Deadly Cargo

by Jodie Bailey

  Jasmine navigated the plane over a flat green landscape sliced by rivers and streams. The mountains rose a short distance away to his right, stark and capped by snowy white glaciers. He could travel this state for years and never see it all. From the air, it was even more stunning than it was on the ground.

  While he studied the land below, the quiet tension in the plane grew even heavier. Silence was often his best weapon, a simple way to keep suspects off their guard. He had no doubt Jasmine was hiding something. He could practically feel the stress radiating off her.

  Still, even he could only take the quiet for so long. “We’re coming up on aurora season, aren’t we?” His voice sounded strange as it filtered through the mic and back into the headset, slightly nasally. When he was a kid and had watched TV shows, that kind of voice had sounded of adventure. In a way, it still did.

  Reaching up, Jasmine adjusted the throttle then dropped her hand to the yoke again. “Any day now.”

  “Ever seen it from up here?”

  She eyed him through her sunglasses. “I’m not a fan of flying at night. Straight instrument flying isn’t a lot of fun. And with the mountains, there’s too much chance of a controlled flight into terrain.”

  “A what?”

  “A crash.” She faced the front and shrugged. “I’m sure the light shows are pretty, but you won’t be seeing them with me. It won’t get fully dark until about 10:30. We’ll be back in Fairbanks by then. And even if we weren’t, we’re on the border of the season starting. Might not get a show for a few more days or even into next week.”

  Now that he had her talking, he needed to get her relaxed, then catch her off guard with the questions he really wanted to ask. “I’ve only lived here a few years. Alaska still amazes me. It’s a whole other world.”

  “Where’d you come from?”

  “Kansas.” Actually, he’d made the move from Minnesota, but given that her background check said she used to live in Kansas, he wanted to search for recognition.

  Her fingers seemed to tighten on the yoke, but then she nodded. “I lived there once. It was a long time ago.”

  Interesting. The parking tickets in her file were only about four years old. Anger and pride threatened to rise up and do battle with his common sense. There was nothing he hated more than being lied to. Nothing.

  He’d been warned more than once that his past sometimes threw a cloud over his judgment, that he was too suspicious, too cynical. He didn’t think that was necessarily a bad thing in his line of work.

  Trying to shake off his irritation, Will dropped his left hand and reached back to scratch Scout’s chin. He had to keep his voice level, his questions focused, but it was time to move in for some answers. “How long have you been flying in Alaska?”

  “About two years.” Jasmine made a show of studying the gauges in front of her. “I love it. Wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

  “And before that?”

  She glanced at him. Something in her expression was off, but she turned toward her side window before he could read what it was. “I flew freight for an international shipping company. Regional hops from their main hub in Illinois out to surrounding states.”

  Just like her background check said. “Where’d you get your pilot’s license?”

  “I’m sorry,” she snapped, much like she had back at the airstrip. This time, though, there was more fear than anger behind the words. “Why am I being interrogated? My plane was clean. I’m not the smuggler you’re looking for. I’m doing you a favor letting you fly a couple of hops today. If you’d stop focusing on me, maybe you’d find who you’re really looking for.”

  Knowing they’d be landing before too long, Will calculated his next move. She couldn’t get away from him right now. Wouldn’t crash the aircraft unless she was truly desperate, which she didn’t seem to be. And she couldn’t kill him while she was landing the plane. She’d be too busy. So he went for it. “So how come you’re a complete ghost on social media even though your background check indicates no reason for you to be hiding from anyone?”

  It was as though a sudden ice age hit the cockpit. Jasmine froze, her gaze locked on something out the plane’s front window, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the yoke. Even her mouth tightened, deep lines etching canyons in her pale face. “Maybe I don’t want my business out on the internet for everyone to see. And you had no right to check into my background. None. I’m not a criminal. I’m not—”

  “I had every right.” He kept his voice level, a stark contrast to the fear and anger icing hers. “My intel said you were ferrying opioids and you were armed. It’s the business of the Alaska State Troopers to know what they’re getting into ahead of time. For all I knew, you were a hired killer with sixteen notches on her belt.”

  At his words, her face grew even paler. It seemed she had trouble swallowing. For the first time, Will felt a shudder of concern run down his spine. Until this point, she’d been mildly frightened and slightly annoyed. Part of his training was knowing how to read people. And at the mention of assassins, her change in demeanor had tripped all sorts of alarms.

  Then her hands started to shake, and Will regretted questioning her while they were airborne. Either she was innocent and frightened enough to freak out and crash this plane or...

  Or he’d hit a little too close to home, and Jasmine Jefferson was a cold-blooded killer.

  THREE

  Fear shot through Jasmine with a painful jolt. Trooper Stryker was too close to the truth, throwing her fragile security into complete and utter chaos.

  His questions, his interference, could cost her everything if he figured out that her past was not what it said on paper.

  Worse, if he saw through her, who else could?

  She fought to steady her thoughts and her hands. Thankfully, the landing wasn’t off-airport, which would require a lot more focus. While the small dirt strip at Landsher was not as well maintained as the one at Nemeti, the graded runway was better than trying to land in an open field the way she’d have to at their final stop at Loifort.

