Grizzly lifted his arm and groaned.
“Well, we need to decide fast since he’s waking up,” Jim replied. “It’ll be much easier to handle him right now while he’s out of it. Your call, Frank. This was your idea and you spotted it.”
“Damn it. I don’t want to leave just yet. Let’s take care of them fast and finish up while we can. If we need to come back later, we will, but I’d rather do what we can now so when Charlie crawls up my ass, it won’t be for nothing,” Frank answered.
They made for the cockpit in a single file line. Both men wore coats with hoods pulled over their heads, concealing their faces. They pushed past the wires hanging from the ceiling and stopped beside Grizzly.
I pressed my hands against the wall of the cabin and pushed away. My neck throbbed—a pulsating pain that lanced down my back. I watched the two men wrestle Grizzly from his seat as he moaned in agony.
I turned a bit farther, looking past my seat to the other side of the plane.
Jackal sat in his seat, slumped over and still. More gray snow blew in through the large fissure in the fuselage above the wing. Dark shadows covered a portion of his head, making it hard for me to see his face.
The two men dragged Grizzly down the aisle by his shoulders. He groaned in agony. His legs scooted across the floor, past my body. He spoke in a weakened tone, his words jumbled and indiscernible.
“Don’t worry, friend. We got you.” They vanished outside with Grizzly, leaving Jackal and me inside the plane.
I moved away from the window and crawled across the floor. My lungs ached and I shoved the sleeve of my coat into my mouth to muffle a deep cough. I grabbed Jackal’s leg and shook it. He didn’t respond.
Thunder rumbled in the sky, shaking what was left of the fuselage. Lightning crackled, illuminating the contorted metal of the aircraft’s wing.
Heavy footfalls sounded on the floor to my side. A silver gray covered the top of the person’s boots.
“Hey. Looks like we got another one that’s awake in here now,” Jim said, in a loud shout.
“Bring him and the other guy out here,” Frank replied, his voice low and muffled by the rumbling thunder and gusting wind. “We don’t have much time and need to take care of them.”
I reached inside my coat for the United Cutlery Push Dagger. The footfalls came toward me.
His flashlight beamed me in the face. “Don’t you boys worry. We’re going to take care of you.”
I pulled the dagger from its sheath and held it close to my chest. Frank kneeled beside me, grabbed my arm, then tossed me over onto my back.
He hovered above me, not more than an inch away. “What’s that in your–”
I grabbed his forearm, jerked him toward me, and jammed the dagger into his gut. The tip punctured his coat and beyond.
The flashlight fell from his hands and clattered off the floor of the jet. I held firm, stabbing him multiple times in the stomach.
A blood-curdling welp and faint scream fled his lips. He dumped over onto his side, and crawled toward the exit of the plane, calling for his partner.
I pushed up from the floor and went after him on my hands and knees. My fingers grabbed the back of the jacket’s hood and wrenched him toward me.
“Please, don’t kill–”
The dagger plunged into the side of his neck, then twisted, silencing the whimpering man’s pleas for mercy.
“I showed you as much mercy as you were going to show us,” I replied, whispering in his ear. “Be thankful. I have released you from this horrid world. Your friend will soon join you.”
His body twitched a moment longer before laying still on his side. The flashlight laid on the floor with its beam trained at his face, revealing his wide eyes and open mouth.
“Frank, what the hell is going on in there? Get those boys out here so we can finish this up,” Jim yelled.
I took a deep breath and got off Frank’s dead body. My hand dripped wet with blood as I struggled to get my legs under me. The world spun. I rocked from side to side, feeling like I could collapse at any moment.
A bold, bright light shone through the side of the contorted steel of the fuselage, washing over the wreckage of the cabin.
I collapsed against the wall, dropping my dagger as Jim entered the plane. The weapon clattered off the floor as the light trained in my direction.
“Jesus Christ,” Jim shouted and backed away. His hand reached for the piece tucked in his waistband. He pulled it free and brought it to bear.
I stumbled forward and slapped his arm toward the floor. The gun barked a harsh report from the enclosed space. The noise hammered my head. A loud ringing filled my ears.
He struck me in the side of the head with the flashlight—adding insult to injury. I fell to the floor, hitting hard, then rolled to my side.
“Where’s Frank, you bastard?” Jim asked, kicking me in the gut.
Each blow to my midsection made it harder to breathe. I gasped for air between each strike as I shielded my body with my forearms.
He stopped and hovered over me. His flashlight moved from my head. “Oh shit. You killed Frank.”
I hacked up a wad of blood, then spat it to the floor of the jet.
Jim rolled me over, flat on my back, then straddled my waist. He dropped the
