Then she wouldn't be here. She'd be home and safe, instead of facing … She stared up at Jack. "Can you at least ask him what the light was indicating?"
"Kristy-"
She nodded to the intercom button. It washer life at stake, too. "Will youask him?"
Jack heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Trust the pilot. He's a professional. And if it was serious, Simon wouldn't be chatting about contacting air traffic control. He'd be declaring an emergency and taking us down."
Kristy peered out her window at the last orange sun rays in a darkening sky. She didn't see a fire, didn't hear any metal twisting, and the aircraft wasn't losing altitude or bouncing around. Then the steward appeared, looking calm and collected as he cleared away the drinks.
She supposed there would be a few more signs of panic if a fiery death was imminent.
"Relax," said Jack.
"It'll be fine," said Hunter.
But both men were on alert.
Then something banged on the airframe. The plane lurched sideways, and the steward nearly fell over.
"Buckle up," Jack commanded.
The man nodded, his face instantly pale. He slipped into the nearest seat and clipped on the belt.
There was relative silence for a few minutes. No more banging, and the plane stayed smooth, the engines purring normally.
"Ever been to Vegas?" Jack asked into the steady hum.
Kristy blinked at him.
"Ever been to Vegas, Kristy?"
She shook her head, stroking Dee Dee with a trembling hand. She wished now she'd left the little dog at home. At least then Dee Dee would be safe. Sinclair would have adopted her, Kristy was sure of that.
She blinked away a burning in her eyes. Sinclair. What if she never saw her sister again? Or her parents?
What if her family was forced to watch the twisted, fiery wreckage of the jet on the evening news, knowing-
"Kristy?"
She glanced up to see Jack's expression soften with sympathy. "Everything's going to be just-"
The plane banged again, this time taking a sudden drop in altitude and leaving her stomach behind.
"Simon is the best in the business," Jack bravely carried on.
"That's reassuring, but it's the plane that's the problem," Kristy reminded him.
"It's just an indicator light."
"Well, it is indicatingsomething. "
Her fear morphed into anger. She knew it didn't make sense to be mad at Jack. It wasn't his fault they were all about to die. But he was the one arguing with her, and she couldn't seem to bring herself to think logically.
The intercom crackled to life. "Mr. Osland?"
Jack was quick to respond. "Yes, Simon?"
"It's the hydraulics on the right aileron. But we're compensating. And we're cleared to land. I don't want anybody back there to panic."
"We're not panicking," Jack responded.
"I'mpanicking," Kristy hissed.
"He says he's compensating."
"What else is he going to say? That we should write our wills on a cocktail napkin?"
Hunter crossed to the seat beside Kristy. He belted himself in then took her hand in him. "If it was a serious danger, he'd be telling us to assume the crash position."
"Do we know the crash position?"
"Feet back, head down, hands behind your neck." Jack demonstrated.
Kristy tugged her hand from Hunter's and tried it, just in case, while the landing gear whined, and the wheels clunked into place.
Simon's voice came over the speaker once again. "Relax, everybody. Make sure your seat belts are tight. I'm not expecting anything but a slightly bumpy landing."
Kristy clasped Dee Dee to her chest, glancing out the window, trying desperately to quell the churning in her stomach.
She could see the outskirts of the city. The houses loomed large against the desert landscape. The strip rose up in the distance, glaringly brilliant and really quite beautiful from this angle. She'd give a lot to see the inside of a bright, clanking, smoky casino or even an Elvis chapel before she died.
"Kristy?"
"What?"
Jack reached for her hand across the table. "Look at me."
She glanced up as his warm palm closed over hers. She wondered vaguely how his hand could be warm at a time like this. Hers felt like ice.
"What the dog's name?" he asked softly.
"Dee Dee."
"Dee Dee's going to be okay," he said.
His eyes locked onto hers, and his deep voice rumbled through her body. "You're going to be okay.
And I'm going to be okay. An hour from now, we'll all be laughing about this over wine and grilled lobster on the Strip."
Kristy didn't really believe him, but he seemed to be waiting for an answer. So she gave the barest of nods, and he squeezed her hand in response.
"Just keep looking at me, Kristy. I swear it'll be all right."
She held his gaze, and she started to feel hope.
The runway rushed up to meet them. The plane lurched to one side. Red emergency lights flashed in her peripheral vision. But for some ridiculous reason, Kristy kept her faith in Jack.
Two
As the Gulfstream finally coasted to a halt at the far end of the runway, Jack quickly rose from his seat.
There was no reason for anyone to be hurt, but he wanted to make sure.
True to Simon's word, it had only been a bumpy landing, followed by a long stretch of deceleration.
Even now, the emergency vehicles were struggling to catch up.
Still holding her hand, Jack went to Kristy first. "Okay?" he asked, peering into her eyes.
She gave him a series of swift nods, one hand stroking the little dog.
He smiled at her, let go of her hand and moved forward to where Leonardo was belted in. The man looked pale, but otherwise perfectly fine. Jack strode past the small closet and pulled open the flimsy cockpit door. "Simon?"
"All's well," Simon confirmed.
The copilot gave Jack a thumbs up.
There was a loud banging on the cabin door, and Jack quickly released the latch and lowered the staircase.
"Everybody okay?" shouted the fireman standing closest to the stairs. He was flanked by two others in their turnout gear. Behind the trio was a lights-flashing fire engine, an ambulance and two paramedics on the rain-spattered runway.
"We're all fine," said Jack as an airport security car pulled up, yellow lights adding to the show.
Simon appeared next to Jack's shoulder.
"A hydraulic problem," he told the emergency workers. "I'll meet you inside to fill out the paperwork."
"You need me for anything?" asked Jack.
Simon shook his head. "I'll take care of it. But you'll have a few hours to kill."
Jack nodded then turned to find Hunter and Leonardo both on their feet. Leonardo was helping Kristy into her coat, balancing the little dog in his arms while he tried to be of assistance in the narrow aisle.
"We might as well go inside," Jack said to them. "It'll take some time to do the incident report and look at repairs."
"Can I be of assistance?" asked Leonardo.
"Don't worry about us," said Jack. "Simon or I will call you when we know anything."
"Thanks," said Leonardo, handing the dog back to Kristy and giving it a pat on the head.
Jack gestured for Kristy to be first out of the aircraft, and one of the firemen came partway up the stairs to take her hand.
"I'm fine," she protested.
"It's slippery from the rain, ma'am. If you follow me to the car, security will take you to the terminal."
Jack shrugged into his overcoat and followed them down the stairs. Hunter was right behind him, and the three hitched a ride in the back seat of the sedan to the main terminal at McCarran International.
As the glass doors of the terminal glided open, he breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone was safe, and the plane was intact. But, as soon as those facts were neatly filed away, his pragmatic brain began calculating the silver lining. At the very least, he'd bought himself three or four hours. Because, despite his connection with Kristy during the emergency landing, his mission hadn't changed. And he now had some extra time to figure out how to stop her wedding to his grandfather.
The doors swooshed shut, and the noise and confusion of the main terminal engulfed them. They joined the crowd snaking its way past the luggage carousels and rental-car booths, and Jack fought an urge to put an arm around her shoulders and keep her close to his side. Ridiculous, he told himself. She'd had a bit of a scare, sure. But she was from New York City. This crowd certainly wasn't going to rattle her.