Penn gave a single nod as he crowded his six-foot-two frame under the plane door and hunched through the narrow aisle to his seat. He’d flown on everything but a hot air balloon in his line of work, but he was accustomed to catching rides on military fighter jets or chartering private planes in Central America. The puddle jumpers were the worst for their lack of space.
His shoulders took up his seat and projected into the aisle. Times like these he felt like a giant fitting himself into a child’s playhouse. He flipped the tiny window shade open to reveal a miniscule window smaller than his hand.
Staring beyond the wing at the airport tarmac, he reminded himself the adventure didn’t lie in the journey in this case. Once he reached the rendezvous point of Nanouk Ridge to meet up with his new team, then the real adventure would begin.
Xtreme Ops. He didn’t know why he’d been earmarked as leader, when he worked solo for the past five years. Though he considered himself a bit of a loner, he looked forward to the challenge of leading men.
He ran through his itinerary in his brain—arrive in Nanouk Ridge. Meet with his team. He planned to share a dinner and bond a bit, which was damn important in this line of work. If you didn’t trust the man on your six, you didn’t have a team. OFFAT commissioned them all living quarters and their equipment was on site, so he planned a training session to ensure all were up to snuff.
He also hoped their headquarters was better than the dump the Ranger Ops initially operated out of, but knowing government funding, he wouldn’t get his hopes up.
Two other passengers boarded, looked at Penn taking up part of the aisle and skirted past him to find alternative spots to sit. He fastened his seatbelt, which barely wrapped around his body, and settled in for takeoff with his knees crunched. There never was enough leg room in these things, but he didn’t make the flight plans—some peon in DC did.
The pilot came on the intercom to announce takeoff. Penn twisted his lips, waiting for his voice to crack. Within minutes, they were in the air, and he settled in his seat as much as he could to think about his men.
Lipton—former Marine decorated with medals from stints in the Middle East. Singlehandedly rescued a political leader from a hostage situation.
Broshears, who’d performed some top-secret missions in North Korea that the government wasn’t admitting to. Penn heard he was a damn scholar of weaponry and the joke was that Penn shouldn’t be surprised to see the man carrying a fifteenth century battle axe.
Hepburn aka Hep. Skilled strategist and all-around tech guru. He was glad to have such a man on his team.
Glancing from the window, Penn saw a wisp of smoke rising from one of the small engines. After hundreds of flights, he thought it was an odd thing to be seeing, but the pilot would be made aware of a problem through his instrument panel.
Penn turned his attention to his team. Six men total, with Gasper and Beckett rounding them out. Both powerhouses in the field and skilled fighters. When he thought of this group he’d only met in a thick file, a knot of pride settled in his chest. Was this how his brother felt. If so, no wonder he was so damn full of himself.
Suddenly, the copilot appeared at the screen between the cockpit and the seating. He wasn’t as young as the pilot but he looked about twelve with a load in his diaper right this second. Sweat beaded on his brow as he addressed all three of the passengers onboard.
“We’re experiencing an issue that might cause a little turbulence. Please keep your seatbelts buckled.”
One look at the guy’s face—then the smoke now pouring from the engine along with tiny licks of flames—and Penn knew ‘keep your seatbelts buckled’ was code for put your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye.
The plane gave a sudden dip, sending the copilot toppling through the divider and leaving the cockpit wide open. Penn assessed the situation in a fraction of a brainwave. Lights blinking. Pilot holding tight to the controls as the plane started into a downward drop.
Behind him, the two passengers screamed. Penn couldn’t just sit here waiting for the plane to crash and end his life before he even got a chance at his own guts and glory.
He ripped off his seatbelt and staggered forward to the cockpit.
“You can’t be here,” the copilot said.
With a sharp move, Penn brushed the man aside and forced him out of the cockpit. Through the windshield, the ground was rushing closer at an alarming rate.
“Lost an engine?” he asked the child pilot.
“Yes, I thought it was okay and we’d reach our destination on the other engines.” He tried to pull the nose up, but doing so too fast would only result in something worse.
“Calm down. You were trained for an emergency landing. Pick a spot and put this bird down,” Penn commanded.
Instead of instilling calm confidence in the guy, Penn’s words only flustered him more. The plane angled sharply.
“What do I do?” The pilot’s voice burned with fear.
“Give me the plane.”
“You can fly?”
Penn gripped the yoke and pulled up even as he adjusted speeds, wind flaps and accounted for the wind speed. After a quick calculation in his head, he figured they had a chance if he angled the bird against the wind. The resistance would slow them enough for him to get control.
Maybe.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” the pilot asked in a frantic voice.
“Be quiet.” He concentrated on the ground. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about making an emergency landing in someone’s living room. The land was wide open below.
“I’m going to land it—there.” He pointed northeast to a spot of pale green that could only be open field. He banked right.
The remaining engines should have done the job, as the pilot mentioned, but Penn would bet his favorite sidearm on there being a technical issue with the other engines as well.
Fucking puddle jumpers.
The plane hit a pocket of air and dropped several feet. Behind him, more screams sounded from the scared passengers. He clenched his jaw and took control.
The ground rushed closer. It wouldn’t be an easy landing, but they’d damn well be on the ground in one piece if he had anything to say about it.
“Tell them to assume the crash position,” he commanded the pilot as he yanked his own seatbelt hard to counteract the G-force of falling out of the sky.
“We’re going to crash?”
“No. But we’re comin’ in hot.”
The pilot conveyed the order, and seconds later, Penn put the plane down with a hard bang that shot him forward against his seatbelt.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, still gripping the yoke while he assessed the situation. He threw the pilot a look. “Shut the engines down and get everybody out in case this thing goes up in flames. Wild Alaska is the perfect name for your plane service, son.” He stood, leaving the pilot to deal with the workings of his plane.
As he stepped out into the field he’d just landed in, he studied his surroundings.
Hell yeah. He smiled.
This was exactly the thrill he was seeking.
“All loaded, Cora.” Hank Hutton, known in his Air Force days as Eagle, offered her a smile as he placed the gallon jugs of water onboard the bush plane.
“Want me to weigh the passenger’s bag?” she asked her father.