Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Again.
Not only was he exceptionally quiet during takeoff, he also didn’t move a muscle. Like his body had gone into some sort of suspended state. As we climbed toward cruising altitude, I glanced at him. He looked determined. Collected.
It only made me angrier.
I leveled off, engaged the autopilot, and pushed the yoke free. Fire stung in my eyes as I looked at him, demanding he speak.
“I did everything I could to try to save them,” he said. “I was trying to save you.” His eyebrows pulled together, and his expression was full of remorse. “He’s unpredictable, and I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Unpredictable?” I said, my voice raised. “People are dead because of your mistake.”
“You think I don’t know that? I’m the one who put their goddamn bodies on the plane.”
Gio’s voice came through the open door, asking something, and Ethan growled out a response. Footsteps approached.
“No,” I said, my pulse racing. I couldn’t have the murderous piece of shit enter the only sanctuary I had left, shattering the illusion of safety and control I clung to. “Tell him to stay out of my cockpit.”
Ethan said something, and the footsteps stopped. The heavy, quick breathing said Gio lingered just outside the doorway. There was a terse conversation between the men.
“We’ve discussed how to handle the situation of landing in Rome. He’ll have someone at the airport make sure the officials stay away.”
I balled my fists, and my nails bit into my palms. My emotions threatened to tear me apart, but the footsteps faded as Gio returned to his seat.
This couldn’t be happening. I wouldn’t allow this to happen. I had to do something.
Maybe I could get the drug from Ethan and slip it into Gio’s drink. If he was unconscious, that would be—
Wait a minute.
I didn’t need a drug to achieve that.
My O2 mask would fall from the portside overhead compartment, and oxygen flowed longer to the pilots’ masks. All I had to do was switch off the airflow valve from Engine One and wait for the air to thin enough to make the masks drop.
Either Gio would ignore the mask and lose consciousness quickly, or he’d take it and stay locked in his chair until his supply ran out. The chemical generator had ten minutes at the most for passengers, considerably more for the cockpit.
I’d get him on the ground in one piece as requested. Ethan hadn’t said shit about Gio’s brain being damaged by hypoxia. I eyed the airflow switch, hesitant, but Ethan interrupted my thoughts.
“What are you thinking about?”
He didn’t seem like the type, but a lot of people panicked when oxygen masks appeared. I had to hope the large man beside me would remain calm. Fifteen minutes at the most, then I’d switch the airflow back on, or drop below ten thousand feet.
“I’m thinking about what’s going to happen to us after we land,” I lied.
It took a tremendous effort to casually reach forward and toggle the switch to off and confirm the decision when the warning alert sounded. I checked the gauges and pretended this was all normal, as if I wasn’t about to cut off the oxygen supply in the cabin.
My heart raced and blood roared in my ears louder than the constant hum of engines. The sound of the cooling fan slowing was subtle, and even if Ethan noticed, he probably wouldn’t think anything of it.
Outwardly, I remained composed, but inside, panic poured into my stomach.
Did he know I’d just become the most dangerous thing on my plane? As Gio’s brain was starved of oxygen, he’d become disoriented. Perhaps his speech would slur and he’d speak nonsense, although I wouldn’t understand either way. Maybe he’d experience euphoria, as some people reported they did, but—God, I hoped not. He didn’t deserve it.
All I wanted was the loss of consciousness the hypoxia was likely to bring.
Ethan scrutinized me when I turned to him, but I kept my face blank.
“Let me worry about what to do when we land,” he said. “Maybe you don’t trust me, but you need to listen to me. If I tell you to be quiet, that means you stay absolutely silent. Understand?”
His voice was harsh, and I got the sense he was overcompensating. Trying to take command of an uncontrollable situation. I didn’t give him any response.
“Do as I say,” he said, “and I can get you out of this. You were in the military, so I know you can follow orders.”
My lips parted to suck in a breath, and I suddenly couldn’t wait to see him panic when the warning alarm sounded and the plastic bags and tubing sprang from the compartments. It couldn’t come soon enough.
“You don’t know a thing about me,” I said.
It was a lie. He knew plenty about me, and he probably saw right through the front I was so careful to put up. It took a bull-shitter to know one.