Flight to Destiny (A Samantha Starr Thriller, Book 2)

by S. L. Menear

  The man smiled and offered his hand. “Lord Colin Covington, at your service. Can you stand?”

  Suzanne wiped the snow from her face with shaky hands. “I think so. I can’t believe I survived.” She shivered as she reached for him.

  “Can’t say I expected to meet a beautiful woman in a place like this.” He grinned, unfastened her jumpseat harness, and pulled her from the wreckage. “What’s your name?”

  Her legs buckled, but Colin caught her and held her close.

  “Suzanne.”

  Blood trickled from her scalp.

  “You’re all right now, Suzanne, I’ve got you.”

  “The babies! We must find them!” Her body shook as she focused on his face and fainted.

  Several men crowded around Colin and Suzanne.

  Colin lifted her unconscious body in his arms as he spoke to the head Sherpa. “Call for help and look for babies. They might be in or near the tail cone.”

  He carried her into a warm tent where hot water boiled in a pot on a portable gas stove. He laid her on a cot and tended minor wounds on her head, arms, and legs after covering her with a wool blanket and applying an oxygen mask from a pony bottle.

  Minutes later, she opened her eyes. He filled a mug with steaming water and added a tea bag, a spoonful of honey, and a shot of whisky. Colin smiled to reassure her as he propped her up with pillows and removed the oxygen mask so she could drink.

  Shaking, she gasped. “The babies—”

  “Relax, Suzanne, I bandaged some cuts where shrapnel must have sliced through your uniform coat and pants. Nothing serious.” He lifted the cup to her lips. “Here, this will warm you. I’ll hold it. Now, how many people should we be looking for?”

  She sipped the hot tea. “Probably just the three babies. Their parents got sucked out at altitude.” She sighed. “Thank you. I froze during my terrifying slide.”

  She took a few more sips. “No other passengers, just the two pilots and me.” She bit her lower lip. “I doubt they survived.”

  “What happened?”

  “We lost both engines and crashed. The 767 broke apart. It was horrible. The front half fell straight down a mountain.”

  She took another sip and fought back tears. “My employers were sucked out the aft cabin when the aircraft broke in two. Their babies may have survived, but the white survival pod they’re in is small and will be difficult to see in the snow.”

  “It’s most likely equipped with an emergency locator transmitter. The airplane will have one too. That should help find the crew.”

  “The ELT is in the tail section where I was. The pod’s ELT might not work because we crashed in a dead zone. If the babies are there, no one may find them in time.”

  The head Sherpa entered the tent. “Help is on the way. How is she?”

  “She’s fine but worried about the others. They crashed in a dead zone.”

  The Sherpa’s round brown face paled. “I have heard dark legends about the forbidden zone. Nothing electronic works there. Compasses spin. Those who venture there never return.” His voice turned somber as he looked at Suzanne. “Sorry for your loss.” He turned and left the tent.

  Secret Enclave

  The sound of several splashes followed by a thud carried through the heavy mist to the king’s ears.

  He led a group of ten unusually tall men in hooded black robes and cautiously approached a strange egg-shaped object on the lakeshore.

  “It’s wet, as though it skipped across the lake like a stone before it slid into the sand,” he said.

  The king, wearing a gold crown imbedded with tridents and jeweled images of the sun, moon, and fire, bent over and opened the pod.

  He straightened. “The Three have arrived!”

  Warm fog swirled over the baby girls as they breathed fresh air.

  The king spoke in a solemn voice. “On this winter solstice, the ancient prophecy has been set in motion. Our destiny is forevermore entwined with The Three. Twenty-four years hence our exile will end, and Atlantis will rise again when the Goddesses of Sun, Moon, and Fire reach their age of full power and awaken Poseidon’s Sword.”

  His bony fingers reached down toward the babies.

  The king lifted Solraya above his head. “And the Golden Twin of the Sun Goddess will appear the year before the Sword and activate the Key. She will be a great asset to The Three. Praise Poseidon!”

  “Praise Poseidon!” the men echoed.

  The king’s wrinkled face was filled with hope as he placed the little goddesses in a wooden hand carriage adorned with the same images as his crown.

