Two bodyguards, who’d been standing in the center of the fuselage, got sucked out the back of the plane.

The plane jolted hard and Virginia came down on her hands and knees.

Climbing to her feet, she ran for the cockpit, through the bar, past the doors.

Brandon was in the co-pilot’s chair, trying to hold the erratic thing steady. Against all odds, without the tail, somehow, impossibly, he was keeping them level.

“What’s happening?” he yelled, voice laced with fear to his core.

“Down,” Virginia said.

“What?”

“Take us down.”

“What?”

“Fast.”

He wasn’t reacting fast, and she didn’t have time to explain. She gripped the yoke over his hands and lifted it hard. The plane dipped down like a ride at a theme park. She kept her hold on the column as her body flew towards the ceiling.

The plane grew even louder, shakier.

“AHHHHHH!” Brandon roared.

Virginia lost grip on the yoke and her body flew up and hit the ceiling.

The plane felt like it would tear at the seams, like they were putting too much pressure on it. Virginia knew it wasn’t so. It would make it. But not if it got hit by another RPG.

“What’s going on?” Brandon yelled, which she could barely hear over everything.

He began to level out the plane. The noise decreased as Virginia fell back to the floor, landing on Chad’s dead body.

“The second group,” she said. “Your buddies. Trying to shoot us down.”

“What?”

“It’s why they wanted the coordinates, Brandon.”

“But why?”

“They’re terrorists. It’s what they do.”

“Why in the air?”

“Shooting down a plane in the air drives home a point.”

“Don’t mess with us.”

“Exactly.”

Virginia slid into the pilot’s chair.

“What do we do?” asked Brandon.

But he already knew, because they were both looking at the radar. The blip that was the other plane was moving closer, on their tail.

“It’s bigger than us,” Virginia said.

“We can’t outrun them.”

“And we’re missing the tail of the plane.”

Brandon wiped sweat from his forehead.

“Switch the controls to me,” said Virginia.

“I’m a better pilot.”

“Switch the controls. I was only getting warmed up earlier.”

Virginia could have switched the control over herself, but she wanted him to participate, to keep him engaged. He was still in shock over Chad, and he looked like he might begin hyperventilating. She needed him to feel some relief of burden here, some passing of the torch, because she’d need his help piloting this thing.

Virginia took hold of the yoke, and Brandon waited a beat, looking at her, wiping some sweat from his forehead. Then, he clicked a button, and she felt the yoke go tight, the power of the beast switching into her hands. She kept an eye on radar as she dipped the plane down, more gently this time.

A gunshot sounded off and clipped the edge of the seat, just above Jake’s head. So they still wanted to fight. Were probably blaming Jake for the other plane. Who knows?

Jake’s main priority was getting a parachute from the overhead bins. He and Virginia could share one.

“Hey,” he yelled to the men as loud as he could. “We need to work together.”

“Not enough parachutes.”

Jake had only said that to draw them out. Hearing the man’s voice, Jake knew where the man was. Center-right. And Jake rose from behind his cover. Aimed his gun. As long as he was faster he would win.

The man stood there, gun aimed, nearly at Jake.

Before the man could even twitch, Jake fired.

Blood erupted from the man’s chest.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Then Jake rolled to his right, came up at the back of the center aisle.

Two men rose from behind seats.

Jake took the one who’d made the most progress in his rise. Hit him through the head. These men were less than thirty feet away—perfect range for his pistol. A cheeky Beretta. Graphite-steel.

Then Jake moved down the aisle at a fast pace. Arms extended, gun ready. The semi-automatic piece held lightly in his hands.

Jake took a shot at a seat behind which he knew a man was hidden.

Then Jake came to the first line of seats where two of the warlords were seated, strapped in. He stopped there, looked them over, made sure they didn’t have weapons. Clinging to their armrests, the color was drained from their faces.

A picture of their fortunes crossed his mind.

They had a lot to lose if this plane went down—a lot to lose if they couldn’t get a parachute.

The man that was head-glitching behind the seats went for it. Rose up, trying to take aim. Jake shot him through the chest twice, and he went down. Too easy.

There were more bodyguards left, crouched. Some had already gotten ahold of parachutes and were probably seated beside their bosses. Ready to tandem jump. If they saved their bosses, they would be in for great compensation, no doubt.

Jake stood there, watching carefully, arm extended, gun hot. He was afraid that the moment he reached for an overhead bin and took his eyes from the fuselage, he’d get shot.

Then he realized there was a much simpler way.

“What do we do?” Brandon asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Any ideas?”

She was only trying to buy time for Jake to collect a parachute.

She hoped he was alive.

“We land somewhere?”

“Not fast enough.”

“We jump from the plane?”

Virginia kept the yoke up, kept them in a rapid descent.

