“No. But I’d like to know who they’re working for.” He studied the men scattered on the ground like fallen logs, then looked back the way they’d come. “They drove here in a vehicle, obviously. We can use it to make a getaway.”
He turned to the man he’d been fighting and reached into the guy’s right front pocket.
“Jackpot,” he said as he pulled out a set of keys. After hesitating for a moment, he went through more pockets. The man had a wallet with no identification. But there was a lot of cash. Shane put the money into his own pocket and wiped his fingerprints off the billfold. Then he took the gun from the man’s hand.
“What happened to yours?” she asked. “You fired once, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Then it jammed. Probably from the river water.”
He got up, wavering on his feet, and she gave him a critical look. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. And we need to get out of here before the cops show up.”
Before she could ask another question, he said, “Nice pitching.”
“Thanks.”
“I thought softball pitching was underhand.”
“It is. But I practiced the other way, too. To see if I could do it.”
He stopped again to pick up his weapon. “We’d better not leave it for the cops to find. And when I get some gun oil, I can have it in working order again.”
They continued down the access road, then stopped when they came to an SUV pulled into a clearing.
Shane opened the door and slipped behind the wheel. Then he inserted the key in the ignition. When the engine caught, he let out a breath.
Elena had already gotten into the passenger seat.
“Check the glove compartment,” he said. “See if you can find out who owns this car.”
She opened the glove box and looked inside.
“Anything interesting?”
“It’s like the wallet. There’s nothing to tie it to anyone. Not even a registration.”
“Figures. And they probably stole the license plates. I guess if they got stopped by a cop, they’d shoot him.”
She made a strangled sound. “Truly?”
“Just a theory. But I wouldn’t discount it. They don’t want anyone to know who they are or what they’re doing.”
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Farther away. And maybe this time we’ll be safe.”
His face had turned gray, and she gave him a questioning look. “Are you hurt?”
“Not bad.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. And our first priority is to get out of here,” he said.
“In their car?”
“Only for a few miles. I’ve got faster transportation.”
He drove to a small airport about twenty miles from the estate where they’d been hiding out.
After pulling up on a strip of grass where other vehicles were parked, he said. “Wait here.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be a few minutes,” he added.
He went into the office and even though he’d warned her, he was gone long enough for her to start worrying. She was sure he wouldn’t leave her here. But what was he doing?
When he finally reappeared, she felt some of her tension ebb.
He came back to the car and slipped into the driver’s seat.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He drove the car down the strip of grass and into a hangar where several planes were parked.
“Wipe off any surfaces you might have touched,” he said.
She used her shirt to wipe the interior around the passenger seat while he did the same with the steering wheel and the driver’s side. Once they’d left the building, he closed the door behind him.
“The owner’s a friend of mine,” he said. “He’ll drive the car away from here and leave it in the woods.”
He ushered her to a small single-engine plane that sat with a number of others in a field to the left.
“That’s yours?” she asked.
“Rockfort’s. We’re all experienced pilots. I’m going to do a preflight check before we take off.”
Shane focused on the checklist. He wanted to get out of the area, but he wasn’t going to skip this important step, because if you took off without making sure everything was working properly, you could get yourself killed.
He started methodically, making sure the aircraft registration, certification, and other paperwork were in the cabin and up to date.
Next he turned on the master power switch and checked the fuel gauges, glad to see that the plane was gassed up. It helped steady him to focus on the plane and not his physical condition—or his relationship with Elena—or the surprise of finding out that Iverson was knee-deep in the S&D shit.
He pushed that out of his mind again as he listened to the sounds of equipment powering on. To his relief, everything sounded okay.
Finally he checked the flaps, landing gear lockdown levers, and other flight controllers for smooth, normal function.
When he was satisfied, he turned to Elena.
“All set.”
“Do you have to…file a flight plan?”
“I did when I was in the office.”
“Where are we going?”
“North Carolina. We have another facility down there.” He snorted, then fought not to wince. “Let’s hope it’s better hidden than the one up here.” He looked at her. “Buckle up.”
She did as he asked, but she looked jittery as he taxied down the runway.
“You’ve flown before, haven’t you?”
“Well, we flew here from Mexico, but I’ve never been in a plane this small,” she said as he picked up speed and they sailed into the air.
“I’ll try to make it fun,” he answered, then gritted his teeth against the pain in his side. He probably shouldn’t be flying at all, but getting out of here was his first priority.
When they were airborne and he’d gotten his bearings, he looked toward her. “Thanks for your help.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you in danger.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you, either.”
He wanted to say a lot more, but he’d have to save it for later, because all he could deal with was flying the plane. He had to keep his emotions out of it until he got them to safety.
Elena had expected that once they were out of danger Shane might relax a little, but she didn’t see any evidence of that. She wanted to touch him. Maybe put her hand on his arm, but distracting him now seemed like a bad idea.
Some of her own tension about the small plane dissipated as he flew south, staying along the coast, sometimes pointing out landmarks below them as they passed over.
Casting around for something to say, she murmured, “You said you filed a flight plan? Can’t the men looking for us use it to find out where we went?”
He answered with a hollow laugh. “I guess they can try. They have to figure out we took a plane. And if they figure that out, the flight plan is false.”
She absorbed that information. “You can do that?”
“The guy who owns the airport has helped us out before. He’ll cover for me.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t say anything more, and she kept stealing glances at him, thinking that he wasn’t in good shape. But she figured that if he’d wanted to tell her about it, he would.
A couple of hours later, he landed at another small airport near Elizabeth City, North Carolina.
“While I was in the office, I arranged to have a car waiting,” he said as he taxied down the runway, then pulled off onto a grassy strip similar to the airplane parking space where they’d taken off.
Elena followed Shane to a small office, similar to the one at the previous airport.
“Good flight?” the man behind the desk asked.
“Yeah.” Shane reached into his pocket and got out some of the money he’d taken from the killer.