24. Max

24

MAX

"Well, now that that's done, can we get out of here before someone sees all the dead bodies?"

I puffed on my cigar, really wishing I had a whiskey right now, but apparently, I was no longer allowed to drink the hard stuff on the job. Besides, Christa didn't like it when I was drunk. If I was honest, the only time I needed to be drunk was when I wasn't with her. If Cash thought that this job would keep me grounded, he was fucking wrong. The only thing that kept me from losing myself in a bottle was her.

"Change of plans," Chase said. "Cash's orders are to stay grounded."

"Those were his orders before," Nicholas growled. "And I chose to ignore them."

"Yes, but if you don't listen to him, you'll fuck everything up."

"I can't wait. I know that's what he wants me to do, but I need to get to Raven."

"Raven will be fine as long as you fucking listen," Chance growled.

"Hey, no need to get all antsy," I said, trying to diffuse the tension. "Why don't we go for a drink and talk this out."

"And some chicken," Fox agreed.

Chase turned to me with a glare. "He said you'd say that. He also gave specific instructions that I wasn't supposed to let you near any alcohol. Or you near any shawarma," he said to Fox.

"Chicken isn't shawarma. Technically speaking."

My cigar nearly fell out of my mouth in astonishment. "That's just mean. Why the fuck would he do that?"

"Because this isn't just a rescue operation for Raven," he said gravely. "What Rafe didn't tell all of us before was that he and Cash have a sister, and she's on that island."

"So fucking what?" I said, really pissed that my alcohol was being restricted.

"She was kidnapped thirteen years ago and forced to marry Zavala. That's what this whole fucking thing is about," Chase informed us, taking an extra second to stare me down. "That's why you can't fuck this up. Raven is there, but she'll be able to fight her way out. Isabelle, Rafe's sister, is probably a little fucked up over her situation. It's going to take all of us—sober—to ensure her freedom. And you lie at the center of the plan."

I rolled my eyes, tossing my cigar on the ground in anger. "Aw, fuck." Then I realized what I had done and quickly picked up my cigar, brushing it off.

"That means no drinking of any kind until we figure out how to get to the island and rescue both of them."

"What about Rafe?" Nicholas asked.

"Cash said he would appreciate if we made every effort to rescue his half-witted brother. I added that last part."

"So…when he says no alcohol?—"

"None," Chase said, narrowing his eyes at me. "Not even a beer."

"What about a wine cooler? I mean, it's not much, but it'll take the edge off."

"None."

My lips tightened in anger. This really wasn't fair. "I work better when I'm half in the tank."

"Patrick will ensure you don't have a single drop." He turned and nodded to his teammate.

"Great, so I'm on babysitting duty?" Patrick sneered. "I don't think I like this job."

"Too bad," Chase snapped. "Now, let's get in the trucks and?—"

"Hey!"

I turned, puffing on my cigar as I watched the authorities approach. "Well, fuck. This isn't good."

"Any chance they'll think the men died from natural causes?" Nicholas asked Fox.

"If you think they'll find it natural to have bullet wounds."

"Looks like we're taking to the skies," Chase grumbled. "Everyone in."

"Uh…FNG isn't here," I pointed out. "Not that I particularly mind leaving him behind."

"We'll catch up with him later. He's good at finding his way out of bad situations," Chase said, heading for the plane.

"Hold up," I said, chasing after him. "You don't seriously expect me to fly that thing sober!"

"Do you want to be killed?" he called over his shoulder.

I didn't answer. I wasn't sure what was worse. Frankly, I wasn't sure I could fly this thing when I wasn't drinking. I mean, I'd done it before, but that could have been a fluke.

I jumped into the plane and got to work. My brain wasn't functioning right. Everything seemed like it was in a foreign language to me.

"Max, get us moving!" Chase shouted.

"I'm working on it!"

"Work on it faster!" he shouted as the men ran toward us. For the first time ever, sweat broke out on my face as I hurried through getting the plane started. I felt like this was my first time in an airplane.

"Why aren't we moving?" Patrick yelled at me.

"Stop hassling me! I'm working on it!"

My hands shook as I finally got the plane moving. The men raised their weapons, yelling at me to stop. My cigar nearly fell out of my mouth as I stared at them.

"Go!"

"They'll shoot at me," I retorted.

"They'll fucking move if you fly right at them," Fox chuckled. "Let's see how long it takes them. What does this do?" he asked, touching things on the board.

I slapped his hand away, then increased the speed. A Jeep came flying across the pavement and the men turned, firing at the new threat. I took the opportunity to speed up, but then saw it was FNG. He was waving at us, laughing his ass off as he pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it at the men, swerving toward us at the last minute.

"It's FNG!" Fox shouted. "Man, that guy cracks me up!"

"He's going to get himself killed!"

"Nah, he can't die. Haven't you heard?" Fox laughed. "Pull over so we can let him in."

"You know, this isn't a car."

"Well, clearly, or we wouldn't be attempting to fly."

