“The pilot took a knife to it,” Lan said, tossing a big yellow thing into the cabin. “It’s useless as a raft, but we could build a desalination unit with it. If we can find some land. I tossed the clothes out of this case. I think it was the hostess’s. It’s now holding water bottles and a bunch of snacks. Hope you like crackers, peanuts, and pâté. What the fuck is pâté made of?”
He didn’t have time to teach Landon about the art of fine cuisine. “Anything we can use to fish?”
“I’ve got land!” Cooper shouted.
Dane shoved down his relief. It wasn’t over yet.
“I’ll find something.” Lan moved quicker, running to the back of the plane again.
Alea stood just as the plane jerked and the engines died. She staggered, and the truth hit him. No more fuel. They were coasting now, and that could be very bad because they were dependent on a lot of factors they couldn’t control, like the wind, the current, and their speed.
Alea lurched toward the cockpit just as the plane started to take a nosedive. It almost immediately corrected with a jerk, then tilted the opposite direction. She tumbled, but Dane threw an arm around her waist, hauling her close. She stiffened but calmed, then stepped through the door with a gasp.
Damn it. The body. Cooper had shoved the pilot to the floor and now occupied his seat, his hand on the yoke. The pilot had definitely poisoned himself, as evidenced by his blue lips and the empty cup he clutched in his hand. Dead eyes stared up into nothingness.
Why the fuck would the pilot kill the hostess and himself, then sabotage the plane and leave him and the others alive?
“Alea, come on. You don’t need to be here.” Dane urged her toward the door. The last thing he needed was for her to freak out.
“I’m fine.” She pulled out her phone, all business. “This isn’t my first dead body. Cooper, how can I help? Do you need latitude and longitude?”
“Yes,” Cooper said. “Can you get that?”
“Alea, baby, there’s no signal,” Dane pointed out. She wasn’t thinking.
“I don’t need a signal,” Alea insisted. “The magnetic poles work just fine without a satellite signal. Zero-seven and thirty degrees north by one hundred thirty-four and thirty east. I think we’ve crossed past the Indian Ocean and into the western Pacific. We’re way off course, probably somewhere near the Philippines. It looks like there are lots of little islands out there.” She seemed to notice everyone staring at her. She shrugged a little. “What? I liked taking geography and I’m really good at memorization.”
Damn. She sounded competent. Dane looked out over the horizon. Sure enough he could see little tiny dots of green and gold in an endless sea of blue.
“I don’t know how far away that is.” Cooper wiped away the sweat dotting his forehead. “We started at about thirty-five thousand feet. Damn, it’s been so long. My father made us all learn how to fly cropdusters, but they were little prop planes. I had a little training in the Navy, but…”
“What’s the wind like, tail or head?” Alea asked. “I’m sorry. I should be able to feel it, but I’m still a bit woozy.”
Coop visibly calmed as Alea spoke, as though focusing and doing his level best to save her. “It’s a tail wind, baby. It’s at our back. Do you know anything about flying?”
She nodded. “I do. I took lessons when I was a teenager and I studied hard. I always did. In a glide, we’ll lose four to five thousand feet a minute. We’re light and have a tail wind. We’ve got around six or seven minutes. We’re going to go past those patches of land, but like I said, there should be other islands in the region. Get us close, Coop. Even if we hit the water, we’ll swim. At least I hope I can swim.”
Damn, his girl was smart even when she’d been drugged. A ridiculous pride surged in his chest. “She’s right, Coop. You can do this. And Lea, don’t you worry. Even if you’re still weak, we’ll get you to safety. I can swim with you on my back if I have to.”
It would be rough, but if Coop could get them close to land, they could survive. Because they damn straight wouldn’t last in the open ocean. This was warm water. Sharks. Every Navy man knew the story of the USS Indianapolis. She went down in the Central Pacific during World War II, and three hundred were lost in the sinking. The remaining nine hundred or so went into the water. During the next four days, almost six hundred men were consumed by sharks.
