To protect me.

  I should feel horrible about that. Right? Why didn’t I? Did I need him to prove himself to me or was I finally able to realize the life I thought had been stolen from me in fact had existed only in the clouds?

  Maybe the last thing I needed was to mind fuck myself.

  I checked the gauges and the flight pattern, expecting to see nothing but open waters and a clear shot to Miami.

  What the hell?

  After double checking that I’d laid out the flight plan correctly, I checked the gauges again. Wait a minute. Something was wrong. How had I not noticed this before? Because the flight plan was automatic once set and I should have gotten notification if there was something wrong. Changes just couldn’t be made.

  We were off course by several hundred miles. Not that it couldn’t be rectified, but I couldn’t believe I’d made such a simple mistake with my calculations. Even with the trauma and the sweep of emotions, my training had never failed me. Not once.

  A tickling sensation swept across the back of my neck. Not exactly my hair standing on end, but close enough. I reset the course, paying close attention that no quick changes were made that would indicate a full instrumentation malfunction.

  No, everything seemed to be on track.

  If so, why did my instinct tell me there was something very wrong? I continued checking every single instrument, hating the self-doubt. This was the wrong time to be worried about my skills.

  A flash of red drew my attention.

  Immediately, my pulse shot up.

  No. Oh, no. One of the engines was failing.

  I tried to figure out what was wrong, continuously checking. The engine was sluggish but working.

  Until it wasn’t.

  The last thing I needed to do at this point was panic.

  As every last bit of training I’d had on how to handle this kind of scenario rushed into my mind, I managed to concentrate. I ran through the various exercises. I’d trained on a similar jet, which allowed me to feel more comfortable with what she was capable of.

  When I manually tried to start the engine, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

  The engine sputtered to life.

  What in the hell had happened?

  I glanced over my shoulder, realizing Vissarian was awake.

  After leaning forward and looking out, he swiveled his head toward mine, our eyes locking. I could swear the man had a sixth sense about him. Immediately, he rose to his feet, taking long strides toward me and into the cockpit.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Why do you think anything is wrong?”

  “Because I know you too well by now. What is happening?”

  Sighing, I checked the engine again. It was still running smoothly. “We momentarily lost an engine.”

  “Damn it. I’m no pilot, but I certainly know better than to think that an engine is going to intermittently work on a recently renovated plane.” Vissarian slipped into the other seat in the cockpit, staring at the instruments. “I knew we should have checked the plane for sabotage.”

  “I thought the plane was secured.”

  He laughed. “There are ways around security, Fallon. You must be aware of that given your military background.”

  Of course he was correct. “We’re also off course.”

  “Fuck me. How can someone manage to do that?”

  “Electronic interference. It’s risky, but possible. I’ve got us back on course.” I didn’t want to add ‘for the time being’ since I had my doubts. There was no chance with the renovation recently completed that two major issues would occur randomly. “What about the people who handled the work on the plane? Trustworthy?”

  “Other than the garish paint job, very. They’ve done work for the family for almost two decades. I don’t like this. Where were we headed?”

  “Restricted airspace around Cuba.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Fallon

  This was not good. Not good at all. The Cuban country didn’t take kindly to visitors just dropping in.

  Vissarian laughed. “Someone wanted us shot down.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions, but this is serious. The Cubans aren’t going to be very happy. However, I’ve got us…” This time, I was warned we were off course. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “I stand corrected. Someone sabotaged the plane. I need to override the instrumentation to try and navigate us to Miami. Don’t worry. I’ve done it before.”

  Strangely enough, I wasn’t terrified, just fucking annoyed. The act was criminal and potentially deadly. It was obvious whoever had done so hadn’t anticipated my background. Thankfully, I knew what I was doing.

  “Just hold on,” I told him, able to smell the tension and anger wrapped around his seductive body. After overriding the automatic system, I was able to take full control. “We’ll be fine.” As long as we had no additional mechanical issues. “We’ll need to get this checked in Miami.”

  “I’ll make a call to the men who did the work once we get closer.”

  “Good. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

  I should have known better than to issue the statement.

  “What’s that red light, Fallon?”

  The slow and steady blinking was every pilot’s worst nightmare. “We’re getting ready to lose the engine.”

  “We can fly with one. Correct?” He tipped his head toward me.

  “Yes, we can.”

  He obviously heard the hesitation in my voice, cursing in Russian under his breath.

  “You speak Russian when you’re angry or upset.”

  His laugh was short lived. “A habit I learned from my father, who wasn’t terribly interested in learning English when we arrived. It took an act of God to help him realize he really needed to learn the language. On the flipside, he required his sons to learn Russian. Since my brother was born in the States, he fought tooth and nail.”

  “You’ll need to teach me a few words one day.” The chatter was only to keep his eyes off the gauges. I was using all my observation skills to do so myself.

  I also noticed we were dangerously close to restricted airspace, enough so I anticipated my communications system would soon be lit up with warnings.

  Something else I didn’t want to tell the frustrated man hell bent on revenge.