I slowed the plane, hoping none of the men survived. "Get the door!"

FNG jumped out of the Jeep, doing a little dance as he walked over to us. He was laughing so hard he didn't see one of the men crawling away from the debris from his grenade. I shouted to him, but he couldn't hear me over the roar of the plane. He was struck and nearly went down, hobbling around on his leg and cursing instead of getting to the fucking stairs.

"Don't worry, buddy! I got this!" Fox shouted.

I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Fox lean out, then jump from the still-moving plane as the stairs fell to the ground. I heard the wheels on the stairs scratching the ground and winced at the horrible noise.

My phone rang seconds later, and when I pulled it out, I saw Most Awesome Teammate scrolling across the screen. "What?"

"Hey, buddy. Do you want to stop the plane? This is Fox, by the way."

"I know it's you!"

"Oh, awesome! You recognized my voice. That's progress."

"When did you get my phone?" I snapped.

"I see you saw that I changed my name on your screen."

"Fox, don't touch my fucking phone."

"Not to be a stickler, but we'd really appreciate it if you would pull over."

"You're using stickler wrong," I argued, trying to distract myself from the sudden urge to vomit. What the hell was going on?

When the plane finally stopped, Fox helped FNG up the stairs and into a seat. He walked up to me, clapping me on the shoulder before sliding into the co-pilot's seat. "That was a close one, right?"

"Can we leave now?"

"You have the controls," he grinned. "Man, I do love a good plane chase."

I let out a low growl under my breath and put the plane in motion. My stomach was still churning, but the desire to vomit had lessened. However, when I turned the plane around to head back in the other direction on the runway, all those sick feelings started working their way up my esophagus.

"Looks like you'll get to see another one," I muttered, watching as SUVs barreled down the runway toward us. "Do you think they'll move if I head right for them?"

"Let's find out," Fox laughed, rubbing his hands together maniacally.

I turned on the overhead speaker and prepared for what was about to happen. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are approaching seven SUVs on the tarmac and will be making this a hard takeoff."

"It's eight," Fox corrected.

"Make that eight SUVs. Please put your tray tables up and lock them in position. If you do not already have your seatbelt on, I would advise you to do so now if you want to avoid hitting the back wall of the plane."

I turned off the speaker and took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."

It felt like I was back in a test plane as we barreled down the runway. Except, I had none of those excited feelings swirling in my gut. We were quickly approaching the SUVs, but they were making no attempts to move.

We sped down the runway right toward them. They shouted at us, firing at the windshield. I ducked, screaming like a little girl. Fox looked at me strangely. Yeah, it was fucking weird as hell. I didn't know what came over me.

"If they don't get out of the way, this is going to be one fiery takeoff!"

"They'll move," Fox assured me.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"How sure?"

"Like…twenty/eighty."

I nearly slammed on the brakes. "Those are terrible odds!"

"Well, they're still on the runway. Did you want me to lie to you?"

"Yes!"

"Alright, we're definitely going to make it. They're going to move in 3- 2- 1.5- 1.25- 1?—"

"Stop counting!" I shouted. "That's not helpful."

"You said to be reassuring."

"You suck at it!"

If they didn't move in the next five seconds, we were all going to die. I screamed, and then Fox screamed beside me. I pulled back on the yoke and squeezed my eyes closed as we took to the skies. My throat was raw and my eyes were still shut tight long after the five seconds passed. I felt Fox shaking me, laughing like a madman.

I finally peeled my eyes open and saw that not only were we airborne, but there were no squished little dudes on the windshield. I felt a wave of relief wash over me, and then felt bile rise in my throat. I yanked off my seatbelt, but it was already too late. I turned to the side and vomited all over the floor.

"That's not coming out," I heard Fox mutter.

I didn't care what he was talking about. I needed water and for someone else to take over flying this plane.

"Great, there are two of them now," Chase retorted, handing me a water. "You know, Scottie's going to think you're in competition with him.

I rinsed my mouth, but had nowhere to spit. I spewed it onto the ground. It was already covered in vomit, so it didn't matter. "Fuck, I don't know what happened."

"Should we start stowing barf bags for you too?"

I shook my head, but I honestly wasn't sure. What if this happened again? Was this what happened to Scottie? Would I lose my love of flying because of this incident? It didn't make any sense. I was the level-headed one. Then again, I told them I flew better when I was drunk. That had to be the problem.

"Man, that was some takeoff," FNG laughed, wincing as he saw the vomit on the floor. "I take it things didn't go as well for you."

"Bad cigar," I muttered.

"Thanks for stopping for me back there. You know, for a minute, I didn't think you were going to stop."

I slowly turned to face him. "I wasn't going to. Fox made me."

He frowned at me. "Well…that's not very team-like."

I put the plane on autopilot and got up to use the restroom.

"Where are you going?" FNG asked. "You're the only one who knows how to fly the plane!"

I stopped and leaned in close. "Just remember, you wanted me on your team."