“Acknowledged.”
Eddie still had his pistol, but Taylor’s defensive position was secure. She’d be able to gun him down before he could get a shot.
“Over here!” Juan yelled to him. He was already beginning to feel light-headed.
Eddie crawled over, and Juan handed him the end of the strap he was holding.
“Hold on to this, and give me suppressing fire.”
Eddie nodded and stood up to fire, plugging the Bugatti with rounds to keep Taylor’s head down.
Juan jumped to his feet and sprinted to his target—the button to release the Bugatti’s retractable cargo restraints.
Taylor saw him come into her line of fire at the same time that Juan flipped up the cover and slammed the button. She had a clean view of Juan and, with a venomous leer, she drew her pistol to fire.
Juan shouted, “Tiny, pull up now!” He latched onto a handhold on the side of the bulkhead.
The A380 instantly went into a steep climb.
Taylor’s eyes went wide. She dropped the pistol and desperately tried to unwrap the strap that was knotted around her wrist.
She didn’t move fast enough. The Bugatti, freed from the bolts in the deck, rolled backward, yanking Taylor by the strap. She fell to the floor and futilely clawed at the metal plating as she was dragged by the accelerating sports car toward the yawning gap.
She let out a high-pitched scream as the car dropped out of the cargo hold and disappeared into the sky, taking her with it.
“Tiny,” Juan called out through his tunneling vision, “take us down.”
“Acknowledged.”
The plane nosed into a dive.
Juan staggered to the cargo door button and slapped his hand against it.
The door began to close. Juan slumped to the floor, breathing as slowly as he could. He saw that Eddie had already passed out by the Cadillac.
When the door was sealed, the air pressure in the cargo hold began to rise again. Within seconds, Juan was able to breathe normally. Eddie awoke, looked at Juan, and gave him a thumbs-up.
“You all right down there?” Tiny asked.
“We’re fine,” Juan said. “Natalie Taylor and the Bugatti are gone.”
“Both pilots are dead. We’re on our own now. I told air traffic control in Cyprus that the previous emergency called in by the pilots was a false alarm, so we won’t be returning to the island. Where should we go?”
“Find an out-of-the-way place for us to land near the Oregon,” Juan said. “I’m ready to get off this flying dinosaur.”
* * *
—
Tiny found an abandoned Egyptian air base on the Sinai Peninsula with a runway long enough for the A380 to land. It was miles from the nearest town. They would be far away by the time anyone came to investigate why Carlton’s private airliner had landed in the remote region.
Since the plane came with its own ground transportation, they decided to drive away in style. Tiny and Eddie stretched out in the backseat of the Cadillac while Linc piloted the car out of the cargo bay with Juan in the front passenger seat.
The sun and breeze put them all in a better mood as the Caddy sped down the desert highway. They’d even helped themselves to some of the food and beverages from the A380’s galley for a post-mission snack.
While everyone else ate and drank, Juan used the satellite phone they’d brought along.
“This is the Party Express calling Max,” he said.