by Angi Morgan
“Change of plans, Bart,” Tenoreno said, barely loud enough to be heard over the engine noise. “How much fuel did you manage?”
“I have enough to take you to the rendezvous. You didn’t buy anything else. That’s as far as this baby and I will take you.”
“Unsatisfactory. Come up with a new location not far from Waco.”
“That’s not the deal,” the pilot insisted.
“Your deal is whatever I say it is.” Tenoreno pulled the slide to verify ammo was in place.
“What the hell are you doing? Are you seriously going to shoot him while we’re in the air?” Mack shouted, sitting forward on his seat.
Tenoreno shot him a shut-up look. “Where are we landing, Bart?”
“Hearne.”
“Get us there.” Keeping his weapon trained on Bart, Tenoreno looked at Mack. “Call your men with the new location.”
“That’s taking an unnecessary risk. My men can easily bring Oaks to you later. How do you plan—”
“Do it! We’ll exchange him and his kids.”
Josh crushed his teeth together to keep from interjecting. He’d played right into Tenoreno’s plan more than once. Mack removed a satellite phone from the bag at his feet and made the call.
“I want Oaks discredited and dead. He’s supposed to be chained back there, not Parker.” Tenoreno spoke to Mack who shrugged. “You’ve gotten sloppy, Vince. There are too many people involved. Too much has been left up to chance.”
“I follow orders. It wasn’t my plan that went wrong,”
“I suppose it was my idiot son, then. Why didn’t kidnapping his kids work? Didn’t the Rangers replace him with Oaks?” He pointed to Josh.
“That part of the plan worked fine.” Mack smiled as if he’d regained the confidence he’d lost for a moment. “Maybe they thought Oaks would kill you himself if he was on a plane with you.”
“Ha.” Tenoreno put the headset on and turned to the front of the plane. Mack and Josh sat silently next to each other until Mack leaned forward and added the ankle restraints, locking Josh to the plane.
“I never underestimate the power of emotion. Especially that of a father. I told my employers that, but they insisted on this ridiculous revenge plan. Wouldn’t listen to me.” Was he bragging that he had predicted Josh’s behavior?
“Smart advice for someone dumb enough not to follow it.” They could talk without either of the other men hearing. “You know this exchange this isn’t going to work. Right?”
“You Rangers are so full of pride that buying you off isn’t an option. Fortunately, killing you is.”
“You kidnapped my kids so you could kill Oaks?”
“No, Major. We did all this to free Paul. The only way to get Oaks off his back is to kill him.” Mack pointed the gun at Josh. He raised and lowered the barrel as if it had just been fired. “You see, you guys just don’t stop. We can buy off other agencies, bribe or blackmail some types of guys...like Bart. But Rangers? None of that works.”
“So you’re telling me that if the Texas Rangers had a history of corruption, my kids would be safe at home?”
“Kind of ironic when you look at it that way.” Mack leaned back in his seat, machine pistol in his lap.
There wasn’t any reason to keep a close eye on Josh. He wasn’t going anywhere cuffed hand and foot. No chance to attempt anything.
“Before I waste my time trying to convince you I’m not important, tell me why you let me board. And don’t say it’s because you wanted to see if I could make it through the door.”
“I’ve got to say that I admire the way you don’t give up. You’re here because I can use you for a hostage. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“Use me all you want. Just make the call that will let my kids go.” Josh swallowed hard.
“We both saw the mess back at the airport. It won’t be long before the Rangers are calling Oaks and the entire state is after us. I have some leverage with you here.”
“I’m a nobody. They won’t negotiate because of me.”
“We’ll see.” Mack dropped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. At this point, Josh shouldn’t and didn’t trust anyone except himself to save his children. Except Tracey. He trusted Tracey. For one moment, it was nice to imagine what she might have been about to tell him. One moment when he hoped she knew exactly how he felt about her.
Chapter Seventeen
They pulled to a stop and Tracey felt the van settle into a parked position. She kept her eyes down, pretending to be asleep. She sneaked a peek out the windows. It looked the same as the rest of their ride. The sun was just dusting the treetops and highlighting the surrounding fields. Whatever was going to happen, it didn’t seem like there was anyplace close to hide.
The two Macks looked at the phone, said things under their breath and got cautiously out of the van. Tracey rose quickly and looked out all the windows. They were at a small airport. One smaller than Waco and not large enough to have a terminal or control tower.
The van was parked a long way from any building or aircraft hangar.
“Listen to me, Sage. There might be a chance that you can run and hide without these men seeing you. If you can, you do it. Don’t look back. This is important. Just run as fast as you can. Okay?”
“By myself?”
“Yes, baby.” She lifted the little girl to look out the back windows. “You see those hay bales across the road?” She pointed. Sage nodded. “Can you run that far?”
“Is it important?” Sage whispered.
“Yes, baby. Very important. Somebody will find you. Promise.”
“I want to go home,” Jackson insisted. “I don’t feel like running. I want to eat colors ’cause it’ll make me run faster.”