These were the waters below. No fucking shark was going to take his crew. They were going to live, goddamn it.
First, he had to hope that Coop could actually land the plane and keep it from breaking apart. Even if he set down on the water, they could all survive if the crash was controlled and they got to land fast.
Six minutes. He had six minutes.
Dane put a hand on Alea’s shoulder. “I’m going to help Lan. You keep Coop on the right path. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Her face turned up, and he saw a strength there that blew him away. “We’ll be good. Get my suitcase. I’m ridiculously organized and I pack for everything. I have a first aid kit and some other helpful things, including a box of protein bars. I wasn’t sure I could find them in Australia. It’s the Louis Vuitton roller case.”
Well, of course. She would stave off Armageddon while wearing designer heels. “Will do, baby.”
He jogged back, determined to find that bag. Even if they dumped it in the ocean, if it was close enough, he could dive and find it.
Toward the back, he discovered that Lan had made a little mountain of crap on the floor. He’d pulled out wires, blankets, a small tool kit. Yes. He’d filled a backpack with extra water bottles and found enough odds and ends to build a desalinization port if they ran out of water.
The wire they could fashion into hooks and weapons. The sea would provide protein if they had the tools to get it. He knew enough about plants and herbs to know what to eat and what to avoid. They had the tools. They just needed the chance to survive.
He walked through the curtain and toward the back. Lan had decimated the food station. He’d taken everything except the ceramic mugs. Mistake. Ceramic made great knives. They all had a few, but it never hurt to bring more. And he’d left a pot. They would need that. The heavy plastic of the useless life raft would mean nothing if they didn’t have a damn container. Potable water would be their first goal. The bottled stuff wouldn’t last.
Lan walked through, carrying the luggage. He had all of their cases, including Alea’s Louis Vuitton bag. “I shoved some extra blankets and pillows into those.”
“Good. Did you find the flare guns?”
Lan nodded. “I wrapped them in plastic. They should be safe from the water.”
The plane dipped, now at a steeper angle, nearly sending him careening forward. Closer to the ocean. The phantom of the Indianapolis played through his head. He couldn’t let his men die. God, he couldn’t let Alea die.
“No matches,” Lan said, bracing himself against the wall.
The plane lurched again, the sensation causing Dane’s stomach to roll. Faster and faster, they were going down.
“Suit up,” Dane barked.
If Coop set them down flat, keeping the nose up, they would float for a brief time. They could get the door open and get to land.
Dane could feel the force of the descent pulling them down, threatening to tear the plane apart. The whole aircraft shuddered. But Coop managed to bring the nose up again as he and Lan gathered all the stuff and shoved them into whatever packs and suitcases they could find.
“Get ready,” Dane shouted.
He grabbed the nearest backpack. All military guys carried them, big, weighty duffels with arm holes. He tossed one to Lan. “I’m going to try to pry the door open. When the water’s two feet below, we start tossing out whatever we can’t carry. It should float and if it doesn’t, well, we know how to dive.”
“Damn straight, brother, but we shouldn’t have to. I found some rope. I was able to tie most of the luggage together. I’ll haul it in.” Lan’s pre
vious nerves had morphed into pure, grade-A special ops arrogance.
That was exactly what they needed because they didn’t have anything left except for the stubborn belief that nothing and no one could take them down.
Dane stood at the door, braced himself, and threw it open. He stared down into the blue void below and prayed their stubborn arrogance was enough.
* * * *
Alea felt her stomach roll, but forced the bile back down. She’d never particularly loved flying, even when she’d learned how to do it. She’d taken the lessons for the same reason she did everything; it had been expected of her. Her cousins had learned, so she had, too, even when her hands had shaken. Even when everything in her body had screamed at her to stay on the ground. She’d conquered her fear and learned to fly.
Now she was going to learn how to crash.
Cooper’s concentration was absolute. After the first couple of minutes, he’d settled in and was now nothing but cocky confidence. “Brace yourself, baby. We’re going to hit the water hard.”
