Chapter 23 - THE PLANE THAT NEVER LEFT
I cut Ethan’s restraints while Daniel exchanged fire with the remaining contractors.
“You came without Keene?” Ethan asked.
“She’s close.”
“Not close enough.”
The jet accelerated down the runway.
I saw the general through one of the cabin windows, clutching the drive against his chest.
Ethan pulled a small transmitter from beneath his shirt.
“What is that?”
“The reason Miller should have searched me better.”
He pressed the activation switch.
Nothing happened.
The jet continued gaining speed.
Ethan pressed it again.
Still nothing.
“You said it would work,” I shouted over the engines.
“It did during testing.”
A contractor fired from behind a fuel truck. Daniel dropped to the pavement, clutching his shoulder.
I dragged Ethan behind the hangar wall and returned fire until the contractor retreated.
The jet reached the end of the runway.
Then its landing lights died.
The engines lost power one after the other.
The aircraft rolled into the grass and stopped twenty yards before the ridge.
Ethan exhaled.
“I disabled the fuel control system while Miller transported me.”
Commander Keene’s tactical vehicles burst through the main gate.
JAG agents surrounded the jet.
Miller emerged holding the pilot at gunpoint.
“Back away!” he shouted.
Keene stepped forward.
“You are under arrest for treason, murder, conspiracy, obstruction, and crimes involving classified military operations.”
“I have diplomatic protections.”
“You have a hostage and a dead engine.”
Miller dragged the pilot toward a maintenance truck.
I moved around the far side of the aircraft, using the wing as cover.
Ethan followed despite his wound.
“You should stay down,” I whispered.
“You’ve been saying that since I was ten.”
Miller reached the truck.
Before he could climb inside, the pilot dropped his weight. Miller lost balance.
I tackled him into the mud.
He fought with surprising strength, clawing toward the pistol. Ethan kicked it away.
Miller looked up at both of us.
For the first time, he appeared old.
“You have no idea what you’ve disrupted,” he said.
“Then testify,” I answered.
His fear returned.
Not fear of prison.
Fear of the people he had served.
A red targeting light appeared briefly on his chest.
Ethan saw it too.
“Sniper!”
We dragged Miller behind the truck as a bullet struck the ground.
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The shooter wasn’t trying to free him.
Someone was trying to silence him.
