Under His Protection

I threw myself backward, knowing that in order to save Jessica’s life – and my own – I had to abandon her.

Just for now.

“Leaving your bitch, are you?” Lorenzo chuckled, his voice a grating insult to every shred of decency inside me. “I imagine she expected more of you, Jason. But we know better than that, don’t we?”

My jaw clenched. “Fuck you, Lorenzo,” I growled, desperately searching the air bridge for a weapon – anything, really. “How the fuck did you get in here? It’s a fucking –.”

“Airport?” Don Lorenzo grinned.

I ground my teeth together and stayed quiet, crouching down behind the controls that ordinarily maneuvered the bridge to the airplane. Right now, they were all that stood in the way of me and a bullet from Don Lorenzo’s pistol.

I didn’t think that even he would be stupid enough to fire a weapon inside one of the most heavily secured locations in the state.

Then again, I didn’t think that the Don would be here at all! The second Jessica and I had made it through the magnetic security barriers, and stuck our luggage through the x-ray scanners, I’d relaxed for the first time in days – presuming I was safe.

“I know what you think of me, Jason,” he said as the man behind him leered at Jessica. “I know you think I’m a relic, a holdover from the past. Maybe I am. Hell, in this world of cybercrime and online fraud, good old-fashioned mob men like me probably don’t stand a chance…”

“Spit it out, Lorenzo,” I spat. “Get off your soapbox and tell me what you want.”

“It’s simple,” he replied. “I thought you would have figured it out by now. I want you and your bitch – dead.”

“What are you going to do, shoot us here?” I replied, glancing up and down. The way my heart was beating – and the adrenaline pumping in my veins – it felt like minutes must’ve passed, but I knew better. That was just the effects of fear compressing the timeline inside my head.

No, the truth no more than a few seconds had passed since Lorenzo and his men from my grasp.

“No,” Lorenzo said, shaking his head. He jerked his pistol at the door just to the left of him that led down to the runway. “Go –,” he growled at his men. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Jason!” Jessica yelled. “Don’t let them –!”

Crack!

The sound of a slap echoed around the small air bridge, drowning out the happy noise of children making their way down the corridor as the economy class passengers began to trundle their way towards the plane.

I pushed the knowledge of what had just happened out of my mind as I cast a quick glance backwards. I couldn’t see the line of the company passengers yet, but I knew we had only a matter of seconds.

Jessica fell silent, and as I turned back to look at her being dragged by her hair through the security door and down to the concrete 30 yards below, I saw a trickle of blood dripping from her mouth.

And then the door swung shut behind her, leaving just me and the Don.

The sight of this girl hurt – this girl I’d only known for days – filled me with rage. I charged forward, not even bothering to see where the Don was pointing his pistol.

“I’ll kill you, you rat fuck,” I spat.

The truth was, I knew better than to shout. All those years in the SEALs – and then as a hitman – he told me one thing. It’s a whole lot smarter to act cool when you’re about to do someone harm.

It scares the shit out of them.

And fear makes people do really stupid shit.

Like look backwards nervously at the door that just closed behind them.

Like send their bodyguards away from them, just to kidnap some chick.

Like take their eyes off a man who’s seen action in twenty countries across half a dozen continents.

I smashed into the Don with the force of a bull. I drove him forward against the wall of the air bridge, and force the air from his lungs. His pistol went skittering – somewhere, I don’t know where the hell, and I didn’t care.

I punched the Don in the throat.