I'll Be Home For Christmas
Chapter 10
Through half-closed eyes, Joe stared at the dark brown hair of the man in the pilot's seat; the man who'd helped Vanessa get him up and buckled in his seat. He hissed as Vanessa pressed down on his shoulder, the bleeding having started anew.
"Sorry, Babe," she murmured, her voice weary.
He focused on the back of the pilot's head partly to keep his mind off what Vanessa was doing, and partly because…
'Nah, can't be…' Joe thought. Yeah, he'd been barely holding onto consciousness at the time, but the guy had looked so much like Frank it was scary! If he hadn't been so loopy from the pain, he would have sworn it was Frank…but that couldn't be. Frank didn't even know what had happened or where he was. He must have been hallucinating, wishing his brother were here. But that voice… "I'm the pilot."
Joe stared harder, practically willing the man to turn around – and then he did. 'Frank?!' Joe blinked, wanting to believe what he was seeing but still a little unsure, until the man spoke again.
"Everybody buckled up?"
Joe closed his eyes and rested his head back against the seat, relief flooding through him. Frank WAS here! He felt the plane lurch and realized they were leaving the hangar.
'Distraction…he needs a distraction.' Joe was cognizant enough to know he'd be useless in a fight. Providing a distraction however, was definitely within the realm of possibility. If he could do something to distract one of the men….His eyes drifted across the aisle to the man who was supposed to be watching him and Vanessa. They'd barely made it out of the hangar and he was already looking a little green! 'Know how ya feel, pal,' Joe silently commiserated. While he'd gotten used to flying in small aircraft, he couldn't honestly say he enjoyed it.
Reaching up with his left hand, he tugged gently on Vanessa's arm. Immediately she leaned down close to him, brushing a hand against his cheek. "Are you okay, Baby?"
Joe smiled at the warmth of her hand on his face. Despite the sweat periodically dripping down his forehead, he was shivering inside. "Distraction," he murmured.
"What?" Vanessa asked, leaning closer still, worry filling her blue-grey eyes.
"Distraction," Joe repeated. "Frank…needs a distraction."
"Now?!" Vanessa hissed in surprise.
Joe shook his head ever so slightly. He was thinking clearly enough to know a distraction before they got airborne would be suicidal. Frank wouldn't be able to leave the cockpit while they were taxiing or taking off. Joe understood he was in no shape to subdue anybody, which left Vanessa. 'When hell freezes over!' Joe thought to himself about putting his girlfriend in such a dangerous position. Although he knew if she thought that was the only way to get them out of this mess, she wouldn't hesitate for a second.
Once they were at cruising altitude, however, Frank could put the plane on autopilot. If Joe could distract the thug across the aisle, maybe get him to drop his gun, Frank and Vanessa, between the two of them, could handle it from there – at least he hoped they could. If not, none of them would be home for Christmas!
"When we get airborne," Joe murmured, turning his head towards Vanessa. "He can use the autopilot; take out the guy up front."
"Okay," Vanessa nodded, her eyes drifting towards the man seated a few feet away from them, and she almost smiled. She leaned her head close to Joe's ear and whispered, "We haven't even taken off yet and he looks like he's gonna barf. We can take him."
Joe grinned and nodded. 'That's my girl!'
"So what's the distraction? And when?" she asked, gently stroking his cheek again.
Joe leaned into her touch and opened his eyes, her lips only inches away. Leaning forward, he kissed her gently. "I'll tell you when." Feeling the plane rapidly gaining speed for take-off, he closed his eyes and waited…
oooOOOooo
Vanessa held Joe's hand loosely in hers, glancing across the aisle at the man who was supposed to be watching them. Now that they were actually in the air, at cruising altitude she presumed as they had leveled off several minutes earlier, he looked decidedly…green. Her eyes drifted to Joe and she frowned. He'd seemed to be improving, talking to her coherently about a distraction but then Frank took off.
