Page 9 of Dangerous Mission

This weather is unrelenting. I thought the heat was bad before, but now with the wet season upon us, I’m starting to hate rain.

A set of angry eyes slash my way as I look around inside. Griff said his diver’sbigass was stuck—the man was right. This dude is a fireplug. They must have lubed him up to get him in the plane to start with.

Glaring at me, he rattles the seat that’s blocking him from the exit. “You gonna get me out of here?”

“Depends. Where’s the pilot?”

“Crawled out there while the circus was going on.” He slashes a hand through the air. “Fuck if I know where he is.”

I duck back out and look around.

Oh, hell.

The sight of a foot sticking out from under the plane has me frowning.

“Hey, buddy. You okay?”

When I crouch down and look under the upside down plane wing the man skitters back like a crab. Two owlish eyes peer out of a ghost-white face.

“Hey, man, I’m one of the good guys. Let’s get you out of here. You’re in shock.”

“No! Get back! I’m armed.”

He jabs something at me.

“Whoa!”

I hold up my hands and try not to breathe at him. I’venever been shot by a flare gun, and I sure as hell don’t plan on trying it now.

I’ve got enough burn scars.

“How about I back away? You can come out when you’re ready.”

I take a few steps back as Griff slogs his way over to me, water splashing from his boots. His hand is clasped over his ear, his color is bad, and he’s groaning.

For a man like him to look like he does, it must be bad. Proven by the fact that when he reaches my side, he lurches forward and pukes.

Yuck. “Oh, you fucker, that’s gross. Could you do that somewhere else?”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Like on your boots?”

“Get out of here. Go make sure your girlfriend doesn’t get into any more trouble. I’m going to see what I’ve got in the truck to use to cut your guy out of there.”

Banging comes from inside the plane. “Fucking hurry up you assholes!”

I’m pretty sure Griff doesn’t hear the other man’s demand, he’s puking his guts up again.

This time, I grab Griff’s arm and pull him toward my truck. What’s left of my truck. Technically not my truck. Agile Security & Rescue’s truck.

The second one our team has destroyed since we arrived in Vandemora.

The last one blew up.

This one is doing a Grand Canyon impression on its passenger side.

Guess I should be glad that dent is not in my head.

Thanks to her.