Tracey looked closely at Jackson’s eyes. She hadn’t monitored his blood sugar levels in several hours and had none of the necessary tools now. She had to completely rely on her experience of the last year.
Acting out, anger, lethargy, not making sense with his words—those were all sure signs that his blood sugar was dropping. She got up front as quickly as possible. Why hadn’t she thought of that first? There weren’t any keys in the ignition, but she locked both the doors.
“Sage, lock the back and the side doors. Quick!”
The van rocked back and forth a little when Sage moved. She made it to the side door while Tracey searched for a spare key or food. Nothing but ketchup packets and trash.
The van moved again, but this time it was from the rear door being yanked open.
“I told you she was up to something.”
“It didn’t matter. I had the keys to get back in.” Blond Mack dangled them like candy in front of her.
Tracey huddled with the kids again, not trying to explain herself or reason with them. They were tugged from the vehicle. Tracey held Jackson on her hip and he put his head on her shoulder.
“You sure that’s them, man?”
“You think there’s more than one plane sitting on this out-of-the-way runway?”
“Then what are they waiting for?”
The men whispered behind her. Maybe they were using her and the kids as a shield. She didn’t know. She held Jackson’s forty-four pounds tight against her and wanted to pick up Sage. Instead she held tight to her hand and the little girl held the secondhand bear against her own little chest.
There was no movement from the white Cessna.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Who’s in the plane? Do we have to get on board?”
Her thoughts were considering the worst-case scenario. The one where awful things happened in an isolated basement where no one could find them. The bodyguards suddenly seemed like a really good idea.
Neither of the men answered. Neither of the men moved.
“I got a creepy feeling about this, man. You get me?”
Tracey thought it was the blond guy talking, but it didn’t matter. They both were armed and the only place close where she could protect the kids was back inside the van.
She’d never make it carrying Jackson, who was more lethargic than just a few minutes ago. He needed food and she didn’t know how much.
“What does the text say?”
“I don’t care what it says anymore. Get back in the van.”
It was definitely the blond Mack giving the orders. She could tell that they faced each other and had a phone between them. She inched Sage toward the corner of the van, ready to make a run for it. She desperately wanted her hunch about this to be right.
A hunch that told her Josh was on that plane waiting to see if she and the kids were released. But that would mean someone—like the FBI or police or Rangers—was here somewhere, waiting.
The men continued to argue behind her and she loosened her hold on Sage. She arched her eyebrows, questioning if she should run, and Tracey nodded. She looked so young and yet so much older than two days ago. Tracey didn’t have to guess if she understood the danger—she did. Josh’s little girl squeezed her hand, then tiptoed along the length of the back of the van and ran.
The arguing stopped. Tracey turned around, keeping her hand behind her back. Hoping the two Macks would think Sage was hiding there. She stared at the men, one arm cramping from holding Jackson, the other waving his sister to safety.
“Where’s the girl?”
“She’s right—”
They both took a step in Tracey’s direction. Blond Mac’s hands were out to take Jackson from her. She turned but only made it a couple of steps. The van doors were still open. Blond had a hold of Jackson; the other guy pushed her inside the van, climbing in on top of her.
She couldn’t see if Sage made it across the road. Based on the cursing and slamming fists against the van, then the running to get in the driver’s seat, she assumed Sage was out of sight.
Thank God.
* * *
THEY HAD LANDED about five or ten minutes earlier. Mack had been surprised and Tenoreno had been rather pleased. Neither had said anything loud enough to let Josh determine what was going on. But it had something to do with meetings and putting them at greater risk.
Tenoreno was in the copilot’s chair and Mack was busy sending an in-depth text. Neither paid attention to the activity at the van. The plane was far enough down the runway to make the van visible to Josh. He yanked against the chains when Tracey and the kids had been wrenched from it. He managed to cap his panic when he saw his little girl run. He didn’t want to draw attention to her.
“Did your heart stop there for a minute?” Bart the pilot asked. “I know mine sure did. That’s this guy’s kid. Right? Man, you’ve got a brave little girl.”
Josh nodded. He might have gotten out a yes or confirmation grunt, but he couldn’t be certain. As soon as the relief hit that the men weren’t following Sage and she might be safe, the anxiety had doubled as Jackson and Tracey were pushed back inside the van. Tracey hadn’t run. He’d seen Jackson’s form. He was practically limp in Tracey’s arms. Something was wrong with his son.
“What are you talking about?” Tenoreno shouted as Sage disappeared behind a hay bale. “Tell them to go get her. Why didn’t you say something when she ran?”
“Man, I didn’t sign on to hurt any kids. Disengage the transponder, fly the plane, get my payoff. Sure. Hurting kids was not included and won’t be.”
“If we didn’t need a pilot, you’d be dead now.” Tenoreno turned an interesting shade of explosive red.
“We don’t need the girl. We didn’t need additional hostages on the plane. I tried to tell you that.”
“This is not a debate. You work for me.”
Tenoreno screamed his lack of control. Bart shrank a little more toward the pilot’s door. Mack’s body stiffened as he deliberately sank back into the leather seat. The muscle in his jaw twitched. He let the machine pistol’s barrel drop in line with his boss’s head. Accident or deliberate?
