Page 7 of Rescued

The girl said stubbornly, “She wanted to come. She’s the one who set this up. We have to go back.”

For fuck’s sake. “I am not going back. I’m a damn ferry pilot, and I’m ferrying you. Once I deliver you to where you’re going, you can do whatever the fuck you want. But like I said, you’re damn lucky to have a chance to get out. If I were you, I’d take it and walk away while you can.”

“But—”

Switch turned off her headset channel.

She turned it back on.

Switch yanked the wire out of her headset and stared straight ahead. He saw her reach out to joggle his arm again, and he gave her his most terrifying wolf glare.

She flinched back in the seat, then strapped herself in and didn’t say anything more.

It took them just under an hour to get to Pennsylvania. The moon wasn’t up yet; once they left the city Switch had been running with night vision goggles and the minimum of lights.

When they got near the coordinates he’d been given, he switched to the designated channel and gave the password.

Flares lit up on the ground, in a circle, and he pushed up his goggles. The landing area was a large flat field, surrounded by trees on three sides. He could see the dark humps of several vehicles parked nearby. At least four.

That gave him pause. Four vehicles, to pick up one girl? Or maybe two, if they hadn’t gotten the memo about her friend?

And he hadn’t heard the return password yet. He said, “Freebird approaching. Abraham Lincoln. Repeat, Abraham Lincoln.”

A man’s voice said, “Ulysses—um, Ulysses Grant.”

No ‘S’. Was that important?

Switch said, “Visual signal requested.”

There was another pause. He circled.

The girl touched him hesitantly on the arm, very lightly. He could read her lips when he glanced over. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. Maybe nothing.

A second later, a flashlight beamed the short-long-short, short-long-short signal.

Switch came in for the landing. An ordinary-looking woman was standing next to one of the vehicles, an SUV. The door was open and the light from inside fell on her. She looked like someone’s mom—plump and friendly.

The helo touched down. His passenger unstrapped herself and wrapped one arm around her bag, then opened the door.

She slid awkwardly out of the helicopter onto the ground.

Switch felt a prickle go up his spine. His little voice said, Danger.

He grabbed the strap of the girl’s bag and dragged her back, just as a bullet whined past. Someone yelled, “Don’t kill her, you fool!”

Car doors opened and dark forms jumped out of the vehicles.

Switched yelled, “Shut the door!”

“What’s going on?”

Stupidest question ever. “They’re fucking shooting at us, is what’s going on!”

She slammed the door and ducked down. Switch got the rotors going again, making the dark forms rushing them hesitate. Bullets thunked into the side of the helo, which made him damn glad he’d stolen a military-grade ride.

He lifted off and circled around once, pulling a spare grenade out from under his seat. As he passed over the knot of enemies shooting at them, he pulled the pin with his teeth and dropped it out the window.