Third Half (23 page)

             
"You won't be alone.  Unless I miss my guess, I'll be flying
you to where they're keeping him."

             
Flying.  Her green eyes were wide as she stared down at Todd,
wondering if she should admit her phobia about flying. 

             
"They won't let me stay," he continued.  "I'll be expected to
complete the job, probably with Jack.  They'll have a new hostage."

             
"But then they can try to force me to talk," she said, forgetting
her previous fear.

             
"You?  Somehow I doubt anyone can force you to do
anything."  He smiled confidently.  "Besides, that's why you're going
to tell them that your sister has hidden the things they want, as a
precaution, and hasn't told you where they are.   That even I don't
know about it, because you don't trust me."

             
"But that's not what you planned.  You said we were going to
stick together."

             
"What are you talking about?"  Juanita asked sharply as she
approached them.  "Oh, I see our Mr. Marshal is doing much better
now.  Very good."

             
"Yes, but I'm quite busy.  I don't believe I'll be able to fly.  It's
good you made other arrangements."

             
"You'll fly, Mr. Marshal.  You will fly."  She smiled, secure in
her words.  "You see, now we have two people who you will want to
protect.  You will follow through with our plans."

             
"So you are just a little smarter than I am,"  Todd shrugged.  "I
suppose I'll have to do as you ask."

             
Liane watched the exchange.  It reminded her of a game of cat
and mouse.  But she couldn't figure out just who was the cat and who
was the mouse.  Nothing seemed to be going as planned, yet this man
seemed quite calm about everything.

             
Just then they heard the sound of a camouflage painted truck
pulling up outside.  Liane looked through the window and noticed a
faint brightness just entering the sky.  "It's almost light,"  she
whispered.  "At least you'll know where you're flying."

             
"And where to send back the calvary."  He winked not
bothering to explain that with the navigation equipment on the plane
he would know the location even in the dark.

             
Liane couldn't ask just what he meant by calvary, as the door
swung open and a man stepped inside.  She noted he was dressed in a
military fashion, yet ill-kept in many ways.  It took only a moment to
remember what the man seated next to her on the airplane had said. 
"Rebels."

             
"Sh-h-h,"  Todd warned.  "Careful not to know too much."

             
Juanita said something to the man in Spanish, then waited for
his reply.  He nodded, then stepped further into the hanger, looking
closely at Todd and Liane.  Then finally he spoke.

             
"Do you understand any of this?"  Liane asked Todd.  

             
"They're worried that I will be able to give away the location," 
Todd replied as he listened to the man laugh and speak again.  "But
he's telling her that he won't be letting me alone long enough."

             
"I hope you've accounted for that, too."

             
"I'll work on it," he said as the other two men approached
them.  "Here we go."

             
The men all pushed the plane out of the hanger while Juanita
held the rebel's machine gun.  Liane didn't doubt for a moment the
woman knew how to use it.  And she wasn't about to test her by trying
to escape. 

             
She tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat, reminding
herself this was the closest yet she had come to finding her brother.

             
Once outside Todd, the uniformed man, and Liane got into the
plane.  The plane was small, but had been stripped of all seats inside
but the two in the cockpit, making the rear all cargo space.

             
"Is this custom designed specially for you?"  Liane asked,
remembering the cargo they usually carried.  "How many crates of
artifacts have you and my brother smuggled out of here?"

             
"Just about enough,"  Todd replied.

             
"Enough for what?"  She was getting tired of the way he talked
around a subject.  "To quit?"    

             
"Some things are best unknown, M.C."

             
"Todd! I'm in this so far now, what difference will it make?"

             
He looked at her a moment, then shrugged.  "Enough to make
the trip back . . .with a shipment worth much more to these people
than artifacts.  Weapons."

             
"Weapons!"  she echoed, her eyes wide with astonishment. 
Her brother was not only a smuggler, but a gun runner, too!  She said
nothing more, needing the time to think over all the revelations she
had made.

             
Yet as they finally taxied down the runway, all thoughts were
pushed from her mind as she tightly closed her eyes. 
Hail Mary full
of Grace.
Her breathing quickened to the point of hyper-ventilating.

             
"M.C." She heard Todd's voice from beside her.  "Are you all
right?"

             
Did Jack ever mention my fear of flying to his partner?  Liane
swallowed hard trying to the get rid of the lump in her throat.  Slowly
she opened her eyes, wishing it was still total darkness outside instead
of growing light. 

