Rory jerked his attention back to the flight deck. Lincoln had a point. Some part of Rory had let loose the chains on his better judgment. Right now, he was just a guy desperately trying to keep a plane in the air.
“You should have listened to me.” The relief of speaking his mind was intoxicating. “Whoop!” he hooted, as if they were on a roller coaster instead of flying through a thunderstorm. “Damn, that felt good. I told you so. I told you so.”
“Shut up or you’re fired.” Lincoln gripped the armrests of the copilot’s seat.
Rory’s exhilaration gave way to hilarity, and he laughed out loud. What kind of idiot fired his pilot in midair? In a storm? Maybe billionaires weren’t as smart as they thought they were. “Is that supposed to scare me? Fine, I quit.”
He pulled his hands from the controls and the plane veered left.
“You’re not fired! You’re not fired! Fix it!” screamed Lincoln.
Rory pulled all his attention to the task of righting the plane. These currents were insane. The force of the unstable air was tossing the SyberJet up, then down, then jerking it to the side. It felt as if a temperamental giant toddler held them in its fist. Kind of what it felt like to work at the whim of a billionaire, come to think of it.
Pretty childish move, letting go of the controls even for that second, he scolded himself. Never do that again. He just hoped he lived to regret it.
The power flicked off as the plane shuddered from nose to tail. Had they been struck by lightning? He hadn’t seen a flash, but something must have happened. The power quickly flickered on again as the backup system activated. Rory squinted at the radar screen, which was jolting up and down just as much as the rest of the plane. Was that a pocket of calm air up ahead? It seemed so. He steered toward it, every muscle in his arms and shoulders tensed with the effort of controlling the craft.
When they reached the little oasis, the relief made him tremble. The clamor of the rain finally eased, and they didn’t have to yell over the noise.
“Are we through it?” Lincoln asked. “Are we close to the airport? Can you see it?”
“No,” Rory said curtly. “Not close.” Not close enough, anyway. Hawaii was still miles away. This hellride would have to go on a little longer. “This is just a little break. It’s about to get even worse.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, that about says it. But hey, we made it through the first round. That’s something.”
“Are you sure?” Lincoln pointed at the radar, which showed intense magenta up ahead. “That looks bad.”
It was bad. “I can’t sugarcoat it, sir.”
Lincoln was quiet for a moment as he absorbed their situation.
“Listen. Rory.”
Rory shot him a quick look of amazement. Had Lincoln Kerr ever addressed him by name before? Like a person? He usually just called him “Pilot,” or sometimes “Pilot Rory.”
“If we crash, take care of my med kit.”
“I’m sorry, your what?” He couldn’t possibly have heard that correctly. Why would Lincoln care so much about his medical kit? It was packed with supplements for his longevity regime, which wouldn’t do much for him if he was dead.
“My med kit,” Lincoln said impatiently. “It’s back in the cabin. I’m sure you’ve seen it. Do you understand?”
“Definitely not. You do realize it won’t help you if you’re dead.” He felt silly even pointing that out.
“I’m not going to die,” Lincoln growled. “I won’t allow it.”
“Not sure it works that way, but okay.” Rory would have shrugged if his shoulders weren’t so tense. He rolled his neck in a doomed effort to relax.
“No one else can get their hands on my med kit. Promise me.”
Rory checked again to make sure he was serious, and this wasn’t some morbid prank. “I hate to be morose, but if we crash, we’re going to have bigger problems than your med kit. What’s in it, diamonds?” Or, more likely given Lincoln’s obsessions… “The secret to eternal youth?”
The plane shuddered as they approached the end of their little air pocket.
“No,” he said curtly, his gaze riveted to the writhing black storm clouds racing toward them. “Promise me.”
“What if we crash and I die?” Rory asked, since that seemed like a very possible outcome.
