He forced his focus on flying and hammering out the specifics of his plan. Under the cover of regular flight tasks, he'd managed to flip the setting on the silent transmission of the IFF. The Identification Friend or Foe radio frequency was now indicating a hijacking situation.
So far, Quinn hadn't noticed. Air security had tightened since Quinn's active duty days, and Tanner was counting on the older aviator not knowing that air traffic controllers were undoubtedly tracking them. Likely a DEA jet had vectored in from the border, racing up as U.S. fighters peeled away. Quinn would be apprehended on the ground by federal agents.
That was where things could get tricky.
Thus the need to get Kathleen off the plane. Now. He'd failed to protect his sister years ago, but by God, he wouldn't screw up this time.
Tanner flipped the autopilot switch.
Quinn jolted in his seat. "What are you doing? Keep your hands where I can see them. Don't move."
Kathleen's brow furrowed, her eyes blazing her question across the cockpit. What the hell are you doing?
Tanner ignored her for now. She would know soon enough, and she wouldn't like it one bit.
One battle at a time.
Quinn's hands shook. "Fly the plane. Now!"
This guy was too wired. It wouldn't take much for him to lose control of that trigger finger. Tanner's temple ached with an all-too-real reminder of Quinn's unpredictability.
"Chill, Quinn." Tanner held up his hands. "I'm not going anywhere. I just want to talk for a minute."
"Why would I want to talk?"
"Because you don't want anyone to get hurt. You may be a crook, but unless I miss my guess, you're not a murderer."
"I wouldn't bet on it, big guy."
Tanner didn't figure he would, either, still he needed to keep Quinn calm.
But then maybe it would be better to just end it now. All he needed was one fast jab to Quinn's jaw and it would be over. Sure, Quinn would have time to give Tanner a sucking chest wound, but Kathleen would have the crucial second needed to take out Quinn. No doubt she could do it, too.
Except how would she land? Worse yet, if the bullet went astray and blew a hole in the plane…
In spite of all that steely will firing from her eyes across the control panel, she was far too mortal.
Control. Think. No blasting in, half-cocked.
Tanner eased back. Some of Kathleen's logic would serve him well now. "You're a smart guy, had to be to pull this off for so long. I'll bet you have a cushy retirement planned."
"I just want my money. That's all I've ever wanted. I've had enough of being an underpaid, undervalued government employee."
"You were only in it for the money. You didn't want all this grief."
Quinn kept his gun steady in one hand, his eyes glowing like a jet jock sharing war tales. "I figured the scam was minimal risk for a big payback. How could I pass up the chance when I realized Randall liked to keep loose hours? So I ran half the tests and pocketed the money for running the other half. If half the tests went well, stands to reason the other fifty parts should work, right?"
Not hardly. "Now that you have your money, you're going to want to stay alive and enjoy it." Tanner allowed every ounce of anger to seep into his words. "And I'm telling you, pal, as long as Kathleen's around, there's a damned good chance we're gonna have a shoot-out. I'm feeling edgy. Yeah, I'm trying to control it, but if it looks like you're gonna hurt her, even just a little bit, I'm gonna lose it. Then I'm gonna go after you. Sure, you might get me."
Tanner canted forward. "But I might get you first."
Quinn's gun wavered.
"Are you willing to risk it? Why not just let her go and focus all your attention on me?"
"Let her go?"
"Let me go?" Kathleen's horrified voice ripped his gaze off Quinn and onto her. "Not on your life, you big—"