“We taking over negotiations?” Doc asked.
“Fuck yeah, we are,” Trigger answered for Brain. He’d also seen the transcripts. Gillian Romano was clearly scared, but she’d still done what she could to keep the hijackers calm and to get the passengers what they needed to be comfortable. He supposed her skills came from being an event planner.
“We’re landing at the same airport, on the one runway they’ve still got open,” Brain informed them. “But we aren’t allowed to step foot off the airport property. The government doesn’t want us in their country, and especially not out wandering around.”
“Assholes,” Oz said under his breath.
“So what’s the plan?” Doc asked.
Trigger cleared his throat. “Get there. Get the asshole off the phone with Ms. Romano and see if we can’t pull as much information from her as possible. Ideally, we’ll pose as delivery men for supplies. We’ll take out the hijackers and get the passengers to safety.”
Grover chuckled. “Well, that sounds easy…not.”
Trigger didn’t even smile. “It won’t be. We all know it. Those assholes could get tired of waiting. Most likely this is all a red herring, and they’re a diversion from whatever their real agenda is. We have to stay on our toes. Trust no one. They landed in Venezuela for a reason, but whatever that is doesn’t matter until those passengers are safe. Understand?”
Everyone immediately agreed. Their mission was hostage rescue. Nothing else. It was up to the CIA, FBI, DEA, and whoever else was involved to figure out the reasons behind the hijacking.
But even as the team fell silent, lost in their own thoughts about the upcoming mission, Trigger couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Everything felt off about this op. And getting into an airplane undetected was impossible. Innocent civilians were going to die, there was no getting around that fact.
Trigger’s thoughts returned to Gillian Romano, the appointed liaison for the hijackers. Just by reading the transcripts, he could tell she was smart. She was doing her best not to panic, which he admired. Not a lot of hostages he’d dealt with over the years kept as level a head as Gillian. While he hadn’t heard her voice, and he couldn’t read her emotions through her words, he could still tell she was terrified. And for some reason, that bothered him.
It was ridiculous. Trigger had no idea what she looked like or who she was as a person. She could be a harpy, or some vain chick only concerned about how many selfies she could post on social media. But he didn’t think so.
Maybe he’d been hanging out with Ghost and his team for too long. Maybe he’d been wishing a bit too hard that he’d find a woman he could love and cherish as much as the other team cared about their women and families. He couldn’t deny he was ready. At thirty-seven, he felt as if his life was passing him by. He wanted what his friends had.
He wanted someone to be there when he got home after a hard mission. Someone he could laugh with, completely let down his tough façade with, and who could make him feel as if the dangerous job he was doing was worth it.
He’d always thought he had plenty of time. But now he was closing in on forty. That wasn’t old by any stretch, but Trigger still couldn’t help feeling as if a vital part of life was eluding him.
Shaking his head, Trigger tried to get a grip. In the middle of an impossible op, which would most likely end in the deaths of way too many people, was not the time to start thinking about his love life…or lack thereof.
Pushing the inappropriate personal thoughts out of his head, Trigger did his best to formulate a plan. He knew he’d be the one taking over for the negotiator. He was good at it. The rest of the team would scope out the area and glean as many details as possible, so they could figure out the safest way to storm that plane.
We’re coming, Gillian, Trigger silently promised. Hang on just a bit longer, we’re comin’.
Chapter Two
Gillian tried not to hyperventilate. She wanted to be anywhere but here. She didn’t want to be the negotiator for the monsters who’d taken over the plane. She didn’t want to be the person responsible for whether others lived or died. But she didn’t have a choice.
The hijacker who seemed to be in charge—the one who’d told everyone his name was Luis—had shoved a cell phone into her hand after they’d landed and told her to talk to the person on the other end.
She’d been speaking with the condescending asshole assigned to communicate with her and the terrorists for almost two days, and he was acting as if she were a stupid little girl who didn’t understand the situation.
But Gillian understood more than he did. She understood that when he didn’t immediately agree to send water and food out to the plane, someone would die. And they had. Another one of the hijackers, Jesus, had shot a man in the temple and shoved him out of the plane. She’d never forget the thud the body made when it hit the concrete below.
The food and water had been delivered not too long after that.
She’d told the man on the other end of the line that the hijackers wanted someone named Hugo Lamas released from prison, and all he would tell her was that they were working on it. Gillian was afraid that soon, “working on it” wouldn’t be good enough. Luis was getting impatient and wanted to see proof that the government was doing something to release his friend.
Luis grabbed her upper arm yet again, and Gillian winced. She had bright purple bruises all over her arm because the hijackers liked to manhandle her. He leaned close and once more threatened her. “Tell them we’re getting impatient. They need to quit fucking around and release Hugo. We’ve got eyes on the prison and know they’re just stalling. Also, tell them that this plane needs to be refueled. Once Hugo is released, we’re out of here. If they keep stalling, more people will die. All of this could be done and over with if they just do what we fucking say!”
Gillian stared up at the man in shock. His beard was growing shaggier by the day, and while she didn’t flinch from his stench anymore—everyone on the plane now smelled pretty rank—she couldn’t help wincing at the new information.
“You’re going to let us all go before you take off though, right?” she asked.
Luis smiled. But it wasn’t a nice smile. It was evil and threatening. He ran his fingers down Gillian’s cheek and said, “I think I might just take you with us. You’ve been such an obedient and good girl.”
She jerked her head away from his touch, but Luis moved fast, fisting her long blonde hair in his hand and yanking her head backward. He licked up her cheek before moving to whisper in her ear.
“Don’t think you’re any better than me, girlie. Your blonde hair and tits might get you whatever you want back in America, but you’re in my world now. And if I want you, I’ll have you. If I want to kill you, I will. You’ll do exactly what I say, when I say it. Got it?”
Gillian’s mouth was as dry as cotton. She’d been terrified of the men since they’d taken over the plane, but she hadn’t ever been worried that they’d try anything sexual…until now. She nodded as best she could with her head still immobilized by his hand in her hair.
“Good.” He untangled his fingers and ran his hand over her head. “You know, if you were nicer to me, then I might be kinder to the others.”