by Jake Bible
He walked over to a wet bar and opened a small fridge, tossing Kinsey a mini bottle of water. She caught it, surprisingly, but just set it aside.
“That’s what you get to take the edge off,” Thorne said as he went back to his seat. “So settle in and just enjoy the flight.”
Kinsey didn’t argue. But she didn’t open the water either, just folded her arms across her chest and leaned back into the seat. She didn’t know where they were going after Miami and she didn’t care. As soon as the door opened on the tarmac, she planned on making a break for it. She knew a guy in South Beach that could hook her up. Money didn’t matter, not for a California girl like her. Bat her eyelashes and show a little boob and she’d be high as a motherfucking kite by sunrise.
That’s what she told herself. But as the plane flew on and the minutes felt like hours, she had to wonder if she’d make it. Did she know the guy’s number? He’d have to pick her up at the airport. She would have to have something waiting for her in Miami when they landed. Her skin was on fire and she felt like it was going to split apart and crawl off her body, slinking away into a dark corner of the plane.
“Can we turn off the lights?” Kinsey asked. “It’s bright in here.”
“The lights are on so we can see you, Sis,” Shane replied. “Not about to stay in the dark with you.”
“Turn the fucking lights off!” she yelled.
“Leave them,” Thorne said, his eyes closed. “Light is good for you. You’ve been in the dark for too long.”
“Fucking show you the dark, old man,” Kinsey mumbled.
“Hungry?” Max asked. “There’s some peanuts. The salt and protein will do you good.”
“Is that what you think after swallowing some guy’s load, asshole?” Kinsey snapped.
“You’d know,” Max smiled, “I’m guessing you’re a bit of a connoisseur when it comes to cum swallowing.”
“That’s enough of that,” Thorne said, working hard not to think about the reality of that statement. “We’ll be landing in a few minutes. Shut the fuck up until then.”
The pilot came over the intercom just after that and announced their descent. They landed on a private airstrip just north of Miami proper. As soon as the plane came to a stop, Kinsey jumped to her feet.
“I’m gonna stretch my legs,” she said as the pilot opened the cabin door, “just for a second.”
“Sit,” Thorne said as he passed her, pushing her back into her seat, “we’re only here to refuel and pick up the rest of the Team.”
“Rest of the Team?” Kinsey asked, her nails working furiously at a scab by her wrist. “What Team? Where are we going?”
“Need to know,” Thorne said, “and you don’t need to know yet.”
Max followed Thorne out the door and down the short set of steps.
“Who are we picking up?” Max asked.
“Pilot and a gunner,” Thorne said, “used to be HITRON in the Coast Guard, but both got booted after filing a complaint against their chief.”
“What’d he do?” Max asked.
“Tried to fuck them both,” Thorne said as he spotted two women walking towards them. “They weren’t cool with that.”
“No shit,” Max said as the women, gear slung over their shoulders, walked up and both offered their hands.
“Roberta La Pierre,” the first woman said as Thorne took her hand and gave it a strong shake. Five five and 120 pounds, long black hair with widely spaced brown eyes, she was attractive in a way neither men could have expressed. It could have been the way she held herself- confident, secure, strong. “Call me Bobby.”
“Bobby, this is my nephew, Max Reynolds,” Thorne said. “Max and his brother are our snipers.”
“Already have a gunner,” Bobby said, nodding to the woman next to her.
“Lucretia Durning,” the woman said, shaking hands with the men. “Lucy. I’m the gunner to her pilot.”
Lucy was nearly six feet tall, wide at the shoulder, and had a head of shockingly red hair. Her face was covered in dark freckles that showed even in the night. She smiled at Max and gave him a nod- shooter to shooter then frowned as she got a better look at his face.
“Where’d you get that?” Lucy asked.
“IED. Afghanistan,” he replied.
“Bummer,” Lucy said, “got a brother missing both legs because of an IED.”
“HITRON, right?” Max asked, changing the subject. “So you know the .50 caliber pretty well then?”