The pressure of increasing the speed enough to get airborne and then their rapid ascent had taken a toll on Joe. The force of gravity pressed them all back into their seats – and added additional painful pressure to Joe's shoulder. He didn't make a sound but gripped the armrest with his left hand so hard Vanessa thought for sure it was going to snap off! And he hadn't moved or spoken a word since.
Watching him worriedly, Vanessa brushed her lips where he'd kissed her only moments ago, her eyes getting misty. While she had planned on spending some quality time alone with Joe under the mistletoe this evening, this was definitely not how she had envisioned their Christmas Eve turning out! She felt the fear she'd been fighting all night trying to creep up on her and forced it back down. No! She was not going to break now! These men had taken too much from her tonight – from Joe – and they were not going to get away with it. Letting the fear rise to the surface she turned it into white-hot anger and glared, first at the man across the aisle and then the one in the co-pilot's seat. They would pay….
"Ready?"
Joe's voice was so soft, Vanessa almost didn't hear him. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze in response and tensed, feeling a rush of adrenaline shoot through her. She heard a 'click' and looked down. Joe had unbuckled his seatbelt.
Clumsily he lurched forward, grabbing the seat back in front of him for leverage.
"Hey!" the man across the aisle shouted. "What the hell are you doing?!"
"Gotta go home," Joe mumbled.
"Home? What the – Are you crazy?!"
"Home!" Joe shouted, this time, half rising out of his seat.
Following his lead, Vanessa undid her seatbelt and stood next to Joe. "He's delirious!" she cried out, putting an arm around him protectively.
"HOME!" Joe yelled. "Gotta go home!"
"Hey! What's going on back there?!" The man seated next to Frank turned and glared at them angrily.
"HOME!" Joe demanded again, stumbling into the aisle and falling forward.
"Get him back in his seat!" the man shouted to his partner. "NOW!"
Vanessa felt every muscle in her body tense. Pretending to try and get Joe back in his seat, she watched out of the corner of her eye as the man across from them unsnapped his seat belt. He stood up warily, unsure and unsteady on his feet. Holding his gun loosely in one hand, he tried to step into the aisle in front of Joe. He reached for Joe, and Vanessa held her breath.
Suddenly Joe stood up, the back of his head connecting solidly with Jake Hurley's jaw. The gun flew from his hand and skittered to the floor between their feet. Immediately Vanessa dropped to her knees and reached for it. Her fingers brushed against it but before she could grab it Hurley's foot moved, making contact with the gun and sending it sliding down the aisle towards the cockpit. Rapidly crawling towards it, Vanessa snaked her arm out and was just about to grab the gun when she heard a click.
"Touch it and die."
She looked up and saw Gus Whitley walking towards her, his gun aimed at her head.
oooOOOooo
Frank had immediately recognized Joe's distraction for exactly what it was and silently thanked his younger brother. Slewing a glance to his right, Frank saw Whitley twist in his seat, glaring over his shoulder. Frank held his breath, willing the man to get up - to move! - but he just sat, staring.
"What's going on back there?" Frank asked.
Whitley cursed and unbuckled his seat belt. Standing up, he pulled out his gun, muttering, "Shoulda killed him when I had the chance."
Frank quickly turned on the autopilot and unbuckled his seat belt when he heard Whitley's voice, the words sending a chill down his spine.
"Touch it and die."
Frank bolted from the seat and turned, momentarily stunned at what he saw. Vanessa was kneeling in the aisle, her right arm outstretched just inches shy of Hurley's gun. She was looking up at Whitley, who had a gun aimed directly at her, terror in her eyes. Several feet behind her, Hurley and Joe were locked in a fight, with Hurley clearly getting the upper hand.
Rushing forward, Frank wrapped his left arm around Whitley's neck. He grabbed Whitley's right wrist and yanked hard, pointing the gun towards the ceiling. "Drop it!" Frank hissed in his ear.
