Burn notice never has a flash back, so I thought I would add one of my own.
Chapter 3 Reviews please
The airplane flew low over the thick green vegetation of the rain forest below. A low puffy cloud hung at the base of a rolling hill just before the river came into view. The magnificent Amazon was below them. Its fast paced green brown water splashing over debris that crumbled and fell in the wake of its mighty path. All of the passengers aboard had to have a look as the early morning sky burned away at the mist.
Michael yelled through the headphones to the pilot of the six seats Cessna," How long?"
"You will be on the ground in 10." He answered back.
Michael sat back as his fingers gripped the arms of the seat. He had to remind Jesse about the problem he had with smaller planes. It was something he tried and failed many times to get over.
Fi noticed his discomfort and rubbed his sleeve before grabbing his hand. She knew of the incident in the plane and had been slightly to blame. Michael had gone on a buy with her years earlier. She was looking to buy some high grade C-4, her favorite from a group of French Foreign legionnaires who were selling the merchandise off-the-books and off the boat. He was tagging along and trying to get close to the group's leader. He had another project for them and this was his in.
Fi had rented a plane and a pilot named Brady that helped her with her "special" projects and the three of them took off from the south of Ireland to the coast of France and landed on a deserted road just after dusk. A team below lit the road with car headlights.
Michael watched Fi exit the plane and head for the group waiting just in a clearing not far from the road. Michael was to wait inside the plane and come when she signaled, an AK-47 loaded and ready in his hands. He didn't like the plan, but it was hers and she knew them better than he would ever.
With the wind from the water behind him, he couldn't hear what she was saying to the group of four men that stood around her. But she was not nervous, several times she looked like she was laughing, but he could not tell if it was a tense laugh.
Finally the signal. Leaving the AK, he checked his colt taped to his upper back. They would check him, but he didn't think they would be that good.
"So who is this?" the man in front said, seemingly in charge.
"He is my lover, but he makes a great body guard, don't you think?" Fi said laughing.
The men looked at her and Michael and laughed. Michael felt uncomfortable but the mood seemed relaxed enough for what it was
"So are we ready to do this deal?" The man said as a phone rang behind him.
"I'm ready, your guns are in the plane, I just need my product and we can do the exchange.
"Fiona, you have twenty guns as we discussed on the phone?"
"Of course Jacques. I am a woman of my word. Don't I always get you what you want?"
Jacques smiled, " Not always, but we can talk later. Maybe over a glass of wine and some good French food, hey."
"Jacques" A man yelled from behind and handed him the phone.
The man spoke in French and Fi followed along.
"Crap" Fi said turning to Mike. "Let's get out of here. Call me Roberto when it is a better night."
The leader leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Soon" he said in English."
Michael looked at Fi. French was another language he did not speak. "What?" Michael said following her to the plane.
"The French police are on the way we have to leave now." She said climbing into the airplane.
Michael just followed. His lead was gone in a blink of an eye. He followed her and the pilot started the engine when the first bullet ricocheted off the skin of the plane.
"They are firing on us." Michael said as he heard more pings hit the side of the plane. The pilot turned the plane and the engines revved up as the plane jolted forward. Michael was thrown back as he struggled to close the door behind him. The rattle of bullets outside increased until a bullet broke through the outer hull and bounced around harmlessly inside the cockpit.
"Step on it." Michael said with gritted teeth.
"I'm going as fast as I can with this head wind, settle down." The pilot responded.
Michael tried to right himself with the increasing gravity forces while attempting to lean back in his chair uncomfortably listening to the pinging of bullets. He struggled for the strap that was caught in the equipment that moved slightly in the initial jolt. The plane continued to race down the road as the lights from the cars vanished behind them until Michael felt the sting. A second bullet had broken through the outer hull and pinged around inside before landing in his side. He grabbed the wound as the plane lifted off the ground and began to glide into the night sky. He knew he needed to engage the seat belt. Breathing heavily he lay back again when the forward momentum of the plane felt like it froze in midair.
"Hold on. They have hit something. We are going in." The pilot screamed as his hands raced around equipment and pressed levers and switches.
Mike clung to the seat as his fingers fumbled for the seat belt. He could see the approaching water as the pilot screamed, "Brace, Brace, Brace."
The buckle wouldn't behave and Michael quickly wrapped his arms around the nylon straps before being flung violently forward in the plane. Darkness came quickly.
He woke in the water, the coldness of it and the darkness as the plane filled with it. Sound seemed muffled and it took more than a moment for the feeling to pass and for the words to make sense. Fi was pulling him, dragging at him.
He shook the feeling and went with her trying to ignore the feeling in his side. Water poured into the cabin making movement difficult at its best. The pilot was already ahead of them making his way out to the night sky and Fi pulled at Michael. Urging him to move quicker as the hull sunk deeper and deeper.
Finally the three of them stood on the portion of the plane that remained floating. In the distance, lights from the vehicles that chased them danced in the night and highlighted the shore. Wind moving across the North Atlantic blocked any sound there might have been other than the howl.
"We are going to have to swim." The pilot began pointing to the farthest shore of the cove.
Fi agreed and Michael stood dazed. "Michael are you OK?" she asked.
"I'm fine. " He answered slowly.
Fi jumped into the water first and the others followed. Michael found it difficult not to be out of breath and he worried about the blood in the water and what might be lurking just below the surface. He could see them ahead of him swimming strongly as he fell further and further back.
Fi looked back several times and each time his distance from her grew, until his arms barely swung and even in the night he could see he was struggling to keep his head above water.
"What is wrong with you?" she asked. Keep swimming."
Michael struggled, he could see the shore, but with each passing moment he knew he would not make it.
"I can't." He finally sputtered. "A bullet...in my...side. I can..n't swim...any more." He struggled to get it out swallowing water and choking with a cough.
"Brady, help me. He's been shot." Fi yelled to the pilot far ahead as she grabbed at Michael to hold him up. He couldn't hear her as he kept swimming for the far shore, far from the lights.
Fi turned Michael over in the water letting him float on his back and pulling at his shirt collar.
Looking at the night sky was the last he remembered.
Fever and pain consumed him for almost three days in a small deserted shack on the coast of France. Several times he woke to the same night mare of the plane crashing into the water and the coldness of the water rushing over his body before it choked and woke him. Fi by his side the entire time she held him close.
Police in the area made it impossible for them to move and twice search teams had nearly found them in the crawl space of the small sea captains long ago home. Brady had dared to leave the night before hoping to break through the web of security still searching the coast. For a while Fi though he might have just kept going to Ireland, but around lunch time on the third day a truck from the National Sea Shore Preservation department showed up. Brady was there to"take samples." With the presence of police thinning, he easily moved them to the truck and left the area.
It was another week before Michael could walk without wincing. It was much longer before he got on a small airplane again. This one though glided over the lush valley below and found the landing strip it was looking for. The pilot set the plane down with ease as Michael stepped from the plane onto the runway in the Amazon Basin of Bolivia. For the area, drug central.