  They bounced to a stop, her entire body trembling so much she could hardly run through shutdown.

  As soon as she killed the engine and the airstrip’s owner, Harley Bahe, chocked the wheels, Jasmine reached across Will and shoved his door open. “Get off my plane. Now.” She straightened and gripped her hands in her lap, praying he couldn’t see the tremors in her fingers or hear the shaking in her voice.

  He turned toward her, barely banked fire in his eyes. “Ms. Jefferson, I don’t think—”

  “Now.” She shook her head once as Harley watched through the front window, seeming to ask if she was okay. She wasn’t, but she couldn’t risk him boarding her plane at the moment. She had a text message to send as soon as she was alone. There was no way she’d get off the plane before she sent it either. “Take Scout and get out. Someone can chopper in and get you back to Fairbanks. I’m done.”

  Will seemed to hold his breath, but then he reached behind him, unhooked Scout and climbed out. When he motioned for the dog to follow, Scout jumped up on the seat and into Will’s waiting arms. The pair walked away, leaving the door open.

  Jasmine didn’t care what he thought of her. She wasn’t sure it was worth caring about anything anymore. Because if this thing was as bad as she feared it might be, she could end this day with nothing left to care about anyway. Jerking her personal satellite phone from her hip pocket, she fired off a quick text to a number she’d been forced to memorize two years earlier. State trooper ran my background. He’s suspicious. Asking questions. Had a partner with him but not now.

  The return text from her WITSEC handler, Deputy Marshal Sam Maldonado, was nearly instantaneous. Why a background search?

  False tip that I’m running drugs. Am I safe?

  Probably. And anyone who knows your story knows that tip is false.


  Should you clear me before this does something to wreck me?

  This time, it took longer for the response. Will call the state. Want to know for certain he’s legit.

  Jasmine froze. It had never crossed her mind that Trooper Stryker might be lying about his identity. What if he’d been sent to kill her and she’d trusted a badge and uniform he’d ordered online?

  But the dog...

  At the edge of the airstrip, Scout sat at attention beside Will, ready for action. It seemed like a really elaborate con if an assassin had gone to the trouble of training a dog just to take her out of commission.

  No. She was just being paranoid. He had a partner and paperwork to prove he was on the up and up. The man had to be a legitimate trooper.

  Her stomach in knots and her heart racing, Jasmine climbed into the back of the plane, shoved open the cargo door and started passing boxes out to Harley. He paused close to the plane and slid his hat back to scratch his gray hair. The wrinkles on his sun-lined face were etched deeper than usual. “Everything okay?” He kept his voice low, likely to keep Trooper Stryker from hearing from his position about twenty feet away.

  “Fine. He’s just along for the ride.” As much as she’d love to spill about her day to the man who oversaw the small airstrip, she had no desire to blow the trooper’s mission, not if he was trying to keep it secret. Jasmine wanted the drug flow to stop as much as he did and, although she didn’t trust him, she certainly didn’t want to jeopardize his work. “Guess it’s been a while since any law enforcement has been this way, and he saw the need to make a patrol. I picked him up in Nemeti.”

  When she moved to pass a huge bag of rice out to Harley, he laid a hand on hers and looked into her eyes from his position on the ground. “It’s a good thing you’re doing, letting him fly in with you. It’s time someone came out here to check on us. They flew Casey Bell out in a helicopter two days ago. Overdose.”

  Jasmine’s shoulders slumped. Casey Bell ran a small wildlife rehab center ten miles from the airstrip and often helped Harley keep the makeshift runway graded. “What did he take?”

  “I haven’t heard. I just know it wasn’t good when he left.” With a quick pat of her hand, he went back to his job, stacking the cargo onto the back of an ancient four-wheeler so he could haul it to the locked storage shed. People from outlying areas would come in and get their shipments as they were able.

  Jasmine sat back on her heels and watched him drive away. He nodded his head at the trooper as he passed, and the trooper looked up from his satellite phone long enough to nod back.

  Harley was right. Someone needed to check up on the people she cared about, the people she served. And no one knew the flight paths better than she did. What if she offered a truce to Trooper Stryker? Allowed him to tag along with her for more than one day while he figured out who the real bad guys were? It would be uncomfortable, but her discomfort would be a small price to pay to put a choke hold on the drug trade on the frontier.

  When her sat phone buzzed in her pocket, she glanced at the number and pulled it to her ear, her heart picking up speed. She glanced at the small storage pouch by her seat where she stored her pistol. If that man wasn’t a real law enforcement officer after all...

  Pulling in a deep breath, she answered the phone.

  “Jasmine.” Deputy Marshal Maldonado’s voice was professional yet friendly. “Are you safe?”

  “I am. I hope. You tell me.”

  “Trooper Will Stryker is legit. I spoke to his colonel. If you’re looking at a tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed trooper with a border collie named Scout as a partner, then you’re looking at Will Stryker.”

  Across the space between them, he seemed to sense they were talking about him and glanced up. “I am.”