Whitley simply grunted, trying to lower his arm, while Frank applied just enough leverage to negate his efforts. Frank tightened his arm around Whitley's neck, applying pressure and slowly cutting off his air supply. At the same time Frank shoved his knee forward, catching Whitley behind the knee. Whitley went down, Frank wrenching the gun from his grasp
Just then a painful scream pierced the air. Frank's heart stopped and he looked towards the back of the plane. Hurley had finally won the battle and was holding Joe in front of him like a human shield, his fingers mercilessly digging in to Joe's shoulder.
He heard a gasp and a movement caught his eye, momentarily distracting him. Whitley twisted suddenly, breaking Frank's hold as both Whitley and Vanessa dove for the gun lying in the aisle. Vanessa's fingers closed around it a split second before Whitley's, but her victory was short-lived as Whitley grabbed her wrist and yanked hard, dragging her towards him.
Lunging forward, Frank raised the gun in his hand and brought it crashing down on Whitley's head, smiling in grim satisfaction when the man fell limply to the floor. Grabbing Vanessa's arm he pulled her up and shoved her forward, the two of them racing towards Joe and Hurley.
"Don't come any closer!" Hurley yelled. When they didn't stop, he gripped Joe's shoulder even tighter and the anger Frank had tried so hard to tamp down, roared to the surface. Joe stared at him, his eyes glazed and uncomprehending.
"Let him go," Frank demanded, his gun trained on the two of them. He cursed silently as he realized he couldn't get a clear shot at Hurley without hitting Joe.
"Uh-uh." Hurley shook his head. "Put the guns on the floor and kick them to me."
"We will!" Vanessa suddenly spoke up, her voice high and shaky. Frank glanced at her, momentarily confused. She continued walking rapidly towards Joe and Hurley.
"No, no," Hurley insisted. "Stay there. Put it on the floor! Kick it to me!"
But Vanessa kept walking, waving the gun and leaving Frank to follow her lead – whatever it was.
"You can have it!" Vanessa rushed the last few steps, shoving the gun towards him. "Here!" As she got within arms reach of Hurley she shoved the gun towards his face. Frank saw a blur of movement as Hurley flinched backwards, loosening his hold on Joe. Vanessa grabbed Joe's jacket and pulled him towards her, the two of them tumbling to the floor.
Frank didn't even stop to think, acting solely on instinct. The second Joe was out of his line of sight, Frank pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed off the walls of the small, enclosed space. For a brief moment the only sound was the drone of the plane's engine, as the autopilot kept it on the same steady course. Then Frank heard Vanessa's trembling voice.
"Joe? Joe! Come on, Baby, talk to me."
Frank kept his gun trained on Hurley, who had collapsed into one of the seats, clutching his left arm. 'Answer her! Answer her!' he silently pleaded with his brother.
"M'okay."
'Thank you!' Frank let out a sigh of relief as he heard his brother's voice, slurred but cognizant. Vanessa struggled for a moment, but finally managed to get Joe into one of the seats. She stood hovering over him worriedly.
"Van, there should be a first aid kit and something that looks like a tool kit in the rear galley," Frank said, keeping his eyes on Hurley, not trusting the man even with a gunshot wound. "Go get them."
Vanessa nodded, disappearing towards the back of the plane. Keeping his gun trained on Hurley, Frank crouched down in the aisle next to Joe's seat. "How ya doing?" he murmured, wanting to look at his brother to see for himself, but not daring to take his eyes off Hurley until he was properly restrained.
"M'okay," Joe repeated tiredly. "Shoulder hurts like hell, man."
"Yeah, I bet it does," Frank reached out and patted his leg. "Just hang in there a little longer, okay?"
Joe nodded and closed his eyes, leaning heavily against the seat back.
Vanessa came rushing up the aisle. "Found 'em," she said breathlessly.
"Good. Open the tool kit and see if there's something in there we can tie them up with," Frank requested. He heard Vanessa rooting around inside the kit and then a shout.
"Rope!" she cried out.
