs.
She rolled until she felt the soft grass beneath her.
Landing flat on her back,
Madison
gazed up at the pale blue sky even as burning debris fell around her.
Tyler
crawled over to her.
He collapsed beside her, his hand on her arm.
“Next time,” he gasped, “we take the bus.”
She smiled in-spite of the danger, or perhaps because of it.
Adrenaline rushed through her body.
Tyler
grinned at her.
They were alive.
He leaned over her, ready to kiss the breath out of her.
From far away she heard the annoying sound of Brett’s voice as he screamed, “Hey, is anybody there?
Are you alive?
What the hell’s going on?
Answer me!”
The phone was still in her hand.
She pushed it at
Tyler
.
Brett could tell
Tyler
what he’d told her.
At the moment her ears were ringing and she felt bruised from head to toe.
By the time she sat up, she was going to have her options lined in a neat little row.
Someone was going to pay for trying to kill her.
Her only problem was deciding who to go after first.
She was ready to take out the bad guys.
Madison
rolled onto her side and watched what was left of the plane burn.
Hair fell over half her face.
She saw the pilot running toward them, wanting to help.
No doubt he’d already called the fire department.
The police would come too.
To avoid being hauled in for questioning, she and
Tyler
were going to have to hit the road and fast.
******
Within the hour, Madison and Tyler walked across an empty casino floor.
It was too early in the morning for the serious gamblers.
A few tourists entered through the glass doors, and a couple of casino employees went about their work as if no one was around.
Madison and Tyler had borrowed the stunned pilot’s car, leaving him to deal with the police.
Hopefully he would keep his mouth shut about them.
Madison
sat on a stool, pushed a quarter into the one-arm bandit, and pulled the lever.
She stared at the rolling pictures as if fascinated.
When they stopped, she gave up another quarter.
Tyler
sighed.
“What now?
We can’t just sit here and feed these things all day.”
“Your father knew we were getting on that plane.
Anyone else?
Did you tell your friend Brett?”
“What are you getting at?”
He glared at her.
“Don’t assume the bomb was planted by someone I trust.
We could have been followed.
Anyway it was your pal DeMarco who actually planted the thing.”
“Well, I think my
pal
might be working with someone you think is on your side.”
He didn’t have anything to say about that.
The pictures stopped spinning and a few quarters dropped into the tray.
She’d won.
The loud sound jarred her already sensitive head.
She worked on giving them back to the machine, one at a time.
Even with a load of crap on her mind she could see how gambling could become addictive.
“Brett told me DeMarco has been calling Boracci’s estate day and night,” she said.
“Of course that doesn’t mean he was talking to Boracci.
We still don’t know who’s behind everything, although my money is on Roxie.”
“We need to find out before their aim and timing improves.”
“What do you suggest?” she asked.
“I’m open to anything that will speed things along.”
He turned on his stool, plucked a quarter from her tray, and fed the machine in front of him.
“Well, we can say the hell with it and fly down to
Rio
.”
He winked at her.
“I know a beautiful little secluded beach down there.
If we put our heads together, considering all of our training, we could keep the authorities at bay forever.”
He pulled the metal arm down.
“Or we can attack the bad guys one by one and beat the truth out of them.”
“Or trick them into telling us,” she said.
“Whatever works.”
His head tilted to the side the way a dog looks at a person when they make a strange noise.
“Your choice.
We’ll do whatever you decide.”
Sure, put it all on her.
“
Rio
sounds really nice,” she admitted.
“Maybe we can go after we clear my name.”
He nodded.
“Sounds good.”
“But first I need to check my father’s house for clues.”
She put the last quarter into the machine and gave the lever a final pull.
When the pictures stopped rolling, none of them matched.
She hoped it wasn’t an omen of things to come.
“Later maybe we can go to Boracci’s.
I want to have a long talk with him without interruptions.
Do you think you can keep his security team busy?”