  The men lifted the carriage by its solid-gold, trident-shaped handles and carried the infants toward an obsidian pyramid towering in the eerie mist.

  One

  September 28, Craigervie, Scotland

  SAS Captain Ross Sinclair was unlike any man I’d ever known—laird of the Sinclair clan and a good, honorable man who served his country in the UK’s elite Special Forces. I never thought Ross, who the prime minister of the UK had sent to kill me, would become my boyfriend.

  That was two months ago, and a lot had happened since then.

  Ever since my deadly encounter with an evil group of men bent on wiping out nine noble bloodlines and framing the Irish Republican Army, I’d been vigilant. One of their hired assassins, a former Spetsnaz soldier named Nicolai Vasiliev, survived a knife wound and a long fall into a river. I threw him into that river, and Ross’s soldiers killed the three men on Nicolai’s team.

  Revenge was expected.

  Ross and I had sustained injuries almost seven weeks ago during the height of my Highlands adventure, which began during a month-long August vacation in Scotland. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Now our gunshot wounds were healed, my medical leave with Luxury International Airlines was about to end, and so was my steamy one-month stay with Ross. We were headed to an intimate farewell dinner party hosted by my mom’s boyfriend, Laird Duncan MacLeod.

  Ross drove his black Aston Martin Vanquish on the narrow curving road to MacLeod Castle as I scanned the rock formations and bushes for possible attackers.

  We passed under the stone arch emblazoned with the MacLeod coat of arms and followed the tree-lined drive to the imposing castle perched on a cliff overlooking the North Sea. Ross parked in front of ancient stone steps and maneuvered his six-foot-three-inch body out of the sleek sports car.

  He strode around the car, opened my door, and pulled me close for a kiss. A brisk September wind swirled around his kilt and my cocktail dress as we climbed the stairs.

  I squeezed his arm. “Thanks for wearing the kilt instead of your uniform. I like it when you dress like a Highlander.”

  “My pleasure, lass. Anything to keep that lust in your eyes.” He chuckled.

  “I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye tonight, but you know I don’t want to lose my airline pilot job.”

  “If someone had told me last month I’d be sad to see Samantha Starr leave Scotland, I’d have laughed in his face. Now I don’t ever want you to leave.” His deep aristocratic brogue kept my heart blazing and distracted me from thoughts of Nicolai.

  The massive oak door creaked open, and my mom side-stepped around the butler.

  “Good, you’re here. Duncan’s in the great hall.” She smiled and smoothed her shoulder-length blond hair, looking elegant in her little black dress.

  Ross hugged her. “Hello, Loren, and how are you on this fine Highlands evening?”

  “I’m not happy about leaving Scotland, but I plan to return soon. Duncan and I need more time together now that we no longer have to worry about my darling daughter.” She hugged me.

  “I suspect Sam’s the sort of daughter you’ll always have to worry about. Danger seems to follow her wherever she goes.” He winked.

  “Hey, that’s not fair!” I punched his muscular arm as we entered the expansive foyer.

  “Really? What about the two bombs that exploded on your 767 a couple of m
onths ago?”

  “That wasn’t my fault.”

  “Then you came to Scotland and got caught in the middle of an international plot that could have started a war. We were both shot twice.” He touched the scars on his thigh and shoulder.

  “Now, now, children, behave!” Mom crossed her arms and smiled.

  I couldn’t help sounding defensive. “Our wounds weren’t serious, just grazes, except for the through and through in your thigh. That took a little longer to heal.”

  “That’s because I busted open the stitches when I rescued you yet again.”

  “Yes, but I rescued you when we first met, remember?” I grinned.

  Ross raised an eyebrow, ignoring my distraction ploy. “What I remember is the psychotic assassin who wants to kill you. I wouldn’t count on being safe until he’s caught.”

  “Nicolai wants to kill you too. Maybe you should come to America with me.”

  “Sorry, lass, my commanding officer has other plans for me.”