Josh didn’t want Mack to open fire. Not when he didn’t have a weapon and no control over the men still holding Tracey and Jackson.
“It doesn’t matter now. Here they come. Open the door, then tell the men to bring the woman on board.”
Josh couldn’t see who was inside the darkened windows. Mack did as he was instructed—opened the door and called his men on the phone.
If he made it through this, someone might eventually ask him what he’d hoped to gain by allowing himself to become a hostage. Originally there’d been a lot of adrenaline involved. But it came down to being there for his kids. He couldn’t let anyone else make decisions that involved their lives. And if that put his at risk.
So be it.
Chapter Eighteen
“This isn’t going to work.” George was compelled to voice his thoughts one last time. “There’s only one reason they’d want you here, Captain Oaks. Paul Tenoreno wants to kill you.”
“We have a sound plan.”
“Hardly. It’s our only plan. Might be a good one for Tenoreno. You get out of the car, they shoot you. Period. They have no reason to release any of the hostages.”
Crouched in the backseat of a small sedan wasn’t the most comfortable place George had ever held a conversation. It definitely wasn’t the worst, either. At least he wasn’t shoved in the trunk like last year. He shook the random thoughts from his mind and concentrated.
Aiden Oaks had parked the car next to the Cessna. His plan to accommodate the kidnappers and escaped prisoner hadn’t included the FBI. George was coordinating the teams surrounding the airstrip.
Of course, the entire jumping-in-the-car-at-the-last-minute thing had caught him slightly unprepared. He was only carrying his cell phone and Glock. The ammo he had in the magazine was it. The team was communicating through a series of group texts.
“No one asked you to ride along,” Aiden said.
“No, sir, you didn’t. I have a lot of experience with kidnappings and abductions. Did you know that, Captain?”
“I wouldn’t say you’ve had any experience with this kind. Those kids are still in danger because the men who outrank me wouldn’t allow me to escort Tenoreno’s flight. He’s a vindictive son of—”
“I know why we’re waiting, but what do you think they’re waiting for? Is the van with Tracey and Jackson still sitting on the road? Damn, that was a brave move Tracey made, sending one of the kids to safety.”
The cop who picked her up had her safely in his squad car.
“Good thing the Hearne PD picked up Sage as she ran to hide behind the hay. Sweet thing argued that she had to stay there and wait on her daddy.” Aiden chuckled. “Van’s been creeping up behind us at a snail’s pace. Everybody seems to be in a holding pattern. Are the men in place?”
“Three more minutes, sir.”
Just before they’d arrived in Hearne to rendezvous with Tenoreno, he’d kicked the rearview mirror off the windshield. It was propped on the backseat headrest so he could see the plane. The door opened but he couldn’t make out anything inside.
“Van’s speeding up. I’m getting out and leaving the door open for you, Agent Lanning.”
“We have eyes on Parker. He’s handcuffed and manacled to the seat behind the pilot. Tenoreno is in the copilot chair.” The team kept him up-to-date with a text. “You have your handcuff key ready?”
“Got it,” Oaks said as he swung his legs from the car. He left the door as a bit of protection between him and the plane.
George dialed Kendall’s number, ready to get the advance started with his men. He’d pass along information, but his phone was on silent, just in case the perps got close enough to hear him.
Then he angled the mirror, attempting to find any guns pointed in their direction. They knew from looking through the windows that at least two hostiles were aboard, maybe three.
The Rangers in Huntsville had stated that only the kidnapper who gave the orders was on board. Bart Temple, the pilot, already had an open investigation about his suspicious activities. The report from the airplane hangar suggested that he had supplied information and had voluntarily gotten on the plane.
“Air traffic has been diverted. We have a helicopter standing by in case we need it.”
The van squealed to a stop.
“Where are you going?” a man shouted.
George turned the mirror. “One man, armed with a Glock. Nervous. Anxious. Unpredictable. No eyes on Tracey or the boy.”
“Move to the door, Oaks,” a voice inside the plane said.
“I ain’t no rookie. Release Parker and the other hostages.”
“The Major is cozy and staying where he is.”
“Then so am I.” Oaks sat on the seat.
George knew what the captain was doing. It didn’t make it any easier to wait on the kidnappers’ next move.
Tracey screamed and George could only imagine what the kidnappers had done to elicit her reaction. Damn, he hated being blind. He whipped the mirror around to see the driver pulling Tracey past the steering wheel. Soon they were joined by his partner, who carried Jackson.
“The kid looks ill. I repeat, the kid looks ill and won’t be able to run on his own.”
“Hey, you guys in the plane.” The driver pushed the barrel of his handgun under Tracey’s chin. “Or inside the car. Whoever cares about this woman! You better give us a way out of here or she and the kid are going to get it.”
“Yeah,” the one cradling Jackson said. “We want our own plane. Or you can kick these bastards out and we’ll take this one.”
“I can get another plane here. Why don’t you give me the kid to show good faith?” Oaks tried to negotiate.
“Oh no. No way! We keep both of them.” They argued.