Lucy lifted the large duffel bag she held and patted it. “Got mine right here.”
Thorne looked back and motioned to the pilot that was standing at the top of the plane’s steps. He came down quickly and took the bag from Lucy, stowing it in the baggage compartment under the plane. He then came back and took Bobby’s bag.
“You said to pack light,” Bobby said, “that we’d have access to gear when we landed?”
“That’s what I have been told,” Thorne said. “I’ll tell you the rest on the flight. We have about thirty-six hours of flying to do before we get to our destination.”
“Which is?” Lucy asked.
“Cape Town,” Thorne replied. “There, we’ll meet our employer and get our kits together. If what I’ve been told is true, then we’ll have some time in Cape Town to go shopping.”
“Sky’s the limit,” Max said, smiling broadly.
“Really?” Bobby laughed. “So we can just bop down to the South African Wal-Mart and pick up a MH-65 Dolphin?”
“No need,” Thorne said, “one will be waiting for you.”
“Sweet,” Lucy said, “let’s get going.”
“Just one second,” Thorne said. There was a large crash inside the plane and he winced as everyone else looked towards the cabin door. “There’s a complication I should warn you about.”
“MOTHER FUCKER! LET ME GO!” echoed from the plane.
“That’s my daughter,” Thorne said, “she’s had some substance issues, but we are getting her straight. The worst is over, though.”
“Not even close,” Max said. “The worst has yet to come. This is going to be a bumpy ride.”
“Always is,” Bobby said.
“No shit,” Lucy said as the two women walked confidently to the stairs and up into the plane.
“What do you mean the worst has yet to come?” Thorne said. “Sure, she’s being a bitch, but we can ignore that.”
“Can you ignore the sweating? The vomiting? The diarrhea? That’s what’s next,” Max said. “She will convince you she’s dying and you’ll believe her because in a way, she will be. We have two objectives on this flight: make sure she doesn’t hurt the plane, and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.”
“I’m guessing you left off the third objective of making sure she doesn’t hurt us for a reason,” Thorne said.
“Because we will be getting hurt,” Max said. “You know how Kinsey fights. Jesus, she used to kick the shit out of me when we were kids. Now she’s a trained Marine and almost a SEAL. I have zero illusions that any of us will get out of this without some serious bruises.”
“So maybe the third objective should be not to let her kill us,” Thorne said.
“I think that’s a given,” Max said, then sighed as Kinsey let out a bloodcurdling scream. “Let’s get this party started.”
The time on the flight was mostly spent waiting for Kinsey to do one of three things: fall asleep, stop screaming, or shit herself before she could hit the head. The Team Thorne had put together quickly bonded over the detoxing of one Kinsey Marie Thorne. They took shifts, making sure someone was awake and watching her at all times, and that someone was awake and watching the person that was supposed to be watching her.
When they landed in Morocco to refuel, Kinsey made a break for it. But was quickly put down by Lucy with a hard punch to the gut. Unfortunately for all, that led to Kinsey evacuating her bowels right there in the cabin. The smell of rancid junkie shit was stuck in everyone’s noses the entire second leg of
the flight, no matter how much air freshener they sprayed.
The moment the plane was wheels down on the tarmac in Cape Town, there was a mad dash to get outside and into the fresh air. And despite the fact she had a 100 degree fever and looked like death warmed over, Kinsey was the first at the cabin door. Thorne wasn’t too worried, since he’d radioed ahead to warn those waiting of what was to come.
“Get me the fuck off this plane!” Kinsey yelled.
The pilot unlocked the cabin door and extended the stairs; Kinsey bolted into the South African afternoon, her face held up to the warm sun. The rest of the Team walked down after her, wary and cautious. A long black van was parked near the plane and Darren was seated in the passenger side, his arms resting on his legs as he watched them from the open door.
“Welcome to South Africa,” Darren said, getting up and walking towards them, “you guys are a sight for sore eyes.”
Kinsey’s breath stopped and her eyes shot open at the sound of his voice.