She settled into the seat beside him and strapped herself down. On the horizon, she saw a tiny piece of land, yet another green jewel in a sea of blue. They would land as close to that little patch as possible.
Her hands shook. Nerves. Stress. God, she’d been given some kind of drug. She hated drugs. She’d fought so hard to get off them. She wanted to shove her fingers down her throat just to purge the rest out of her system. Now wasn’t the time. Everything was still a little hazy, but she could remember plastering herself all over Dane. But she’d deal with that humiliation later.
Dumb slut. No one wants you. When the money runs out, we’ll just kill you and no one will miss you. You’re worthless.
God, she hated those voices, but they were always in her head, just waiting for the perfect time to start replaying and take her down. When she heard them, she just went to bed with her iPod on and her ear buds firmly in place. And she tried to forget. She couldn’t do that now. She had to stay in the present.
No, more than that. She had to be useful. Alea refused to be another piece of luggage they had to haul around. They would do it. They would really put her on their backs and swim so they didn’t leave her behind.
God, these men of steel with iron will and big hearts, would never leave her behind. Would they if they knew the things she’d survived? Probably. They would save her if only because they were good to their cores. And they would feel sorry for her.
They couldn’t know the whole truth. She wouldn’t be able to stand their pity.
Cooper fought with the yoke, trying to angle the plane to ensure their best chance at survival.
A loud bang shot through the little plane.
“Dane? Lan?” She started to tear off her seat belt. She had to help them.
Cooper didn’t look away from the horizon. “Stop right there, Princess. They’re fine. I bet Dane just blew the door. That shit-ass island doesn’t come equipped with a runway. I can’t put us down on land. The trees are too thick. Unless… Baby, go back and sit with Dane.”
Her jaw dropped. Alea knew damn well what he was planning, and it wasn’t happening. “Yeah, sure. I’ll leave this seat when you land. In the water.”
His jaw tightened. The plane jerked again. “It would be best if I set us down on land. That way you’ll have the plane to take refuge in, and the metal can be seen from above.”
“I’m not stupid, Cooper. The chance of the cockpit not folding in and killing everyone inside is miniscule if you take us into those trees. I’m staying where I am.” He wouldn’t play the martyr if it meant killing her, too. No way. No how.
Yes, they would lose the plane, but they would all have a shot at living.
And suddenly she knew deep down how significant that was. The question had floated through her head for a long time, since the moment she’d been taken…was living really important? She’d fought to survive in Colombia, but mostly because instinct had urged her. The human animal fought for its life, for the right to continue breathing from one moment to the next. But Alea had wondered in the darkest recesses of her soul whether she actually wanted to live. Because living was more than taking her next breath. Living meant being brave. Living meant taking chances.
Yes. She wanted to live.
She wanted a chance to be like the woman she’d once been, a little bold, mostly unafraid. She couldn’t go back in time, but she could move forward. In some ways, she’d never really left the dank, filthy cell of her captivity. Piper had been right.
It was time to shed the pathetic Alea who had hidden in her room, burying her head in the sand and building walls around herself to keep out everyone who tried to help her. She needed the Alea she’d been before, the one who strove to be the best, studied the hardest, helped those around her. That Alea had been in a coma, but it was time for her to wake the fuck up. She might not deserve a shot at happiness, but she wanted one.
“I’m not moving, Coop.” She wouldn’t leave any one of them to die the way she’d left that girl. Gritting her teeth, she shoved the image away. “So you better set us down easy.”
“Damn it, Lea. One of these days—soon—I’m going to spank your ass bright red.” Cooper pulled the yoke and the nose came up again.
The plane shuddered. She braced herself. He would let the tail touch to slow them down. That’s what she would do in his place. They wanted the plane to float for as long as possible.
