The ramp slammed into Liam and sent him spinning away into the evening sky. She bit back a scream of horror. Heaven forbid that Sullivan figure out what was happening and jerk the plane around even more.
Then impossibly, incredibly, Liam swung closer again, arms extended, reaching for a cable that supported the ramp. He missed, swinging out to the side.
But he hooked his leg.
Then a hand.
And suddenly he was standing on the metal ramp. He released the cable attached to his vest, sending the line snapping away into the night.
A movement from the general yanked her attention forward. The last thing she needed was him noticing anything in back. Not now. Not when Liam had pulled off this unbelievable Hail Mary pass beyond even Chuck Norris legend.
Liam McCabe was an original and he was hers, by God.
Sullivan leveled his gun at her again. “Don’t even think about running for a parachute. I’ll shoot your kneecap before you can clear the cockpit. Just because you’re my hostage doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you, maim you, torture you. Are you with me on that?”
“Right… Of course…” Rachel faced front, working to keep his attention forward, to give Liam as much of an edge as possible, although right now it seemed as if he was capable of anything. Still, she would have his back any way she could. “I shouldn’t have even considered a parachute. I’m so sorry. The last thing I want to do is distract you from flying.”
“Be more careful from now on.” The general smacked her with the muzzle of his gun.
Pain exploded through her head. Sullivan arced his hand to hit her again. She fought the urge to cower, not to mention the urge to puke.
Liam launched into the cockpit.
Sullivan jerked with surprise, lurching the airplane sideways. Rachel slapped her hands against the window, bracing herself. Liam stood sure-footed and grabbed Sullivan’s gun.
He jammed the man’s own weapon right against the general’s temple. “That’s enough. Now fly the airplane. Just fly the plane. Nothing else. Rachel,” he said without looking away from the stunned general, “are you all right?”
Liam may not have glanced her way, but she heard the tense fear, the concern, and yes, even the love in his voice.
“I’m fine. Do what you need to do. I’m okay”—seeing stars and stifling the urge to vomit, but she was alive. Thank God, she was alive because Liam had pulled off the unimaginable.
The general put his hands on the yoke and leveled the airplane. “I could just kill us all. All I need to do is drive this plane straight down into the ocean.”
“Yes, General, you could try that,” Liam said with an unshakable calm she’d seen before, in the Bahamas, when he ran missions. “But I’ll shoot you before you descend even a hundred feet. And while I might do a crappy job flying a plane, I’m willing to give that a try rather than risk a guaranteed crash.”
Rachel watched the general’s eyes dart nervously. Sweat beaded his upper lip while Liam stood steady, a man in charge, a true leader.
“Okay then,” Sullivan said quickly. “You two can take parachutes and jump into the ocean. Your PJ buddies can rescue you out of the ocean. That’s what you guys do, right?”
“We could. And thanks for the generous offer,” Liam said with icy sarcasm, “but I don’t think you’ll want us to do that. See, there’s an F-16 that’s been following you for quite a while now. If we’re gone, you’ll be shot down minutes later.”
The general tensed like a cornered rabbit.
Liam leaned closer. “That would be a damn shame too, because I can tell you—inside scoop?—they want you alive, if possible.”
They did? Although on second thought, of course they did. The military would want to interrogate him, find out how deep his espionage went. And listening to Liam manipulate the general with words as skillfully as he wielded any weapon, Rachel was humbled. A little awed.
And a lot grateful to have him on her side.
“General, being shot down or crashing isn’t any way for a hero like you to go out. Your life and career will be defined by people who aren’t fans of yours. You will never get a chance to have others understand your motives for doing what you did. History is written by the victors, and it’s rare to find a victor at the bottom of the ocean.”
“I’ll get to explain,” Sullivan echoed as if grasping a lifeline. His chest puffed with a sick, twisted bravado.
“Yes, sir,” Liam answered, giving the superior officer a subtle ego stroke with the sir. “You can be certain there are plenty of people on the ground eager to talk to you.”
General Sullivan’s throat moved with a long swallow before he keyed up the radio, calling in to the tower with his landing plan as if this were any normal flight. The egomaniac. Liam had played him perfectly.
The plane banked left, turning toward home in his smoothest move since they’d started this nightmare flight. Liam’s hand cupped Rachel’s shoulder. He never took his eyes or the gun off Sullivan. But his warm steady grip on her shoulder never left her. She covered his hand with hers and squeezed tight in a connection that went deeper than just comfort. Liam held on to her.