Loco Erick is lounging in the cockpit like a king in his domain, his feet propped up on the dash and his head lolling lazily to one side. I've just woken up from a two hour power nap propped against the empty cargo nets in the back of the plane. Sometimes it comes in handy being trained to sleep anywhere. Erick doesn't stir as I sit down with a creak in the copilot's seat beside him. Judging by the maps spread out on the floor beside me we'll be in Cano Pelour in just over three hours. As I bend over to study the maps more closely a roughly calloused hand clamps down on the back of my neck and shoves the collar of my leather jacket back.
"Military huh? Shame on you son, I thought you were supposed to have the reflexes of a cat." Moving at half the speed which I'm capable of I ease back and pull him away from my exposed neck.
"One of the first rules I learned was to never hurt my pilot if I didn't know how to fly the plane." He chuckles at this with a deep soothing sound. "So what now? We both know that I could kill you before you have time to blink, but I really kind of like you and I'm a good deal rusty at flying this lady." I turn to look at him and we both sit for a few moments sizing the other man up.
"You telling the truth about why you wanted to go to the island?" Erick's voice is deadly serious and I get the feeling that he'll know with some sort of sixth sense whether or not I'm lying to him.
"Yeah, I really do work for Senator Burnhart. Her daughter really was kidnapped. And I sure as hell am looking to get revenge for the three members of my unit that those bastards slaughtered." He scans my face slowly before nodding.
"Well then, that's okay I guess. I'm thinking it's time for us to talk about strategy then. Do you have any plans of the compound on the island or any ideas of what kind of armaments they've got?" My brow furrows roughly.
"What you're gonna help me?" He gives me an exasperated shake of the head.
"Well of course I'm gonna help you son. You ain't the only ex-military man whose unit got cut up by those sons-a-guns." Well that certainly explains his willingness to risk flying a stranger into a heavily armed island.
"I got some idea of the layout from my first tour of duty on the island, but that's about it. We'll both be going into this blind if you're still up for it." He chuckles deeply again.
"Frankly speakin son, I ain't got no family, no girlfriend, and damn few causes to fight for anymore. Old Loco Erick is at your service.
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"Miss Burnhart, your mother would be so disappointed in your behavior. A young lady does not attempt to bite a man, a nice man who was only trying to remove her restraints." I dislike the old man immediately, which is an odd thing to say because he's a pretty harmless looking old guy. His accent is Brazilian I think and his skin is as weathered as an old apple. It's his eyes that repel me because they look as cold and calculating as a tax lawyers.
"I'm sure that my mother is quite disappointed enough in me already, but then I think that would be your fault sir. You see, when I was a very young girl my father went out to a little pacific island to hunt down a cult who had murdered a bunch of people and then he never returned. I guess you wouldn't know anything about that though would you sir?" My tone was meant to be ironic and cutting but the old man isn't taking any offense at it. On the contrary, my standing up to him seems to be vastly amusing to him.
"You have spunk Miss Burnhart, I like that in a girl, even if she has no manners. I'm afraid the accomadations here aren't much to look at, but I trust that in time you will make yourself comfortable." The cold fear that I'm sure that statement was meant to inspire grips my stomach tightly. How long does he intend me to stay here? I was assuming that this was going to be a, be killed or manage to escape situation, it hasn't occurred to be that he might want to keep me here for any reason. The small flame of hope also lights up in my head, that if he plans on keeping me here for some time, that maybe my father could still be alive and held prisoner here.
Two of the old man's beefy henchmen grab me by the arms again, although admittedly they are a good bit more cautious about it this time now that their compatriot is bleeding from the bite marks on his arm. "I regret to inform you that spunk is not all that is required in life though Miss Burnhart. You will also find that money and power are tools which are not to be underrated, and you are currently facing someone with a great deal of both." Oh goody, not only was this guy going to have his goons drag me around by the arms, but he was also going to go all long-winded and smug on me too.
The thugs haul me along a vast number of tiled corridors and up and down innumerable flights of stairs before I'm propelled through a series of security doors and into a tiny and narrow hall filled with metal and small windowed cubicles. A third henchman yanks open one of the doors on my right and shoves me inside so that I fall to my knees. A small shriek beside me causes me to start and whirl around. The screech is not as shocking as the face that greets me when I turn.
"Harker?"