I shook my head in disbelief, confused by everything. “Who hired you?”
“The big boss man himself, Rhys Coleman. Never a good thing killing a king pin’s son. Muddies the water,” Anna replied with her back turned to me.
“I didn’t kill Duncan,” I said, lifting my hand in the air and shaking my finger in protest. “What happened on that damn yacht when the tsunami hit is all on Duncan, not me. It shouldn’t have gone down the way it did.”
“Well, doesn’t really matter now, does it? What’s done is done and Mr. Coleman wants your head and that of your family’s pretty bad.” Anna turned toward me. I caught a glimpse of the Glock secured in her waistband. I looked down at the weapon, then back up to her. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. If I wanted you dead, that would’ve happened back in the alley. You’re safe from me, so you can relax.”
My muscles tensed anyway, despite her reassurance. I glanced back up to her. “If you’re not here to collect on my head like the others, then why are you helping me? I’m assuming you’re helping me, right?”
She shrugged. “You’re more of a means to an end, really.”
I raised my brow. “How so?”
“I was in LA tracking down a possible lead on the people who killed my parents when I got wind of the contract on you. Mr. Coleman said there were others coming after you as well. So, I figured I’d use you as bait. Get close to you. Find out who all is after you and your family. I need to find the connection with who they are and who had my family killed.”
My head swelled with confusion. I stood there, stunned from the fact that she was a hit man and could do the things she could, much less everything else. “To say that I’m confused is an understatement. Where did you learn to do all of this? How long have you been after them?”
Anna sighed, then ran her hand over her face. “Listen. I’ll explain everything once we get a fire going, all right?” She glanced toward the black void beyond the stalls across the barn from her and craned her neck.
Anna reached for her Glock, then pressed her finger to her lips. “Be quiet.”
I glanced toward the darkness, searching for what spooked her. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“There’s something back there.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
SCARFACE
A dull, nagging pain surged through my body. Smoke and the smell of sulfur filled the air, making it difficult to breathe. I laid prone on my stomach, the side of my face smooshed against the cracked window of the fuselage. Despite feeling battered and beaten, I’d survived.
My eyes cracked open to a bright light shining over the disheveled mess of the cabin. A slight film coated my vision, making it hard to see in the dim jet.
Cold air blew over the top of my bald head, causing me to shiver. The wind whistled in my ears.
“Who the hell are these guys?” a muttered voice asked from nearby.
It didn’t sound like Jackal or Grizzly from what I could tell.
“I have no clue, Frank. From the look of this plane, though, I think it’s safe to assume they have money,” a deep, raspy voice answered. “It’s something like those rich people have. I wonder if this is a G6 or something similar?”
“Does it matter if it is, Jim? Just focus and stop wasting time. It’s not like we’re going to be able to load it in the back of the jeep and haul it off right now. We’ll have to get a flatbed trailer from the compound, so we can strip this thing to the steel skeleton.” A pause lingered for a second, followed by a dry cough. “That storm will be on top of us soon, and I want to be done and gone from here before it arrives. All of that crap falling outside is making it hard to breathe. We’ll need to bring masks or something when we come back later. For now, just look for anything of value. We’ll worry about salvaging this wreckage later as long as the authorities don’t get to it first. Besides, you know how my brother gets with radio silence.”
“I don’t think the police or anyone else is going to give two shits about this scrap heap with that mess going on outside,” Jim replied, clearing his throat. “These poor bastards landed in the middle of nowhere, so I don’t think help will be coming anytime soon. Just in case, let’s not waste any time and get this done.”
The two men continued bickering and rummaging through the wreckage for anything of value. I laid motionless as they walked all around me.
I couldn’t lay eyes on Jackal or tell whether he lived or not.
Grizzly’s body leaned to the side with his arm draped over the armrest in the cockpit. Gray snowfall gathered on the control panel and gauges through the shattered windshield.
A cough sounded, followed by his arm twitching and his head moving. He stirred in his seat, coming to.
The two men stopped, then trained both of their flashlights at the cockpit.
“Did you hear that? I think the one in the cockpit is still alive,” Jim said, his voice rising an octave. “What do you want to do?”
“Shit. Not what we need. Give me a minute to think here, will ya,” Frank answered in a huff. “The way I see it, we have two choices here. We can cut our loses and leave, or we can take care of that burly fellow up there and these other two. Drag them outside and away from the plane. With the way the ash is
