“Congratulations,” the driver said as he peeked over his shoulder at Madeline. “Everyone thinks you’re dead.”
“That’s not what he said,” Madeline countered. “Did you not hear him use the word speculation?”
The man pulled out his phone and scrolled through a social media site. He snickered and shook his head.
“What is it?” Madeline asked.
“Everyone already believes you’re dead. The hashtag #RIPFirstLady is trending right now. It worked.”
“Speaking of which, we’re both going to be dead if we don’t get out and escort her to the general,” the other guard said.
They scanned the area before exiting the vehicle and opening Madeline’s door. She shuffled to the side and placed her feet on the concrete, which seemed to stretch on endlessly in every direction leading away from her location.
“Is the general here?” she asked.
One of the men nodded. “He’s been holed up here for a few days now while waiting for you.”
“That’s the kind of romantic idea you can’t encapsulate in a short four-line rhyme inside a greeting card,” the driver said.
“And that’s a good thing,” Madeline said.
About twenty yards outside the hanger, the engines on a Gulfstream G600 were already humming, drowning out all other noise.
She took a deep breath and strode toward the office located just inside the hangar. When she opened the door, General Fortner stood and greeted her with a hug and a kiss.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“Yes, I just have to grab my bag from the car,” she said.
“We need to go quickly before someone figures out what happened to you,” Fortner said.
“But I thought you said everything we were doing would protect me from the truth ever getting out.”
Fortner nodded. “And I hope it does, but I don’t want to take any chances. That’s why it’s just you and me tonight flying this bird.”
“What?” she asked, her mouth falling agape.
“You heard me.”
“But I haven’t flown in several years, much less ever captained one of these planes.”
Fortner held out his hands in a calming gesture. “You’ll be fine. I’ve flown this plane plenty of times. I’ll show you the ropes. Now go get your stuff so we can get going.”
Madeline forced a smile as she twirled her silky, brown hair around her finger, a nervous tick she thought she’d left behind in high school. The weight of her decision had already hit, but the real adventure was about to begin. And she couldn’t wait to get started.
She strode toward the vehicle and reached inside to grab her bag. The driver handed her a gun.
“You might need this,” he said.
“I hope not,” she said.
As soon as she slammed the door, the car sped away. She stopped and bit her lip, suppressing a wide grin. Fortner stood at the top of the steps and motioned for her to join him.
“Come on,” he yelled. “Let’s blow this joint.”
She took one step toward the plane when she saw a pair of headlights bouncing along the tarmac and closing fast on her position. She hesitated, unsure of whether she had enough time to make it to the plane before the car arrived.
When the first shot was fired, she didn’t hesitate any longer and sprinted back toward the hangar.
CHAPTER 32
HAWK STRAINED TO SEE who the person was standing just outside the hangar, while Black roared toward it. A Gulfstream G600 jet was waiting about thirty yards away from the person’s position. Hawk checked his gun and scanned the area once more. There was no backup coming. Blunt had stressed that this situation with the first lady needed to be handled in as quiet of a manner as possible.
As they drew closer, Hawk realized the person was Madeline Young.
“That’s her,” he said. “Cut her off so she can’t reach the plane.”
“That was my plan,” Black said.
Hawk rolled down his window and fired a warning shot in Madeline’s direction. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if she would chance a dash toward the jet or retreat to the hangar. After a quick glance back at the jet, she raced inside the hangar’s office.
“Get closer before you stop,” Hawk instructed.
Black complied and halted their vehicle at an angle, positioning in between the office and the jet. There wasn’t a straight shot between them. If she was going to get to the plane, she was going to have to shoot her way through or run around. And Hawk was convinced they could handle either scenario. But there was something he wasn’t counting on.
When Hawk stepped out of the car, he was surprised to hear the engines already whirring. He snapped a glance over his shoulder and noticed a man standing just inside the doorway at the top of the steps.
Hawk immediately ducked back inside as a bullet pinged off the car.
“What’s the situation?” Black asked as he ducked low.
“It’s Fortner. He’s already on the plane, and it’s ready to leave.”
“Damn it. We’ve put ourselves in a kill box.”
“I know,” Hawk said. “Why don’t you back up a little bit and then you can drive slowly toward the office so I can utilize the car as a cover?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Black threw the car in reverse but kept his head low. Fortner fired two more shots at their vehicle but didn’t hit the glass, instead attempting to flatten a tire. Once Black started moving forward again, Hawk slipped outside and walked alongside the car, keeping his head down. After a minute, Black had slowly maneuvered close to the office at an angle that would be more difficult for Fortner to get