“Good to see you, ‘Sey,” Darren said.
“Go fuck yourself, ‘Ren,” Kinsey replied.
“That would be my job,” Bobby said as she walked past them all and into Darren’s arms. “Hey there, stranger.”
“Hey back,” Darren said.
The kiss between them was not meant to be subtle.
“So that’s why he insisted on the women,” Shane said.
“He insisted because we’re the best interceptors in the fucking world,” Lucy said, “you’ll see.”
“This is going to get complicated quick,” Max said.
“No fucking shit,” Thorne replied as he watched the stunned look on his daughter’s face.
“No fucking way,” Kinsey said, backing towards the plane’s stairs. “Get me the fuck back on that plane!” She then promptly turned and puked all over the tarmac.
Chapter Four: The Beowulf II
The twelve-passenger van wasn’t close to full with everyone in it, so Kinsey was given her own bench seat at the back. She curled up on the seat, her legs tucked up against her chest, and closed her eyes, hoping that the pain and nausea would stop. But she knew better. You didn’t become a junkie without knowing other junkies. And when in the company of junkies, you meet those that have tried to get clean.
She knew she had a few more days of hell before she’d even get close to seeing the other side.
Which made her wonder why her father had brought her. She could hear the others talking, knew they were driving to a different part of the airfield that held the Dolphin helicopter, which would fly them out to the ship that was already steaming up the African coast towards Somalia. Papers were passed around that everyone had to sign; classic NDAs (non-disclosure agreements) that made sure they didn’t talk to anyone about what they were doing.
That was where things got vague. Darren refused to go into detail about the job, just kept telling them that their employer would explain everything once they were onboard the ship. No one liked the lack of intel, but from what Kinsey could make out, the pay was so good none of them really cared. They were professionals and were used to need to know scenarios.
So why bring her? Kinsey kept looping back to that thought, between the shivers and small convulsions that wracked her body. A small Team was all that was needed and her cousins, with her father, plus Darren and the Coast Guard women, were enough for simple missions. Then there was the driver, some woman that looked to Kinsey like she could chew them all up and spit them out without breaking wind. They didn’t need a junkie in withdrawal, fucking things up.
As the van pulled to a stop, Kinsey wished they’d just leave her; let her die in the back of the van and end her misery. The thought of getting on a helo, then on a ship for the next few days made her want to retch. And she didn’t have anything left in her stomach to retch.
“Holy shit,” Kinsey heard Bobby say as the van doors opened, “that’s not a 65-D, is it?”
“Not even a 65-E,” Darren replied. “Next gen 65-F. Coast Guard hasn’t even seen this model. Our employer has deep pockets and doesn’t mind emptying them on us. Wait until you see the Beowulf II.”
“What happened to the Beowulf I?” Max asked.
“Good fucking question,” Darren said. “Darby? Care to chime in on that?”
“No,” Darby said, “we don’t talk about that.”
“Fair enough,” Darren said, cutting off Max before he could ask more questions. “Let’s get the gear onboard and lift off. We have some space to cover before we rendezvous with the ship.”
“No shopping?” Max asked.
“Everything we need is on board already,” Darren replied.
“Can’t wait to fly that,” Bobby said.
“No can do, baby,” Darren responded. “You all signed NDAs, but you haven’t signed your full employment contracts or liability waivers. Until then, you are guests. Darby will fly, but you can ride co-pilot and check the panels out.”
“Not cool, Chambers,” Bobby growled.
“Best I can do until I’s are dotted and T’s are crossed,” Darren replied.
“Sis?” Shane asked. “You awake?”
Kinsey opened her eyes and looked up at the face of her cousin.
“Yeah,” she replied as he helped her sit up, “Rip, roaring, and ready.”
“Good,” Thorne said, pushing Shane out of the way. “Time to get a move on. Hump your ass into that helo and let’s go.”
“Love you too, Daddy,” Kinsey said as she got out of the van, her legs shaky and loose. “Can’t wait to spend the next few days with you.”