  Mom’s boyfriend sauntered into the foyer, and I reached out for a hug. As tall as Ross and sixteen years older, he looked dashing in his kilt ensemble with the MacLeod coat of arms on the navy blazer.

  “Thank you for the bon voyage party last night with all my new Scottish friends and this farewell dinner for the four of us, Duncan.”

  “You and your mother transformed my boring retirement into a life of exciting adventure, like my days with the Special Air Service, but with beautiful women.” He smiled and kissed my hand. “Come along, I have your favorite wine.”

  He led us across the polished stone floor and into the great hall, an enormous dining room.

  Heavy iron chandeliers and firelight from sixteen-foot high stone hearths at each end bathed the room in golden light. Centuries-old portraits covered the long walls. I recognized a portrait titled, Duncan MacLeod, 14th Laird of Clan MacLeod. His electric blue eyes and chiseled features matched the clan chieftain on the cover of my famous mother’s most recent medieval romance novel.

  A hand-carved oak table large enough to seat forty-four dominated the room. Place settings for four were clustered at one end. When we were seated, the butler poured red wine into four glasses.

  “I’d love to see my daughter’s sword again. You’ll need to take it out of the safe anyway so she can take it home,” Mom said.

  I turned to Duncan. “Thanks for keeping it for me. Can Baxter bring it to the table?”

  He summoned the butler. A few minutes later, Baxter returned with a long red leather case and placed it in front of me.

  Inside was a hand-crafted sword with a jeweled hilt. Inscribed on the blade: Sir Lady Samantha, First Knight of the Order of Boadicea.

  “I sure never expected this when I decided to take a vacation in Scotland.” I glanced around the table at the smiling faces and slid the box across to Mom.

  She caressed the jeweled hilt. “It’s so beautiful, a true work of art.”

  “It’s well deserved.” Ross leaned over to kiss the top of my head. “After all, you did save nine noble bloodlines and prevent a war in Northern Ireland.”

  I blushed. “Since that nightmare ended, I’ve certainly enjoyed my stay in beautiful Scotland.”

  “Where else would we find men who live in real castles?” Mom grinned.

  “Aye, and Ross’s castle has a moat.” Duncan’s eyes twinkled. “I heard he keeps crocodiles in there.”

  We laughed as steak Diane was served with steamed vegetables and new potatoes. The aroma of baked rolls filled the air, and our wine glasses were kept filled with Opus One, my favorite blended red wine.

  “Too bad your twin brothers couldn’t stay long enough for this final dinner with us,” Ross said, his deep-blue eyes on me. “I enjoyed sharing my military missions with them.”

  “Unfortunately, the Navy wanted them back. Matt and Mike told me they enjoyed accompanying your SAS teams.” I couldn’t resist another sip. The wine was so smooth. “They mentioned something about free drinks for life from the Brits.”

  Ross grinned. “Aye, they earned it when Mike saved my men from drowning in that downed helicopter in the North Sea.”

  The two hours over dinner passed too quickly. Mom and I went upstairs to change clothes for the flight home.

  After I pulled on my jeans and sweater, I packed my dress and walked across the hall to her room.

  “Mom, there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you, but we haven’t had a moment alone. I think I had a vision on my flight to Scotland last month.”

  “Sam, honey, I warned you this happens to females in our family when they reach their mid-twenties.”

  “Yes, but I assumed it was another nightmare about Mark’s murder because one of the boys in my dream looked like him. But there were nine boys, all alive, and later I found them in a cave like the one in my dream.”

  “Welcome to the club.” Mom hugged me. “I’m glad you don’t have nightmares about your little brother anymore. His murder was a long time ago, and it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Maybe, but I can’t help thinking I might have saved him if I’d been there.”

  “Please don’t give it another thought, Sam. You can’t change fate.” She hesitated. “You probably don’t remember my best friend, Sheila Conor. You were only three when she was in a plane crash in the Himalayas with her husband and triplet daughters. Their bodies were never found.”

  “I have a vague memory of her. I think I used to call her Aunt Sheila.”

  “Yes, you did.” Her eyes filled with sadness. “Sheila also had visions. We looked so much alike, people thought we were sisters. I remember thinking you and her blond triplet looked like sisters too.”