Time seemed to speed up as the island loomed closer and closer. Distance and time meshed together in a horrifying carnival ride. The sound of the plane screamed against her ears, blocking out the rest of the world. The skyline tilted, a brief flash of greens and browns. Then she was thrown back. Alea’s head slammed against the headrest as the plane went almost vertical. It stood there for one terrifying moment and then belly flopped, striking the water with bone-jarring force.
“Let’s move, Princess.” Cooper had hit his head at some point. A thin trickle of blood streamed down his face, but he moved with surety, unbuckling his belt, then her own. “We’ll have to swim for it.”
Yes, but they were alive.
She nodded and jumped up. The plane was bobbing in the waves, white foam cresting up the window.
“You’re hurt.” As soon as they reached land, she needed to dress and clean that wound, stop the bleeding. Infection was their enemy, so she had to prevent it. She had antibiotic ointment in her first aid kit.
“Coop? You two okay?” Dane staggered to the doorway, his big body taking up all the space. Alea wanted nothing more than to throw herself into those strong arms and hold him, but they had to hit the water and swim for land.
“We’re good, but we won’t float forever. If we’re getting stuff off this plane, we need to do it now. Come on, Lea. We’ve got to move.” Cooper turned her, pressing her toward Dane.
She nearly tripped over the body of the pilot. She forced her gaze away from the dead man and allowed Dane to pull her into the cabin. The door was open, and Landon was already in the water, surrounded by pieces of luggage and bags he’d tied together forming a long train of survival gear.
“It’s a good five hundred yards to the beach,” Lan shouted up. “I swam out a little. There’s a beast of an undertow.”
She wasn’t the greatest swimmer in the world and she was still hazier than she’d like. Dane had one of the cushions in his hand and he’d used some rope to tie it around her, placing the cushion on her back. “Swim as long as you can. When you get tired, flip over on your back and I’ll drag you in. Just keep your head up and lose the shoes, baby. There’s no need for Prada here.”
Alea slipped out of the shoes, her hands shaking despite the heat she felt shimmering outside. Dane dove into the water, then she stepped forward. Landon was starting for shore, dragging the train of luggage behind him. It looked like he’d tied the rope around his waist. His body moved swiftly despite the undertow, showing no signs that the added weight held him back at all.
Dan
e surfaced, slicking his hair back and holding a hand up for her to join him. Despite the horrors of the last few minutes, he paused to encourage her. “Come on in. The water’s warm.”
The water was also a clear, crystal blue. As she stood in the doorway, she could see down into the water, despite its depth. A coral reef lurked below. She couldn’t tell how far down it was, but it was farther than Dane’s kicking feet. That had to be good enough.
“Go on, Lea,” Cooper said. “The water is about to start coming in the door. Once that happens, the plane will sink fast. Go!”
Alea sucked in a deep breath and jumped. In seconds, warm water surrounded her. Almost immediately she felt the floatation device around her waist yank her to the surface as surely as Dane’s hands. He helped her right her body and pushed the wet hair from her face.
Deep blue eyes stared into her own, silently demanding her focus. “Stay with us. I’m going to tether us together so you can’t drift off.”
In the distance, Landon was almost to the shore. Cooper splashed in behind her, then came to her side. Dane swam to the other, and together, they started for the shore. Alea kept pace, not wanting to fall behind or drag them down. She looked back, but only briefly saw as the plane that was supposed to take her to freedom began to sink to its watery grave.
She stared forward resolutely. She’d brought them into her nightmare. She wasn’t going to let them down.
Chapter Seven
As the sun started to sink over the horizon, Cooper thought about running from Alea. And then he thought about it again. But the truth of the matter was, she would only find him. And she’d only be more pissed off.
“Don’t move. I just want to clean it.” She walked up to him with a small red kit in her hands.
According to Cooper’s watch, two hours had passed since the plane had sunk below the surface and into the ocean. In two hours they’d managed to build a fire, gather palm fronds and bamboo for an eventual shelter, and scout around what was now their base camp. The island was tiny. It had taken Landon a whole twenty minutes to jog the circumference.
THEIR_VIRGIN_PRINCESS Page 12