I'll Be Home For Christmas
Chapter 5
Huddled in Vanessa's arms, Joe fought to stay conscious. He was feeling lightheaded and the searing flashes of white-hot pain that came with each jarring movement weren't helping any. He focused on Vanessa's voice, the scent of her shampoo and the feel of her hair as it brushed against his cheek.
"Still with me, Babe?" Vanessa murmured in his ear. Her voice was strong but Joe could feel her trembling and he knew it wasn't just from the cold December air seeping into the unheated rear of the vehicle. She was terrified.
"Yup," Joe replied, his voice a little ragged. "Can't get rid of me that easily," he joked.
"As if I would want to," she laughed shakily.
Joe leaned back against her and tried to relax. His heart was racing, beating wildly in his chest. Beads of sweat were slowly dripping into his eyes despite the freezing temperature. He knew that wasn't a good sign. Cracking one eye open he turned his head slightly and glanced at his arm, wrapped in Vanessa's now blood-soaked scarf.
"I think it's stopped for now," Vanessa murmured, gently brushing the sweat from his forehead with a gloved hand. She leaned forward slightly, her lips so close to his ear he could feel the warmth of her breath on his cheek when she spoke. "Hang on, Baby. We'll be home opening Christmas presents before you know it."
Joe nodded, trying to force a smile for her when the truck suddenly swerved right. Seconds later he felt the truck crash into something and the unmistakable screech of twisting, tearing metal.
oooOOOooo
Sitting in the passenger seat of the armored truck, Gus Whitley calmly watched the passing scenery as if he and his partner weren't speeding recklessly through the streets of Bayport on Christmas Eve, with two hostages in the back and a slew of police cars hot on their tail.
"There," he pointed to a sign on the right, indicating the various airport exits. "Go to the private airstrip."
His partner, Jake Hurley, obeyed, following the signs directing them to the smaller airfield reserved for private aircraft and avoiding the chaos and congestion of the main terminal. "Are you sure this is going to work?" Hurley asked nervously, glancing in the rear view mirror. Several airport security vehicles had now joined the numerous Bayport police cars that had been pursuing them since their hair-raising escape from the supermarket.
"Positive," Gus replied, oozing confidence. He gestured to his right and then held on to the door handle as Hurley made the sharp turn.
"Hey! This goes right out onto the runway!" Jake cried out. "And those gates are shut!"
"Ram them," Whitley ordered without batting an eye. "It's an armored truck; the gates won't even make a dent."
The armored vehicle sped up and crashed through the gates, the sound of metal against metal worse than nails on a chalkboard. The truck shuddered but kept on going. Behind them, the police cars and security vehicles slowed and then stopped. Several officers jumped out and began gingerly picking their way through the twisted scraps of metal and chain link fencing, trying to clear a path.
"Now what?" Jake demanded, glancing at his friend. They were now on a course parallel to the private runways with the hangars on their left and the runways on their right.
His partner eyed the hangars speculatively until his eyes lit on an open door. "There!" Gus cried out, pointing to the large building. Just inside the doorway stood a sleek white private jet. "Pull in and stop."
Jake looked at him as if he were insane. "Are you CRAZY?"
"Just do it!" Gus yelled, irritated. Lifting his gun he checked the ammunition and let the safety off.
Muttering under his breath, Jake did as his partner ordered. He'd barely come to a complete stop when Gus bolted from the truck. As soon as he'd parked, he jumped out and joined Whitley at the rear of the truck. Gus had his gun drawn and was pointing it at the door to the rear of the vehicle. "Open it," Gus said.
Jake pulled out the keys and unlocked the door pulling it open. Their hostages were huddled against the back wall. Stepping back as Gus climbed into the truck, Jake glanced over his shoulder nervously. The sirens were still a ways off, their pursuers having been slowed down by the mangled remains of the gate, but they were growing louder by the second.
"Give me a hand," Gus' voice grabbed his attention. Jake turned just in time to see the young woman they'd taken hostage come tumbling out of the truck, landing hard on the ground at his feet. "Get her on the plane!"
Without hesitation, he grabbed the girl around the waist, pressing his gun to her temple. "Do exactly as I say or you die!" he hissed. She whimpered softly, but nodded as he shoved her forward, toward the open door of the private jet. Jake forced her up the small set of stairs and into the plane, shoving her roughly into the closest seat. "Shut up and stay put!" he ordered, aiming his gun directly at her head.
Seconds later he heard Gus, dragging something up and into the plane. Stepping back so he was out of the way, he watched as Gus threw their second hostage on the seat next to the girl.
"Is he dead?" he asked, as the young male's head lolled to the side. He watched for a moment as the girl pulled the boy towards her. Tears streaking her cheeks, she held him gently, murmuring his name over and over.
"Nah, he's fine," Gus replied as he pulled the stairs up, shutting and locking the door of the aircraft. "Just passed out."
"Okay," Jake turned to face his partner, thoroughly irritated. Nothing had gone according to plan! "We're in a private plane neither one of us knows how to fly. We're cornered in a hangar, with two hostages and no money!" he said hotly. "Now what?!"
Gus flopped down in the seat opposite their hostages and pulled out a cell phone. Pressing three buttons, he held the phone to his ear and smiled. "Now we make our demands." Gus looked at the girl and winked. "I bet they've got a white Christmas in Canada."