The Ultimate Betrayal
Excerpt #2
Thin
rays of sunlight washed over the flat Texas landscape the following
morning. Bran sat at the controls of the
sleek white twin-engine Beechcraft Baron G58 parked in front of its hanger at
the Dallas Executive Airport, south and a little west of downtown.
He
had learned to fly after he’d left the military. Barely recovered from the bullet wounds that
had forced him to leave the Army, one in his thigh, one in his abdomen, and
another that had taken out part of his spleen, he’d been bored and unhappy to
have lost the job he was trained for.
He’d
been trying to figure out what to do with his life when Chase suggested he take
flying lessons. Once he’d started, he’d
liked it so much he’d considered getting a plane of his own, maybe something
like the single engine Cessna that Hawk Maddox flew.
Chase
had come up with the idea that Bran and Reese should share the one he owned,
since it didn’t get used that often. It
was a beautiful plane so Bran had eagerly agreed. Once he discovered private security work was
the answer to his dilemma, the plane had come in handy. As it did today.
“You
belted in?” he asked Jessie.
She
nodded. “All set.” She settled back in the fawn-colored leather
co-pilot’s seat and glanced around the interior. “This is really nice.” Besides the two people in the cockpit, the
plane carried four passengers in comfortable club seating.
“It
hasn’t gotten a lot of use lately. We’ve
all been pretty busy.” He started the
pre-flight, checking the electrical system, looking for any warning lights,
checking the GPS navigation, checking the oil and fuel levels.
He’d
already done the walk-around, inspecting the body for damage, looking for fluid
leaks: oil, fuel, hydraulics.
“We’re
all set.” He put on his headphones and
waited for Jessie to put on hers.
Settling back, he got on the radio and spoke to the tower, then began
taxiing into position on the runway.
Once
cleared for takeoff, the plane began to roll down the tarmac, the propellers
humming as the engine picked up speed.
Jessie studied the landscape outside the window as the plane lifted into
the air and climbed to flying altitude.
She didn’t say much until the city of Dallas disappeared in the distance
behind them.
“As
a rule, I’m not crazy about flying,” she said.
“But I have to admit this is great.”
He
smiled. “Glad you’re enjoying it. For me flying’s mostly a convenient way to
get around. Helluva lot better that
going through all the hassle at the airport.”
“That’s
for sure.”
It
was an easy flight, just a few thunderheads beginning to develop, which he was
able to skirt by slight course alterations.
The patchwork quilt of farmland held Jessie’s attention, giving him a
chance to study her.
She
was really pretty, he thought, and she was smart. There were plenty of beautiful women in
Texas, but when you added brains and a dynamite figure, it was a combination
Bran found hard to resist.
Unfortunately,
anything other than a completely platonic relationship was out of the
question. He owed a debt to Danny Kegan
that he could never repay. A one-night
hookup with his sister or anything remotely similar was out of the
question. His sigh went unnoticed
beneath the hum of the engines.
Near
the half-way point, he landed at a small executive airport in Amarillo and had
the planed topped off while they went into the terminal restaurant for a pit
stop and something to eat. Sandwiches
and soft drinks and a couple of bags of chips and they were airborne
again. A short flight north and a little
west and he landed at Cutter Aviation, a private airport a few miles west of
Colorado Springs.
The
executive terminal, where he’d made arrangements for a hanger to store the
plane, was a log building furnished with brown leather sofas, photos of the
surrounding snow-capped mountains, and bronze sculptures of wildlife, a place
perfectly suited to its location in the Rockies.
Bran
had a rental car waiting, a big dark gray metallic Ford Expedition. He grabbed the handle of his carryon, tossed
the black canvas duffle that held his gear over one shoulder, and urged Jessie,
towing her own carryon, toward the parking lot.
“I
booked two rooms for us at the Holiday Inn,” she said as he loaded their
luggage into the back of the vehicle. “I
hope that works for you.”
He
paused to take the Glock out of his canvas duffle, clipped the holster to his
belt and pulled his Henley out to cover it, then loaded the bag into the
back.
“Call
and cancel,” he said. “I’ve got a suite
for us at the Cheyenne Mountain Resort.
It’s up in the hills not far from Fort Carson.” Apparently she hadn’t figured out that
separate hotel rooms weren’t an option.
People had been shooting at her.
He wasn’t letting her get that far away.
“It’s
an hour drive from there to the Depot,” he said, opening the passenger
door. “But we’ll also be spending time
at the base, which is fairly close, so we might as well stay somewhere
nice.”
“You’re
spending a lot of money. I didn’t expect
that. I’ll find a way to repay you.”
He
stopped walking and turned back. “I told
you before--I owe your brother my life.
You don’t owe me anything and especially not money. I’ve got plenty of it, far more than we’ll
need.” He stared down at her. “All right?”
She
shrugged. “I guess so.” She was a foot shorter than he was, petite,
with a trim figure, but she wasn’t frail.
He usually went for tall, buxom women.
They just seemed less fragile, a better fit for a guy his size. But there was something about Jessie that
drew him.
“No
more talk about money,” he said to make the point. “Okay?”
Her
chin went up. “Fine.”
He
bit back a smile. She was really
cute. Too bad she didn’t look more like
her silver-haired father and less like her brother, whose good-looks appealed
to women around the world.
They
belted themselves into their seats and he started the engine.
“You
don’t want to talk about the money you’re spending,” she said. “So what do you want to talk about? The case, I hope.”
He
grinned. “Why don’t we talk about why
you don’t have a serious boyfriend. That
should be interesting.”
Instead
of the snarky remark he expected, Jessie’s face went pale. She glanced out the window. “It’s not a good story.”
Bran
silently cursed. Dammit, he hadn’t
intended to make her uncomfortable and it was really none of his business. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was just kidding around. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want
to.”
