Top Gun Tiger (Protection, Inc 7)

Her panic receded. She did know how to deal with this. Taking a deep breath, she managed to get control of the plane and pull it out of the dive. Compensating for the damaged wing, she sent the plane skimming over the jungle, back the way she’d come. After a few tense moments, she was able to relax. The plane might not be in the best of shape, but it should get them back.

“No pursuit,” Ethan reported as he peered back. “I think they might’ve had to go fetch the pilots, and by then we were out of sight.”

“Who were those people?” Destiny asked. “They didn’t look Indian.”

“They’re not,” Ethan replied. “I’m pretty sure they’re Apex.”

“What?” She groaned. “Them again! I thought we were done with them.”

“Not quite yet.” He quickly described what had happened to him and his team.

“Those bastards,” Destiny swore. “Don’t worry, Ethan, we’ll rescue your men before Apex can do anything to them. We’ll call in my team as soon as we get to the airport. I don’t want to risk it now. Apex is probably monitoring all frequencies, trying to figure out where we are.”

“Good plan.” He sounded more tired than relieved.

She glanced at him. He had his forearm pressed to his side, bracing it. She knew that position all too well. “Did you break some ribs?”

“Cracked, maybe. It’s no big deal. I’ll be fine once I tape them.”

She also knew the automatic dismissal of any injuries that weren’t literally incapacitating. He’d said he’d hit his head and been unconscious for a while after he fell into the river, so he must have a concussion too. Once they got to the airport, she’d radio Protection, Inc., then drag him to a doctor and have him looked over while they were waiting for her team to arrive.

“Any other injuries you haven’t bothered to mention?”

“Well, this, but you saw it already.” He held up his left hand. The fingertips were bloody and bruised. It looked incredibly painful.

“Did someone stomp on it?”

“Nah. Stuck a knife under my fingernails.”

Destiny saw red. “Who did that?”

“Some guy named Ayers. He was the leader of the group that ambushed my team.”

“I’ll kill him,” Destiny swore.

“My team, my hand. I get dibs.”

“That’s fair,” she said reluctantly. “Man, Ethan. You’ve really had a rough day.”

He chuckled. “It improved a lot once you showed up. Hey, how’d you know to come here?”

She was incredibly tempted to lie. If it hadn’t been for the extremely recent proof that she was absolutely terrible at it, and also for the fact that she couldn’t think of anything even remotely plausible, she would have. Instead, she confessed, “I know how weird this will sound, but I had a feeling you were in trouble, and I followed it here. I flew into India—”

“Is that where we are?”

“Yeah. I told my team I was going there on vacation. I didn’t bring any backup because I thought I was out of my mind.”

“Huh. Well, you were right. I’m glad you trusted yourself enough to come. Nothing like that ever happened before?”

She shook her head. “Not remotely. In fact—”

The engine sputtered, sounding like a car running low on fuel. Destiny checked the fuel gauge, and was baffled to see it reading almost empty.

“Can’t be,” she muttered to herself. “It should have enough for four more hours!”

Then, with a sickening lurch in the pit of her stomach, she realized that shrapnel from the wingtip must have pierced the fuel tank. They’d been losing fuel as they flew, but it had blended invisibly with the water vapor and exhaust, so she hadn’t noticed.

“Fuel tank’s hit,” she said. “I have to make an emergency landing. See anything flat?”