Chapter 26

The helicopter did seem like something used in a war zone. Even if it was only the drug war. There was a gurney that wasn"t really intended for two men but we somehow managed to crowd them in together.

Then it was time for Noah to tie me up under the malign supervision of our captor.

"This is sick and twisted," I said. "I hope you both know that. Tying up a naked man, holding him prisoner... I don"t consent to any of this."

Noah had been ordered to equip himself with endless yards of yellow nautical rope. He"d tried to get away with sort of mummy-wrapping my torso around a back passenger seat—a form of restraint I could have easily slithered out of while they weren"t looking.

Alas, our captor wasn"t going for it. "He"ll work his arms out of that wrap and then untie himself in no time," he said. "I"m a fan of the hogtie myself."

"That doesn"t seem safe for liftoffs and landings," Noah said.

"Ask me if I care." He nudged with the rifle. "On your belly, pal."

"But he"s right," I protested. "Any bit of turbulence, and I"ll be bounced all over the cabin."

He one-handed a couple of seat cushions down to the floor. "There. You"ve got padding."

"This is completely..."

"Hurry up. I"m ready to skip ahead to the part where your buddy duct-tapes over your big mouth."

Noah knelt to secure me into the classic hogtie. We were probably both flashing back to that time when Noah was being secured by me into the very same position. Wrists together, ankles together, a length of short rope to connect bound wrists to bound ankles. Then it was fun. A fantasy.

Also a chance for us to practice certain knots.

As he worked, he curled my fingers until I felt what he was doing. What knots he was using. And how careful he was to make sure I could reach them.

I didn"t dare nod. I didn"t dare to show even the smallest hint of reaction.

But we both knew that I knew.

I"ll be able to get out.

"C"mon, this really isn"t safe," I squawked. "I"m rolling around on my belly here."

Noah padded me with a couple more cushions, but there was only so much he could do with the supplies at hand. "Sorry," he said. "You can get me back later. It"ll even be fun."

"Spare me the pillow talk," said the goon. "You gonna use that duct tape for its intended purpose, or you want me to shut him up? Because if it"s me, I ain"t gonna be gentle."

"No." Noah"s voice was suddenly firm. Quivering, compliant Noah had completely vanished. "That"s not going happen. Slate"s right. His position is dangerous enough. He needs to be able to get our attention if he"s in distress. And we can"t do anything that might interfere with somebody"s breathing during takeoff and landing."

"You don"t make the rules around here, buddy. He who has the gun makes the rules."

"Not trying to make a rule. Trying to use some common sense. Do you want us all to get where we"re going alive, or would you rather have a nice quiet grave?"

A bolt of lightning cut through the night. Followed by a crash of thunder so loud it seemed as if it was coming down on our heads.

The storm was moving in.

"We shouldn"t take off in this," I said. "We really shouldn"t."

"The storm"s not moving off until noon." The goon"s voice was as hard as non-compliant Noah"s. "And we"re going to need to be gone by dawn."

I expected Noah to protest a little more, but he didn"t. Probably wise. We were already loaded. The goon could change his mind at any time about leaving us awake. Too much hassle from the two of us, and he"d go back to plan A. Knock us out, put down his gun, and fly out himself.

"The running commentary isn"t going to be all that bad," Noah said. "Once we"re in the air, the helicopter noise will keep you from hearing any unwanted wisecracks from the peanut gallery. Strap in, put on your headphones, and let"s get moving."

"Did somebody just call me the peanut gallery?" I asked. "Wait until it"s my turn to tie you up."