18
It took Joe twenty minutes to reach the airport, five of which he spent on a brief diversion to retrieve a couple of items from his house, which fortunately was on the way. He also changed from the Hercules Security SUV into his own private vehicle, because taking an armored car loaded with weaponry onto the airport property was a sure way to get stopped and questioned, even with his company license and identification. Besides, for what he planned, he didn’t need a lot of firepower. He had his concealed carry weapons and two extra magazines. If he ended up using that much ammo to deal with Jalal Emani, he was probably a dead man anyway.
His credentials got him into the general aviation section of the airport, where private planes were loaded and serviced. He’d been through the area many times, since he had a pilot’s license and was even qualified on the two helicopters Herc had bought for the company.
At the gate to the private aviation hangars, Joe showed the guard the picture of his quarry. “Have you seen this guy? He’s meeting with my clients and isn’t answering his phone.”
The guard squinted at the picture and then nodded. “Yeah, he came through about fifteen minutes ago. Headed for the G.A. terminal.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Joe set off toward the terminal. He parked the SUV and then reached for the laptop he’d picked up during his brief stop at home. Within sixty seconds he was looking at the flight plans filed by the pilots of the small private aircraft based out of the terminal. If Jalal Emani was making an escape, there would have to be a flight plan filed, and it would likely have been done in the last fifteen minutes.
“Where are you, you son of a bitch?” he muttered as he scrolled through the flight lists. For a small airport, RDU was generally quite busy due to the presence of large corporations like SAS and the other players in the Research Triangle area. There were several listings, but then a new one popped up in the queue for an Eclipse 550 private jet, bound for Ottawa. “Gotcha!”
It was only a few hundred meters to the hangar listed in the queue, and Joe left the SUV, hurrying toward it on foot. He had to be cautious, since he wasn’t sure if Jalal had any other allies still in play. He doubted it, but he was too close to his goal to risk getting careless now.
As he approached the hangar, he kept close to the wall to avoid being spotted. When he reached the big doorway of the hangar, he peered around the corner, immediately spotting the Eclipse. The door of the plane was open, and he could see movement inside. He slipped into the hangar, drawing one of his guns and circling around so he could approach the plane out of sight of the door. Since he wasn’t sure how many adversaries he faced, he needed to get a closer look before rushing on board.
Through the front windshield he could see only one person, and the guy definitely looked like Emani. He was wearing a headset and holding a clipboard, probably preflighting the plane as quickly as he could. But if Emani was the pilot, that was a good sign he was alone. Joe took a deep breath and made his move.
Running fast and silent, he crossed the hangar floor out of Emani’s sightline and then ducked under the wing. Moving more slowly, he mounted the steps into the plane, keeping as silent as possible. Emani was muttering under his breath in Urdu, obviously annoyed at the list of checks to be performed before takeoff, but apparently not yet desperate enough to avoid the safety protocols. That meant he wasn’t expecting Joe’s presence, and that gave Joe the element of surprise.
He moved up behind the pilot’s seat and then pressed the barrel of his gun to the back of Emani’s head. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere, Jalal,” he said softly in Urdu. “So put up your hands and get out of the seat, nice and slow, so we can have a talk.”
Emani froze in place, obviously recognizing the feeling of a gun against his skull. He lifted his hands and slowly rose from the seat. Joe backed up, and Emani turned, his eyes widening as he caught sight of Joe.
“You must be the one we were looking for. How nice of you to turn yourself in to me so I can take you back to Pakistan.”
It was all bravado, Joe knew, but the guy had balls. “I might be going to Pakistan, but you aren’t,” Joe replied.
“What, are you going to take me to jail?” Emani asked mockingly. “Tie me up and haul me in to face justice? You Americans are so weak on your own soil.”
“Are we?” Joe smiled nastily and then lowered the barrel of his gun slightly. “No, I’m not taking you in to face justice, I’m going to dispense it myself.” With that he squeezed the trigger, shooting Emani in the leg.
The man cried out, his leg buckling, sending him toppling to the floor. The shot had made little sound because of Joe’s suppressor, so he wasn’t worried about attracting too much attention.
“That’s for what you did to Finn’s leg,” he continued. “Now, we can have a conversation about your employer. I’m told you are after me because I killed your head honcho’s son. I want the name, and I want it now. Or so help me, my next shot will be between your eyes.”
“Go to hell!” Emani was holding his thigh, trying to staunch the bleeding. “I won’t tell you!”
“I see you need some more persuasion.” Joe stepped closer. “Let’s see if you can take it as well as you dish it out.” Joe drew back his foot and then kicked Emani in the ribs as hard as he could. He actually felt the snap as ribs broke. “How about now? Want to tell me?”
Emani’s face was twisted in pain. Joe felt nothing—no satisfaction, no hatred,nothing at all. He needed information, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to get it.
“No!” Emani gasped, glaring at Joe in defiance.
Joe shrugged and then moved again, lifting his foot. He pressed it against the ribs he’d just broken. Emani squirmed, cursing at Joe in Urdu, but Joe didn’t relent. He pressed harder, knowing that he was probably causing internal damage, but not much caring. “How about now?”
Apparently Emani’s ability to handle pain wasn’t as great as his ability to inflict it. “Stop! Stop! I’ll tell you!”
Joe eased his foot back, but kept his gun pointed at Emani’s head. “I’m listening.”
“Ismail Abbasi is my employer. You killed his son Farrokh, and he wants you dead in return.” Recovering a bit of his bravado, Emani sneered. “He won’t stop, you know. I may have failed, but he will send others, again and again, making your life the hell you made his.”
“Not if I put an end to it.” Joe didn’t feel victorious, just a slight sense of satisfaction that he now had a name. “And speaking of endings, I think it’s time to put some closure on this. And make sure that you never hurt anyone I love ever again.”
With that, he began to squeeze the trigger, fully intending to kill Emani and make sure Finn was safe.
“Joe! Stop!” A familiar voice made him pause, and he glanced back to see Drew rushing up from behind.