             
She was lightheaded, but she forced a smile as she looked at
her companion.  "All right?  Of course, I'm all right," she lied, then
felt a slight twinge of guilt as she saw his worried expression. 

             
"You're white as a sheet," he said with concern.

             
You're an actress.  Dammit act! 
She stared into her
companion's dark brown eyes and tried to absorb some of his strength. 
She tried to think about other things, anything but flying.

             
She thought about the previous night when he had caught her
in the fading bubbles of her bath.  She remembered the way those dark
brown eyes had deepened with something other than anger when he
had looked down at her.

             
She was calmer now, but not necessarily under control, she
thought as her limbs began to tingle with a new feeling.

             
"That's more like it." She heard Todd laugh, and she couldn't
help but wonder if he was again trying to read her thoughts.  Or
worse, had succeeded.

I

             
The brightness of the sunlight reflected off the last of the
mountaintops they flew over.   Liane wasn't certain how long they had
been in the air, nor how much farther they would go.

             
The only one who could answer that was the soldier standing
just behind them, retaining his firm grip on his weapon.  He had said
little during their flight, simply telling Todd Marshal when to change
their direction.

             
Now she wondered if the pilot would remember the way they
had come, or if he would find a way to get help.  She looked at the
martially clad man behind them, summing up his strength and size. 
Even without the machine gun he would be a formidable opponent for
anyone.

             
Her eyes returned to the pilot.  He was tall and slim.  Still, she
was certain he, too, was a strong man.   But it would take more than
brute strength to get them out of this.  What were muscles against
bullets?

             
It would take a cunning mind, able to come up with a quick
plan.  So far, Todd seemed to be a man who had many plans, and
many surprises.   Back in the hanger, he had said he'd work on one for
this situation.  She wondered if he had come up with something.

             
She noticed as his hands now grasping the controls seemed to
tense.  Then she realized there was something different about the
sound of the plane's engine.

             
"What is it?"  she asked him, but as she spoke, she saw black
smoke coming from the engine.

             
"We have to go down," Todd said abruptly, then turned to the
man behind them.  "Do you understand?  Go back there and find
someplace to hang on."

             
The man didn't budge, yet by now they knew he understood
English.

             
Todd said something again in the man's own language.  The
soldier's reply was merely to push his gun toward Todd's back.

    
             
"So much for that."  Todd shrugged, then looked at Liane. 
"Hold on."

             
"What about him?" she asked.

             
"He says he doesn't trust me.  I'm to keep flying.   He says we
haven't much further."

             
"Will we make it?"  She croaked, forcing back her fear. 
"Todd!"

             
He looked at her somberly, then back at the man.   "M.C., do
you know what to do when a plane crashes?"

             
"Just what they tell you on TV shows."

             
"Well do it!"

             
"But what about him?"  she asked, momentarily forgetting her
fear, yet not knowing why she should be concerned for a man who
probably would just as easily kill them as he would help them.

             
"Let Macho man, here, find out what it's like to crash,"  Todd
said, but there wasn't time for more words.   Liane watched as the
jungle below seemed to get closer with each passing second.

             
She leaned forward, putting her arms over her head as she
pressed it against her knees.  The plane bumped and jerked, there was
a loud metal crunching sound like the plane was being ripped apart,
then a sudden jerk.  Something hard pounded onto her body.  Then
there was nothing.

I

             
When she awoke, the heavy weight was still on top of her. 
Breathing deeply, she slowly opened her eyes.  There was very little
light, but she could tell that she had slid forward seat and all, she
realized as she felt the strap still holding her in. She had somehow
been protected from hitting the instrument panel
–
maybe some sort of
air bag.  No, she quickly realized the padding between her and the
hard panel was heavy, and human.

             
"Oh God,"  she groaned as she realized what she felt was the
soldier.  "Todd!"  Unable to move, she let out a yell.  "Todd!" 
Hearing no reply she tried to push away from the body.

             
She heard a groan and tried to decipher whether it was the man
or coming from somewhere else.   "Todd!"  she called again, her chest
tightening with choking fear.

             
"Hang on a minute."  She heard Todd's voice. 

             
She felt herself and the seat being pulled back, then her
seatbelt released so quickly she slipped to the floor.  When she looked
up, hoping to see her rescuer, instead her eyes froze on the bloody
face and blank, bulging eyes of the soldier.  Worse she realized the
not only had the man's body protected her from slamming into the
instrument panel, but his body had also been pierced by the control
column.