  A few minutes passed and controlling the plane was becoming more difficult, sluggish when that was the last thing I needed.

  Another warning light popped on the moment my headset was jammed with warnings to leave the airspace.

  “What the fuck is going on?” he gritted out.

  “We’re having some issues. Let me see what I can do.” After identifying ourselves, I opted to explain the situation. “El avión está experimentando una falla en la instrumentación.”

  The jet is experiencing instrumentation failure.

  There was a hesitation before my plea was answered. “Diríjase inmediatamente a Miami.”

  Head immediately to Miami.

  “That’s what I’m trying to do, you asshole.” I’d momentarily turned off the microphone before spouting off my displeasure, but when the plane lurched forward, I realized I was going to need to get nice and cozy with the bastards. “Fuck.”

  “What?”

  “Secure Bella for me. Would you? And you might want to put your seatbelt on.”

  “Why?” he grilled.

  “Because we’re taking a detour to Cuba whether they agree or not.” The closest airport was the Santiago de Cuba International Airport. Landing in a hostile country wasn’t what I’d had on the day’s dance card and making it before sliding into the deep blue ocean was still a crapshoot, but there was no other choice.

  “Fuck. Fuck!” Vissarian jerked up from the seat, immediately grabbing his phone.

  “Mayday. Mayday. Este es el vuelo N65oG2 con una señal de socorro. Solicitamos permiso para aterrizar en el Aeropuerto Internacional de Santiago de Cuba.”

  This is flight N65oG2 with a mayday. Requesting permission to land at Santiago de Cuba International Airport.

  When the goddamn coms grew silent, I was more than pissed. “Do you fucking hear me?”

  “Who is speaking, please?”

  Finally, someone who knew English. At least he’d heard my fucking level of frustration. “This is Captain Fallon Zimmerman. We are in a crisis. I’ve lost one engine and am about ready to lose the second. This is not a watercraft. I repeat, this is not a watercraft.”

  The bastards took their sweet time. I knew they required permission from their damn government, but at this rate, I could swim to shore faster. Silence wasn’t golden at this point. I continued to look at the instrumentation regarding the engine.

  I was going to lose her at any minute.

  “Negative. You do not have permission. Please set a course for Miami International Airport.”

  The man’s voice grated the fuck out of my nerves.

  “What the fuck is their problem?” Vissarian popped his head back into the cockpit. “Give me that.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t. Sit your ass down. I’ll handle this. I am the pilot.” I threw him a look and I’d be damned if he didn’t do what I asked.

  Or what I’d commanded.

  Just like he did with me.

  “Listen to me, whoever you are. I have Vissarian Dmitriyev onboard this plane. If you don’t know who he is, look him up, but you better be damn quick about it because I am flying to that goddamn airport. Shoot me down if you need to, but the blood will be on your hands.”

  You bet I was pissed.

  When I tossed my headset, Vissarian chuckled from beside me. “Don’t let me get on your bad side.”

  “This isn’t anything to joke about.”

  As if to prove we were in dire straits, the second engine went completely.

  “What the fuck?” Vissarian leaned forward.

  “Keep your seatbelt on and lock your tray stand in place. We’ll soon be experiencing a bumpy ride.”

  “Are you fucking gliding in?”

  One last look in his direction before I had to concentrate. “Yes, I am.”

  “Oh, fuck me.”

  I grabbed the headset, repeating the flight number and the mayday signal. Then I threw in the last words that I’d waste time saying. “Please provide coordinates for a landing location and have other planes diverted from our airspace. Both engines are gone. I’m currently at an altitude of fifteen thousand feet and gliding down fast. At this point, I have control of the joystick, but could lose that at any moment. We’ve been sabotaged. Please advise.”

  And the waiting game continued as I paid attention to every gauge, every movement.

  We broke through the clouds before the bastards got back to me.

  “Flight N65oG2, please proceed to runway 51. I repeat, head to runway 51. Emergency vehicles will be standing by. Once landed, you will stay inside your plane. Is that understood?”

  “Now the bastards want to give me a hard time.” I turned on the microphone as Vissarian growled beside me. “Sí, señor. Muchas gracias por su ayuda.” Said with full sarcasm.

  Yes, sir. Thank you oh-so much for your assistance.

  Maybe I was pushing the attitude a little bit, but we weren’t their enemy.

  At least not right now. Maybe dropping Vissarian’s name had given them a reason to change their minds. Whatever the case, I didn’t have time to give a shit.

  Not when we could be coming in for a crash landing.

  “I need to make a phone call,” he said out of the blue when I had the airport in sight.

  “Now? Are you kidding me? Calling to give your goodbyes?” You bet I was hot under the collar. Whoever had sabotaged the plane had meant for both of us to die. Hell hath no fury like a woman whose furry baby was threatened.

  “Someone I trust we might need.”

  “Is Bella okay?”

  “She’s fine. Concentrate.”

  Huffing, I took a deep breath, trying to zone out of everything that was happening except for flying the plane.

  Just like the way my commander had taught me.

