Page 33 of Final Approach

“Without you, Captain, I would be dead or in the hands of someone who wishes to purchase me like a dog.” Madman’s tone held no inflection, and yet the words were unbearably chilling. “You have saved my life. My debt is yours.”

Ah. His odd, stoic statue routine now made sense. An intriguing display of loyalty. Would he protect us in a Colombian prison if it came to that?

The rescue plane could arrive at any moment. We had to get rid of the drugs tonight.

“You owe me nothing, Madman,” she whispered, raking her fingers absently through the dirt beneath her seat. “But thank you.”

He glowered into the fire before rising to his feet. Folding his arms across his chest, he peered into the darkness once more, faithfully watching. Protecting.

If the scariest, most dangerous brute of a man in the whole of South America wanted to protect me, I was graciously accepting, not questioning what I’d done to warrant it.

A muffled thump caught my attention from behind my position by the fire, and I stiffened. The primal sweep of icy pinpricks through my bloodstream set my entire body on edge. With a bravery I did not feel, I whipped my head toward the plane, but could see nothing. Layers of specialized glass blocked any light from penetrating.

Had I imagined the sound? Another errant piece of luggage—or drugs—dropping to the floor, perhaps?

No one else seemed to notice. Their attention remained firmly affixed to Marley. I shrugged off the sudden chill in the damp heat of the night, in a shoddy attempt to convince myself it was nothing.

Ambrose finally spoke. “That doesn’t explain the drugs, or why you’re out here in the middle of the night.”

Marley’s gaze flicked to mine, as if seeking permission to speak the truth. It was our secret, I supposed. Our crew. Dipping my head once, she mirrored the gesture and pursed her lips, contemplating her next words.

After what seemed like a full waltz at one of my grandmother’s dinner parties, she spoke.

“I am telling you this out of transparency, but I’m asking you to keep this to yourself until we find out more.” She held up her hand at Ambrose’s lip curl. “I don’t want anyone else to panic, okay? Our passengers have been through enough. They deserve to be rescued without another thing added to their plates.”

Reluctantly, Ambrose nodded.

“Our copilot, Jameson Adams, is missing.”

Madman shifted and his brows knit together in a heavy frown. Ambrose was the opposite. His delicate brows reached toward the loose tendrils of his chestnut hairline. When neither of them spoke, Marley continued.

“He’s not in the cockpit, and we haven’t been able to find a body. We came back to get answers, and we came back at night because we didn’t want to worry the others. When we saw the cargo door open, Nikki investigated. That’s when we found the drugs. And a trail of blood, but we haven’t been able to track where it leads because you two showed up.”

My ears pricked, the familiar freezing sensation stiffening my spine once more. Was that another thump? Or was I just so thirsty, my mind was determined to play tricks on me? I fingered the tiny vodka bottle in my shorts—for comfort, mostly. We needed to speed this up. We needed to throw the drugs in the jungle and clear off back to camp before the devils in the night took us, somewhere I could take a nip and we could rest until morning.

“Whereas Marley has no memories leading up to the crash, I do.” I pointed out, rising to my feet to get a better sense of the sound. No sense worrying them if my imagination was getting the best of me. “At no point did she, or I, allow a drug shipment onto the plane. Nor do we know its final destination. We were stopping in Panama for fuel. That could be its destination, or Mexico City. Unless we find Jamie, we may never know.”

Marley bit her lip, a thoughtful expression flashing across her features. “Madman, I’m sorry to ask this, but could your transport and the drug shipment be connected? Does your gang run drugs?”

Ahh, my brilliant pilot. I hadn’t considered that possibility.

“If there is a connection, I don’t know of it.” He tilted his head in consideration before rubbing his hand across the stubble along his jaw. “Clube de Morte does not run drugs. We trade secrets and contract hits. Offer protection for a price. How people choose to cope with their lives is not my concern.”

Huh. Was this a gangbanger with a conscience? Drugs bad, hits for hire, good? The man continued to surprise me.

“You’re going to believe what you want, Ambrose.” Marley’s subdued smile glowed yellow as she leaned closer to the fire. “Nikki and I will search for Jamie in the morning. It’s our duty at this point. A rescue will come, and I can’t leave him behind, not if he’s still alive.”

She drew a shaky breath and pulled herself up to her knees, a spine of steel taking the place of her quiet confidence. “I won’t let him die out here, alone.”

Staring into the embers, she spoke her next words so quietly I almost didn’t catch them.

“No one should ever have to survive the woods alone.”

Thump.

My imagination was not imagining anything. That was most definitely the legitimate sound of something living hitting against something else, and I scrambled to my feet to face the plane head-on. Irrational fears of stumbling animated corpses raced through my brain, and I fingered the gun in my pocket, hoping like hell I wouldn’t need to use it.

Madman was immediately by my side, and I could feel two more bodies at my back. Another thump. Two more, the sounds dull and muffled, yet akin to a sonic boom. It was a miracle I could hear anything at all over the pounding of my heart.