“Weeks,” Darren said, “we’ll be gone for weeks.”
“I thought it only took eight days to get to the target?” Shane asked.
“Yeah, what’s this about weeks?” Lucy asked.
“It’ll all be explained when we get to the ship,” Darren said, “until then, just kick back and enjoy the view. Sun should be coming up any minute now. It’ll be spectacular.”
“Thank God,” Kinsey said as she staggered over to the helo. “I don’t know if I can make it without seeing a spectacular sunrise. Woo hoo!”
The gear was transferred from the van to the helo and Darby boarded and started her pre-flight countdown. Bobby got in next to her and assisted so she could learn the differences between the 65-F and the 65-C she was accustomed to. The one main difference that everyone noticed was the helo was painted matte black, and not the usual red and white the US Coast Guard used.
“Wyrm?” Lucy asked, pointing to the words painted on the tail.
“Yep,” Darren smiled, “our employer named it. Paint dried on the flight over here.” He looked at everyone and opened the side doors. “Gonna be a tight squeeze with the gear, so jam in, folks. And we need to hustle or the ship will be out of range. I’d hate to ditch this bird in the drink before the job even starts.”
For emphasis, Darby started the motors and the rotors began to turn and come to life. Everyone hauled themselves inside and got secured. The Dolphin was meant for a crew of four, but could hold up to ten if needed, including the pilot and co-pilot. Meant mainly for short range missions by the Coast Guard, the MH-65 was used by the HITRON (Helicopter Interdiction Tactical Squadron) unit to take down possible terrorist threats to the US, which included drug smuggling. It was fast, maneuverable, and in the hands of the right pilot and gunner, a deadly bird of prey.
Shoulder to shoulder, everyone strapped in and hung on as the helo lifted into the air. Slowly, as the helo made its way east, the sun started to peak over the horizon. Those that had sunglasses handy put them on, the rest squinted. Kinsey just moaned, unable to handle even the sunlight that filtered through her eyelids. She wrapped an arm over her face and leaned her head back.
“Grab some shut eye if you can,” Darren said over the com, “we have about two hours of flying before we get to the Beowulf II.”
Everyone heard him through the headphones they wore and the SEALs of the Team instantly closed their eyes
and were out in seconds. It was a skill all SEALs learned to cultivate: sleep whenever and wherever you could. Lucy looked at the three sleeping men and shrugged, closed her eyes, and joined them. Kinsey was in too much agony to sleep, although she felt exhausted. Her body was numb, yet full of fire at the same time. She wouldn’t have been able to explain it even if she wanted to.
Expecting Darren to be asleep with the rest of the former SEALs, Kinsey braved opening her eyes to get a look at him. She regretted it as soon as she saw his eyes locked onto hers. There was so much said in those eyes that Kinsey wanted to scream at him, but that would have split her head open, so she just glared. Or thought she glared, she couldn’t tell if her body was obeying. Darren gave her a weak smile, and then turned and looked out the window.
Time dragged on and Kinsey thought she’d go insane from the constant drone of the rotors. Not to mention the intense snoring of her cousins; they were both almost as loud as the Wyrm. Just as she was about to lose her shit and shove her cousins out the doors, Darby’s voice came over the com.
“There she is,” Darby said, “one minute to landing.”
The rest of the Team stirred and stretched as much as they could in the cramped space. They turned and looked out at the ship that was steaming along in the bright blue water below.
“Holy fuck,” Max said, “that’s a research vessel? Where have I seen that before?”
“Looks like the RV Falkour,” Shane responded, “that ship that Google financed.”
“Close,” Darren said. “It’s a sister ship, of sorts, but highly modified for our needs. And about five meters longer to accommodate the extra helipad and the mini-sub on the stern.”
“It has a mini-sub?” Max asked. “Cool.”
“Yeah,” Darren grinned, “I haven’t had a chance to get out in it. That’ll be part of the training the next few days for some of you.” He pointed as they swung around to land on the foremost helipad. “Two full Zodiacs, one on each side, next to the lifeboats.”