“We fight,” said Virginia.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Neither do I. Just trying to make you feel better.”

Virginia noted the other plane was still chasing them.

She would give Jake a little more time.

The woods sheltered them from the rain. Shannon had to ease up on the gas because the car was bouncing through potholes. The path here was small—one-way. Not a problem, though, since no one was out here in the rain.

The path took a sharp left, and she flew into it, the car fishtailed. She kept up a good speed and was gaining distance from these guys. The trees were blowing hard all around, bending in particular directions. Loud and unsettling.

Then she came out the other end of the woods, back into the open, back into the wind and rain. The water came through the opening in the window once more.

She leaned forward, applying more torque to the vehicle.

The hard-packed dirt started to loosen here and the back tires slipped a little. She saw that the path, which was a straight shot from here up to the hills, looked to get increasingly muddy.

She reached the bottom of the hills when the Suburbans emerged from the small woods. She kicked the Camaro into a lower gear, sped up the hills, tires slipping a few times in the mud.

Have to be careful, Shannon.

Jake shot one of the two warlords in the head and then took the other from his seat and held him as a human shield. Sufficiently protected, Jake reached for the overhead bin above his head. Unlatched it. No parachute. He moved to the next.

A bodyguard down the line moved his head above a seat slightly. Jake took the shot. Bullet went into the seat’s headrest.

Thunder cracked, per usual.

For half a second, Jake looked out the back of the now opened-up plane. A wide piece of lightning unfolded just beyond, slicing through the rain. He thought he saw steam on the skeins of the rain. Could be imagining. Still, it was a crazy sight.

And a crazy situation.

All for this girl. Virginia Hart. He asked himself, Why was he doing this for her? Why not follow the order? Perhaps she was endangering innocent Americans in a quest for Calvert. She clearly didn’t have her steps planned out carefully. This situation was unlike any in which he’d been.

CIA and USI shouldn’t have been talking.

That’s what tipped him off.

That and Virginia’s eyes.

He knew she couldn’t be lying, and he wasn’t about to kill her.

It was treason, of course. To disobey his government.

As he moved to the next bin, he grinned, because he realized they might die right now anyways, and it would all be for nothing. It was some kind of weird grin—the kind that happens in rare moments when you are truly amused by the tragedy of life to the extent that you throw all caution to the wind. But in a way that inhabits confidence and not apathy.

“Stay down,” he yelled, reminding the men of his dangerous presence.

He stepped in front of another set of seats containing one of the drug lords. Jake shot him through the head.

“They’re closing in,” said Brandon.

“I can see that,” said Virginia. Lightning from a little off to the right flashed into her eyes. She had to blink against the white noise.

“What are you going to do about it?” asked Brandon.

“You’re a talkative guy.”

“You’re way too calm.”

“I’m always calm.”

“I believe you.”

But Virginia thought back to earlier. Losing her calm over such a simple thing as hiding Reynolds’ body in the bathroom. It was such a simple thing and her heart had risen. No, she reminded herself, her heart had risen because of the stakes of this mission in its entirety.

But now, this moment, she shut down all thinking. If she thought of the endgame, she’d become nervous. She could only focus on the moment.

“How do you stay calm?” he said.

“By choice,” she said.

“I don’t work that way.”

“Honey,” Virginia said, paused. Then turned to him for a moment and smiled. “I can tell.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“Listen,” said Virginia, indicating the radar screen, “there’s no way we can outrun them. There’s no way we can outfight them unless you have an RPG you didn’t tell me about.” He was shaking his head. “We have to ditch.” She looked at him. “You have an insurance policy on this plane? I hope it’s better than my friend Jennie’s on her Honda Civic. She got nothing but bills in the mail and a broken leg and a lot of time to watch Netflix. And no car.”

He couldn’t help but smile, despite the shakiness in his hands now.

“I made all that up,” she said.

He undid his seatbelt and got out of his seat. “I’ve never jumped from a plane.”

Feeling encumbered, Virginia threw off her jacket so she was only wearing the red dress. Then she reloaded her gun, and Brandon followed her out of the cockpit.

Shannon rolled over the top of the first hill. Rocky though it was, the Camaro handled fine.

Continuing down the dirt path, the road steepened down the hill.

Touching the brakes, she kept her hands tight on the wheel.

The car lost traction at a few points and tried sliding sideways, but she always corrected and continued straightforward. Then she reached the nexus of the next hill and began the ascent.

The soil out here was inconsistent.

When she was halfway up this hill, she adjusted her side mirror and saw the Suburbans coming down the previous hill. Only two that she could see. Maybe she’d lost one of them so far.

But she was dealing with the thought that USI had plenty of resources, and these muddy hills wouldn’t slow down the helicopters. They wouldn’t slow down the backup that would arrive on the other side of all this if she didn’t get through fast enough.