Forged in Fire by Trish McCallan Read Free Book Online Page B

his head and slowly shook it. “PacAtlantic wouldn’t be in control. The FBI and DHS would step in.” He paused a beat. “Skyjacking’s considered an act of terrorism. And the United States government does not negotiate with terrorists. Since coach passengers were apparently no use to them, they could have been eliminating any potential threats.” Deep in thought, he stared at the whitewashed door. “What did they do with the first-class passengers?”
    “It sounded like they were being held for ransom.”
    “Depending on who’s flying first class, that would net some pretty hefty profits,” Zane acknowledged, but the observation wasn’t directed at Beth. Absently he reached out to settle his palm over the nape of her neck, a silent comfort, as well as a leash. “Where did these bastards land the plane?”
    Beth thought back, trying to remember the name of the tiny country they’d diverted the airliner to, trying to ignore the way his hand warmed her skin. The contact shouldn’t have felt so good. She barely knew the man. Fifteen minutes in his company should not have conditioned her to his touch. She could not possibly have missed the contact during those chilly minutes of disbelief and suspicion.
    “They called it Puerto Jardin. They blew the cockpit doors and killed the pilots. One of the hijackers took over flying.”
    “Puerto Jardin,” Zane repeated beneath his breath. “Son of a bitch. That would explain why they targeted this flight. Seattle to Hawaii would be one of the few domestic flights that would net them wealthy passengers, expensive cargo and enough fuel to escape to South America.” He fell silent, frowning, his eyebrows a heavy black line above his hooded gaze. A moment later he glanced at Simcosky. “The M.O. she’s describing is identical to that hijacking down in Buenos Aries last summer. They slaughtered everyone in coach, but ransomed the first-class passengers. Argentina kept a lid on it.”
    Did this mean they were beginning to believe her?
    Rawlings rubbed his palm over his flat stomach. That merciless coldness still lurked in his brilliant blue eyes, but the chill wasn’t directed at her any longer. “Zane’s right—the M.O.’s identical. And the plane was diverted to the interior of Puerto Jardin. This has to be the same crew.”
    “Or,” Simcosky said, his voice dry. He crossed his arms over his chest and settled into a subtly challenging stance. “She could be blowing smoke up our asses. She dreamed the entire hijacking from start to finish? Including the landing? Dreams don’t last that long. Nor are they so cohesive. Hell, even if she did have this dream, it’s more likely it was triggered by fear of flying.”
    “I didn’t dream the whole thing at once,” Beth interjected. “I kept waking up. But every time I fell back asleep it would pick up where it had left off. As for fear of flying….” She held Simcosky’s cold gaze. “I work for PAL—PacAtlantic,” she explained when Zane frowned. “We get to fly free. I’ve been all over the world, so believe me, boarding a plane doesn’t scare me. Besides, I wasn’t planning on taking this flight.”
    Zane froze, every muscle in his body rigid. His head turned, and he scanned her face. “You don’t have a ticket for our flight?”
    “I’m on standby. Listing myself was the only way I could pick up a boarding pass.”
    “When did you register?” Zane’s asked, his voice tense, his face tight, as though he already suspected the answer and didn’t like it. Not one bit.
    “I don’t know—maybe an hour ago.” She watched his jaw clench.
    “Fuck.” He dropped his hand from her neck and stalked a tight circuit around the cramped room. His two friends watched in silence.
    “What’s wrong?” When he simply shook his head, she felt compelled to explain. “Signing up for standby was the only way I could get through the security gate and over to the departure terminal. It was the only way I could take