Stationed. That meant he was military. Which also meant he was probably some sort of special forces guy.
Gillian wasn’t an idiot. Living as close to Fort Hood as she did meant she came into contact with a lot of military service members. She knew there were several teams of Delta Force operatives stationed at the base. She closed her eyes and prayed harder than she ever had before that Walker was one of those super-soldiers.
“Gillian?”
“I’m from Texas too,” she said softly.
“I know,” he returned.
Gillian cried out in pain when Isaac kicked her leg, hard. “Ow!”
“What are you saying?” Isaac barked.
“It’s a new negotiator,” she told him. “He wants to get to know me.”
“Tell him we want more food and need gas. Ask about Hugo,” Isaac demanded.
“He already told me they’re working on getting Hugo freed. He said there’s a lot of red tape and it’s taking a while to work with the Venezuelan authorities. But they’re working on it,” she said quickly when he pulled his leg back to kick her once again. “And I’ll tell him about the food, water, and fuel. I haven’t had a chance yet,” she told the hijacker.
Feeling braver than she had before, just because a kind voice was on the other end of the phone—she already felt safer with him organizing things, than she had with the other guy—she said, “In America, it’s customary to get to know someone before you just start demanding things. I’m going to tell him what you want, but letting me talk to him for five minutes isn’t going to mess up your timeline.”
Not surprisingly, Isaac glared at her. Very surprisingly, he nodded. But he leaned forward and dug his fingers into her calf brutally as he said, “Fine, but if we don’t have more food soon, it’ll be your fault that someone else dies.” He squeezed her leg once more, then let go and sat back, his dark brown eyes boring into her.
“Shit, are you all right?” Walker said into her ear. “Did he hurt you?”
“I’m okay,” Gillian repeated. She wasn’t, but there wasn’t anything Walker Nelson could do about the throbbing in her leg or the fear making its way through her bloodstream. She knew she didn’t have a lot of time to get information to this guy, and she hoped like hell he’d be able to figure out her clues. She wasn’t exactly a pro at spy stuff, but she’d do her best.
“My dad was a pilot,” she began. “But he died. My mom worked for the same airline as him, and that’s how they met. She was a flight attendant. My dad wooed her by bribing the caterers to deliver her presents. The first gift he got for her was a stuffed animal. Cheesy, but it worked because she agreed to go out with him.” Gillian knew Isaac was listening to every word, and she was afraid she was being too vague. But Walker’s next words reassured her.
“Right. I know your parents live in Florida and weren’t a pilot or flight attendant. So if I’m reading you right, you’re saying the pilot’s deceased and you think the hijackers got weapons smuggled onboard before the plane took off?” Walker asked calmly.
Gillian relaxed a fraction. He understood. Thank God. “Yeah.”
“How many are there?”
“I have six brothers. I’m the youngest,” she said.
“Got it,” Walker reassured her. “All armed?”
“Yes.”
“Guns?”
“Yes.”
“Knives?”
“Yes.”
“You’re doing amazing, Gillian.”
“My mom told me stories about how they liked to fool around in the plane after all the passengers had left. This would never happen today, but back then, they had no problem sneaking back on a plane after its flights for the day were over. Mom always wanted to be up front, in first class, but dad preferred the back of the plane.”
“Okay…I know you’re trying to tell me something, but I’m not understanding,” Walker said. “I’m so sorry. Keep going. I’ll figure it out.”
Gillian refused to get discouraged. She was actually giving the authorities information they could hopefully use, not just getting yelled at by the negotiator and the hijackers. She forced a chuckle, as if Walker had said something funny. “So you know how it is. My brothers were all very protective of me. They always let me have the best seat. I was always in the front in the car, and when we went to shows, they put me in the row ahead of them so they could keep their eye on me.”
“So you’re in the front of the plane?” Walker asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Got it. They’ve separated the women and men, putting the women near the front of the plane and the men in the back, right?”
Gillian wanted to cry in relief. He’d understood her lame clues. “Exactly.”
“Good job. We knew from the thermal imagers that there were two groups of hostages, one in front and one in back, but we didn’t know you were separated by gender.”
With every word out of his mouth, Gillian felt better. Heat signatures meant they had some fancy electronics and they could watch what they were doing.
“I’m going to get you out of this,” Walker told her.
Gillian closed her eyes. She knew he couldn’t promise her that, but she appreciated him saying it anyway. “Okay.”
“I am,” he said, more firmly now.
“I hope so,” she whispered.
Isaac kicked again, and she yelped when his foot made contact with the same part of her leg he’d kicked and dug his fingers into not too long ago. “Get on with it,” he hissed.
“That fucker better stop hurting you,” he growled. “Are you okay, Gillian?” Walker asked in her ear.
Gillian closed her eyes and soaked in his concern. After the hell she’d been through over the last couple of days, his words were a balm for her battered soul.
In just the few minutes they’d been on the phone, Gillian was already forming an emotional attachment to a man she’d never seen, a man she was relying on to rescue her. But she couldn’t help it. His kindness meant everything.
“What happened?” Walker asked urgently.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Gillian blinked.
What the hell was she thinking? The man was doing a job. Any attachment she was feeling was because of the situation, nothing more.
“We need more water,” she blurted, not taking her eyes from Isaac’s foot. She wanted to be prepared next time he decided to kick her. “And food. And they want this plane fueled up.”
“Wait—what? They’re going to try to fly that plane out of here?” Walker asked.
Gillian ignored him. She didn’t know what the hijackers had planned. All she knew was that there were ten people who could escape this nightmare if she played her role correctly. “They said they’d let people go if we got food and water soon, but if we don’t, they’re going to kill someone else. And they mean it.”
“Take a breath, Gillian. I know they mean it.”
She ignored him and continued on, talking as fast as she could to make sure she got as much information to him as possible. “Last time, they shot one of the men and threw him out of here. I heard his body land on the tarmac.”