I grin. Hot blondes have always been Lucas’s weakness. “Why not,” I say. “She’s all yours if you want her.” We don’t fly out until tomorrow morning, and I have plenty of security in place. If Lucas wants to spend the night fucking our interpreter, I’m not about to deny him that pleasure.
As for me, I plan to use my fist in the shower while thinking of Nora, and then get a good night’s rest.
Tomorrow is going to be an eventful day.
* * *
The flight to Tajikistan from Moscow is supposed to take a little over six hours in my Boeing C-17. It’s one of the three military airplanes that I own, and it’s big enough for this mission, easily fitting in all of my men and our equipment.
Everyone, myself included, is dressed in the latest combat gear. Our suits are bulletproof and flame-retardant, and we’re fully armed with assault rifles, grenades, and explosives. It may be overkill, but I’m not taking chances with my men’s lives. I enjoy danger, but I’m not suicidal, and all the risks I take in my business are carefully calculated. Nora’s rescue in Thailand was probably the most perilous operation I’ve been involved with in recent years, and I wouldn’t have done it for anyone else.
Only for her.
I spend the majority of the flight going through the manufacturing specifications for a new factory in Malaysia. If all goes well, I may shift missile production there from its current location in Indonesia. The local officials in the latter region are getting too greedy, demanding higher bribes each month, and I’m not inclined to indulge them for much longer. I also answer a few questions from my Chicago-based portfolio manager; he’s working on setting up a fund-of-funds through one of my subsidiaries and needs me to give him some investment parameters.
We’re flying over Uzbekistan, just a few hundred miles from our destination, when I decide to check in with Lucas, who’s piloting the plane.
He turns toward me as soon as I enter the cabin. “We’re on track to get there in about an hour and a half,” he says without my asking. “There is some ice on the landing strip, so they’re de-icing it for us right now. The helicopters are already fueled up and ready to go.”
“Excellent.” The plan calls for us to land about a dozen miles from the suspected terrorist hideout in the Pamir Mountains and fly by helicopters the rest of the way. “Any unusual activities in that area?”
He shakes his head. “No, everything is quiet.”
“Good.” Entering the cabin, I sit down next to Lucas in the copilot’s seat and strap myself in. “How was the Russian girl last night?”
A rare smile flashes across his stony face. “Quite satisfying. You missed out.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I say, though I don’t feel even the slightest flicker of regret. There’s no way some one-night stand can approximate the intensity of my connection with Nora, and I have no desire to settle for anything less than that.
Lucas grins—an expression that’s even more uncommon on his hard features. “I have to say, I never expected to see you as a happily married man.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Is that right?” This is probably the most personal observation he’s ever made to me. In all the years he’s been with my organization, Lucas has never before bridged the distance from loyal employee to friend—not that I’ve encouraged him to do so. Trust has never come easy to me, and there have been only a handful of individuals I’ve been able to call ‘friend.’
He shrugs, his face smoothing out into his usual impassive mask, though a hint of amusement still lurks in his eyes. “Sure. People like us aren’t generally considered good husband material.”
An involuntary chuckle escapes my throat. “Well, I don’t know if, strictly speaking, Nora considers me ‘good husband material.’” A monster who abducted her and fucked with her head, sure. But a good husband? Somehow I doubt it.
“Well, if she doesn’t, then she should,” Lucas says, turning his attention back to the controls. “You don’t cheat, you take good care of her, and you’ve risked your life to save her before. If that’s not being a good husband, then I don’t know what is.” As he speaks, I see a small frown appearing on his face as he peers at something on the radar screen.
“What is it?” I ask sharply, all of my instincts suddenly on alert.
“I’m not sure,” Lucas begins saying, and at that moment, the plane bucks so violently that I’m nearly thrown out of my seat. It’s only the seatbelt I’d strapped on out of habit that prevents me from hitting the ceiling as the plane takes a sudden nosedive.