"Tie this one up first," Frank jerked his head towards Hurley. When the thug looked up at him, Frank glared. "If you even think of trying something…" he let the threat hang in the air. Hurley glared at him, but didn't move as Vanessa bound his wrists and ankles. When she was finished Frank waited as she hastily tied a pressure bandage around Hurley's arm, smiling to himself when Hurley gasped. Vanessa obviously had no intentions of being gentle.
When she was done, Frank stood and took the coil of rope from Vanessa. "Okay, take care of Joe now," he said, and heard Vanessa give a sigh of relief.
Turning, Frank walked back to the front of the plane where Gus Whitley was just showing signs of regaining consciousness. Laying the gun on the floor out of the man's reach, he jerked Whitley's arms out from under him and roughly pulled them behind his back, winding the rope around his wrists several times. Whitley groaned and opened his eyes, peering at Frank over his shoulder.
"I knew you were a cop!" he said disgustedly.
"No, I'm not," Frank replied, tying the rope off and making it just a little tighter than necessary.
"If you're not a cop, why do you care so much about those two?" he challenged jerking his head towards Joe and Vanessa.
Frank looked up at them. Vanessa was trying, as gently as possible, to get Joe's arm out of the sleeve of his jacket to clean and bandage the gunshot wound. Seeing the pain clearly etched on Joe's face, Frank's anger boiled over. He pulled Whitley up to a sitting position and grabbed a handful of his hair. Jerking his head back painfully, he forced the man to look directly at Joe. "That guy you shot…" he began, leaning down so his mouth was less than an inch from Whitley's ear. "He's my kid brother," he finished, his voice holding a threat of vengeance.
He glanced at Whitley and smiled when the man paled and then muttered a few choice words under his breath. "Yeah…big mistake," Frank smirked, shoving his head forward.
"Frank?" Joe said, his voice not nearly as strong as Frank was used to hearing it. Quickly, Frank returned to his side, kneeling in the aisle.
"Right here, bro," he said, gently placing a hand on Joe's arm.
Joe looked at him, his eyes half closed. Now that he and Vanessa were safe, Joe was clearly showing the effects of what he'd been through. "Wanna ask you somethin'," Joe mumbled, grimacing as Vanessa finished taping a clean gauze pad in place.
"Sure, what is it?"
He motioned Frank a little closer, a spark briefly lighting his eyes. "Who's flying the plane?" he asked, managing a weak smile.
Frank stared at his brother and his throat suddenly went tight. The sparkle in Joe's eye, that lopsided grin… For a few short hours tonight, he wasn't sure he'd ever see them again and the feeling of loss momentarily overwhelmed him. Swallowing hard, he quickly recovered before Joe realized anything was wrong.
"Smart ass," he said huskily. Squeezing Joe's arm, he stood up and started towards the cockpit, side-stepping Gus Whitley who was still sprawled in the aisle where Frank had left him.
"Hey!" Whitley cried out as Frank passed by. "You can't leave me here!"
Frank stopped and turned, studying the man for a moment. He shrugged and then dragged him in between two rows of seats and left him there, wedged on the floor in the cramped space.
"What the – you said everyone had to be belted in!" Whitley hollered angrily.
"Yeah, I did, didn't I," Frank replied taking his seat and buckling up.
"Well?!" the man demanded. "Aren't you going to buckle me in?"
Smiling, Frank turned back towards Whitley. "No."
"B-but…you can't do that!!"
"Tell you what," Frank said amiably, knowing the man wouldn't suffer any ill effects during landing. "When we get back to the airport, you can report me to the F.A.A."
Frank picked up the microphone. "Bayport tower, this is six-eight-six, niner-zero-Charlie. The two suspects have been restrained. Our ETA is eighteen minutes. We'll need officers to take them into custody and two ambulances."
"Roger, six-eight-six, niner-zero-Charlie. Police and emergency personnel will be waiting on the runway."
Frank sat back and breathed a sigh of relief, his mother's favorite Christmas song planting itself contentedly in the back of his mind.
"I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me…."