  “Good. Your identity is safe. I did a cursory check and it doesn’t appear anyone has accessed your witness protection file. No one is coming after you today.”

  “You’re sure?” Trusting was difficult, but the deputy had never steered her wrong.

  “You can fly Trooper Stryker wherever he needs to go...and he will leave you this evening none the wiser. The only way this would become an issue is if he was joining you long-term. We’d have to find a way to answer his questions then.” Maldonado cleared his throat. “His colonel informed me he’s pretty relentless when he smells trouble. And while it’s not unusual to let law enforcement know your situation, I’d advise against letting too many people find out.”

  “So, what happens if he flies with me for longer than today?” The words were out before she could stop them. The implosion of her life two years ago had started because she wanted to help. She’d fled her life in Los Angeles after witnessing a drug hit gone wrong. Testifying had cost Jasmine her name, her second-grade classroom and her family. While her life had gone up in flames and she’d been looking over her shoulder ever since, taking the stand had been worth it. Her testimony had put contract killer Anton Rogers into maximum security prison for life.

  He’d vowed revenge. A bomb beneath her car shortly after he was locked away said that he could still reach her, even from prison. When he targeted her for execution, Yasmine Carlisle had died so that Jasmine Jefferson could be born.

  “What do you mean by him flying with you for more than just today?” Deputy Maldonado shifted from skeptical to resigned. “You want to help him, don’t you?”

  Jasmine said nothing. She didn’t have to. The deputy marshal knew her well. Even if she found herself in danger again, she couldn’t turn her back on the people of Alaska.

  Maldonado exhaled loudly. It was hard to tell if he was frustrated or simply resigned to the fact that God had given her a personality that couldn’t help but serve others. “I can’t tell you not to, but you have to understand that if you want to work with him and alleviate all of his suspicions about you, then you’ll likely have to allow me to tell him the truth about who you are. And that means, when this is over, it broadens the possibility that you could have to leave Alaska in order to guarantee your safety.”

  No. Alaska was her home now. It had taken two years, but she finally felt safe here. Felt like she was doing the work God had created her to do. Her job was crucial to people’s survival. She was good at it, and she got to fly, which was the thing she loved most in the world. In fact, it was one of the things she’d refused to give up when she moved into protection.

  But if it meant saving lives by slicing the head off the dragon...

  Jasmine turned away from Will and stared across the undulating land to the mountains in the distance. With a sigh, she surrendered the life she loved. “Tell him.”

  * * *

  Head tilted toward his phone, Will surreptitiously watched Jasmine as she disconnected her call and stared at the device. She’d initially appeared disturbed but, based on her straightened posture, she’d apparently come to some sort of resolve.

  That resolve had better not involve leaving him at this remote outpost. Or dumping his body somewhere nearby.

  Now she sat in the cargo door, legs dangling over the side of the plane. She observed him as though waiting for something. For him to apologize again? Maybe—

  His phone vibrated and indicated a blocked number. Interesting. He flicked the screen and answered. “Stryker.”

  “Trooper Will Stryker?” The man’s voice was brusque. All business.

  Will’s pulse picked up. “Yes.”

  “I’m Deputy US Marshal Sam Maldonado.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he watched Jasmine jump from the plane. Her lower lip was drawn between her teeth. Gone was the tough woman who’d booted him off her plane. Clearly, this call had everything to do with her. “Go ahead.”

  “We need to talk about Jasmine Jefferson.”

  He knew it. She was on the run. He wasn’t fond of arresting her out here alone, but if—

  “Trooper, I’m w
ith Witness Security.”

  The phone nearly slipped through Will’s fingers. Of all the things he’d expected, that wasn’t one of them. “WITSEC?” He scrubbed his hand along the back of his neck. What sort of trouble had he unleashed for Jasmine by checking into her background?

  Beside him, Scout stood and pressed his nose to Will’s calf, sensing the tension.

  “I’ll forward proof to you and your colonel over secure channels, but you can trust her. She wants to help you.” The voice lost some of its businesslike tone. “Even if it means giving up her life a second time. She can tell you more, but know she will put herself in danger to protect others.”

  “I can see that. What did she do to merit protection?” He was fishing. Was she a bad actor who’d turned on someone else to save herself?

  “She’s an innocent civilian who chose to give up her life to put away a criminal. Be careful with what she’s giving you.” The deputy marshal ended the call.

  By the time Will gathered his thoughts, Jasmine had completed her preflight and climbed into her seat where she sat waiting. He hefted Scout into the plane, secured him and took his seat. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

  She lifted the headset. “Not over these.” She held up a hand to stop Harley as he walked out to remove the wheel chocks. When he backed away with a puzzled expression, she spoke. “I’ll tell you the short version, but we don’t discuss it in flight over headsets.”

  Understandable. Even though the odds were against someone overhearing a cockpit transmission, it could still happen.

  “I was a teacher in California. I was out running errands in a neighborhood I’d never visited before.” She fiddled with her seat belt. “I saw a man in an alley shoot another man in the back of the head. And he saw me. I made it to a police station before he caught up.”