  Baxter knocked on the open door. “Ready to go, ladies?” He picked up our luggage.

  I followed Mom down the stairs and into the great hall. A force drew me to the portrait that I knew hid the lever for a secret passage. My head tingled with strange energy.

  “Duncan, I feel compelled to enter your secret passageway.”

  Mom nodded. “I feel a pull too.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Which passage?”

  I tilted my head and closed my eyes. “Not the one you and Mom used last month to the stables—the other passage that you told me leads down to the sea.”

  “That passage has steep curving stone steps down a hundred and forty meters. It’s a long trek and a difficult climb back up. Sure you want to do this right now?”

  Before I could answer, Duncan’s stable boy entered and offered me a small gift-wrapped box. “Miss Starr, this is for you. It was delivered to the Highlander Inn.”

  Ross took it from my hands. “Not so fast, lass.” He turned to the boy. “Who sent this?”

  “Don’t know, sir. It was left at the front desk.” He stepped back and glanced at Duncan.

  Ross lifted the box to his ear. “No ticking, sounds like liquid. Did you bring it here on your bicycle?”

  “Aye, sir, in the front basket. It jostled a bit, but nothing broke.”

  Ross glanced at his former commanding officer. “Duncan, whatever it is should be stable. Best I take it outside and have a look.”

  “Steady as you go then. I’ll keep everyone inside until you sound the all clear.”

  I ducked around Duncan to block Ross. “Toss it over the cliff or give it to Scotland Yard. No way am I losing you over some stupid box!”

  “Don’t worry, lass, I’m trained for this. Wait here.” He gave me a light kiss and nudged me aside.

  Duncan closed the door behind Ross, and I ran to the window. In the fading light, I watched him edge along the cliff and place the box on a boulder.

  I glanced at Duncan. “Doesn’t he need tools for this?”

  “He has a skean dhu. That should be sufficient.”

  “A what?”

  He pointed to a knife inside his sock. “A dagger.”

  As if cued, Ross drew a dagger from his right knee sock. I held my breath as he slit the wrapping paper and o
pened the box.

  He lifted something out and looked at it, then stood still for a moment. He placed it back in the box and made a call on his mobile phone before returning.

  When he walked in, his expression spoke for him. His clenched jaw, the fire in his eyes—whatever was in that box wasn’t good.

  “Baxter, bolt the door and keep everyone away from the windows. Duncan, a word?” Ross walked into the great hall.

  Mom and I waited in tense silence in the foyer with the butler, maid, and stable boy. Ross and Duncan soon returned.

  “Duncan and I agreed you and Loren should see this even though it’ll upset you. We want to impress upon you the gravity of the situation so you’ll remember to be careful when you return to America.” Ross held up a glass jar full of clear liquid.

  A human eyeball floated inside.

  Written on the lid: YOU’RE NEXT!

  I gasped. “Nicolai’s here!”

  “Nicolai sent this as a scare tactic.” A hard tone laced Ross’s voice. “Remember, he tried to cut out your left eye before you flipped him over the cliff.”

  “How could I forget? If Charlie hadn’t buried a knife in Nicolai’s back—”

  “Oh my God! That monster wants my daughter’s eye!” Mom couldn’t stop looking at the bobbing eyeball.

  Duncan pulled her close. “We’ll protect you and Sam.”

  My heart raced and my gut twisted as I flashed back to the scar-faced giant holding a combat knife an inch from my eye.

  “Why aren’t we getting weapons? He could be right outside the door!” My voice was an octave higher as I glanced from Ross to Duncan.

  “Baxter went to the armory when he saw the jar. Here he comes now.” Duncan nodded in his direction.

  Baxter, a former SAS soldier under Duncan’s command, was carrying a duffle bag that looked heavy. “Shall I set it on the table in the great hall?”

  Duncan nodded. “Aye, we’ll hand out the weapons while we wait for Ross’s men.”

  “I called for a Super Lynx with a combat team. We’ll remain inside the castle until they arrive.” Ross checked the magazine on an MP7 submachine gun he lifted from the bag.