  Something else to pray for. That the lever on the landing gear worked. If we came down on the plane’s belly, I had serious doubts we’d survive.

  When I heard the appropriate sound, I let out a little cheer.

  I’d been in combat. I’d caught a hailstorm of bullets during one mission and I’d had to come in for a crash landing. Everyone had survived. Only then the situation hadn’t been personal. I’d been flying and serving my country.

  This was extremely personal.

  And I was furious.

  With the runway in sight, I held my breath. The plane was starting to rattle, the joystick becoming more difficult to maneuver.

  “You can do this,” he said from beside me.

  One last glance of his handsome face. “If I don’t get another chance to tell you this. I think I’m falling for you.” My admittance before possible death. Why that one?

  Whether or not he heard or what I’d said was true didn’t matter.

  All that did was landing safely.

  I’d remember every harrowing moment as the jet dropped lower and lower.

  “Hold on,” I said quietly.

  Just as the wheels touched down.

  With both hands on the joystick, I gritted my teeth as I pulled the brakes. “Come on, baby. Come on. Come… on.”

  Slow.

  Slower.

  Slower still.

  We were reaching the end of the fucking runway.

  “Now!” I yelled as if the plane could listen.

  Maybe there was such a thing as divine intervention, because when the plane rolled to a stop, I sensed I was running out of air.

  “Oh. My. Fucking. God. You are amazing.” Vissarian leaned over, brushing his lips across mine.

  Gasping, I checked the instruments again before shutting everything down. That’s when I noticed the number of Cuban fire trucks, some as old as my father would have been, but at least the air traffic controller had taken me seriously.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here,” he said as soon as I unbuckled my seatbelt.

  “We were told to stay on the plane.”

  He grinned as if all of this was one big joke. “Since when do I follow rules?”

  “Oh, yeah. How could I forget? Let me grab Bella and a leash.” The rush of adrenaline was potent, as if I’d taken drugs. Secretly, I was both shocked and thrilled.

  But mostly I was pissed.

  “Come on, baby girl. I think we have a new adventure ahead of us.”

  Vissarian opened the door, immediately tossing down the flexible stairs.

  With Bella in my arms, I allowed him to guide us down the metal steps onto the tarmac.

  And straight into a group of military men all holding weapons.

  “Well, fuck,” he hissed.

  “I told you so,” I said softly.

  “Meaning what?”

  “They think it’s a Ganja plane.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Vissarian

  “Lo tomaré desde aquí, jefe.”

  I’ll take it from here, Chief.

  As soon as I heard my buddy’s voice, I was able to breathe easier.

  “We’re getting out of here,” I told Fallon, who’d almost gotten us arrested when one of the militia had questioned her. And I’d been damn proud, almost egging her on.

  I’d known she was feisty, but she’d shoved every bit of despair she was owed after what I’d told her and what she’d seen at the hotel into fury.

  It was the kind of fury that could easily kill a man with her venomous gaze alone.

  All the men who’d dared stick guns in our faces were lucky to still be standing.

  I’d had the choice of calling my Pakhan, who was thousands of fucking miles away, or the one man I knew could dig us out of this hell hole. I chose option number two.

  Our phones had been taken, our passports confiscated, and we’d been tossed into a room without so much as being offered the opportunity to call an attorney.

  That’s not the way it worked in Cuba. Rights were almost nonexistent.

  From what I could tell, we’d been labeled public enemy number one.

  The bastards had searched the plane inside and out, looking for drugs. I’d been surprised they hadn’t planted a couple of kilos just for kicks and giggles.

  The entire time Fallon had berated every police officer who’d come within close proximity, her excellent Spanish accent and knowledge of the language keeping the soldiers on edge.

  We were lucky she hadn’t gotten us killed in the process.

  Only my threat to spank her ass when we were released had gotten her to quiet down for longer than thirty seconds. And damn it, her rebellious nature rising like a phoenix kept my balls tight as drums.

  “Who is out there and how can you be so certain we can trust him?” Fallon threw out. She’d done nothing but pace the floor of the small interrogation room we’d been tossed into, every word out of her mouth clipped given her anger.

  The only cooing sounds I’d heard had been when talking to Bella. That was after she’d pounded on the door demanding a bowl of water.

  “He’s an old buddy of mine. Used to live in Vegas.”

  “And he chose to come here?”

  I gave her a stern look. “He’s from here. Lots of history. Don’t allow the experience at the airport to color the rest of the country. You might be surprised.”

  “We’ve been treated like criminals. The one bastard tried to put handcuffs on me.”

  “Then you reminded them who I was. And who you were for that matter.”

  She gave me an odd look, even growling like the animal I knew her to be in bed. “You’ve been here before. Haven’t you?”

  “I cannot confirm nor deny.”

  “Then why not pull all those strings you have so we didn’t need to endure being treated like animals?”

  How could I not grin from her arrogance and the question? “Because I was having way too much fun watching you berate them.”

  Before she had a chance to either punch me in the lip or send me straight to hell with the daggers in her eyes, the door opened and in walked a man I hadn’t seen in almost five years.