Ford
It’s for the best.
I had to leave her. If I stay, I’m more of a risk to her than the protection I was hired to be by her brother.
Oliver will be able to protect Adelaide just as well as I can. He won’t have an asshole like Demetri gunning at him to make his life miserable, and he won’t be in love with her either to distract him from the job at hand.
I didn’t realize how hard it would be to leave her, though.
But it had to be done.
The airstrip comes into view, and the young boy who is driving pulls up to the gate.
“I’ll get out here,” I tell him.
I jump out of the truck and pull my bag out of the back.
Before heading to the plane, I shake the boy’s hand and nod in thanks.
The Bush Pilot is waiting for me by the plane.
“Leaving so soon, sir?” he asks me. “You and your lady seemed pretty close, and I didn’t think you would be leaving her side any time soon.”
I stare at him blankly as he speaks.
“It’s necessary,” is the only explanation I give him.
He nods at me.
We climb into the plane with no further conversation.
I’m sure the man can tell I’m in a piss poor mood.
I can feel the dark storm clouds floating above my head like I’m in a damn cartoon.
This shit is ridiculous.
I focus on the pilot. He starts flipping switches, and the plane comes alive with a loud growl. The propeller on the nose of the plane kicks up dirt as it starts up.
The voices of air control buzz through the headset resting on my head. The pilot communicates with the other man on the end. Soon, we are cleared to take off.
“Weather calls for some weather disturbance that make the ride a little bumpy, sir,” the pilot tells me.
I grunt.
Don’t fucking care as long as we get out of here.
Up in the air, I look out the window and silently say goodbye to the African Bush. It really is a beautiful place. I’ve enjoyed and am going to miss it.
Soon, we experience the rough weather the pilot warned me about. The plane is tossed up and down in violent turbulence.
Rain slaps against the metal frame and glass windows. It’s impossible to see anything outside the aircraft, and the pilot is using the tools at this moment with the aid of the navigation tools the plane is equipped with.
“We have to land, sir!” the pilot suddenly yells. “It’s not safe to keep traveling until the rain stops.”
He lands the plane at the nearest town to our current location.
I leave the pilot to stay with the craft and head to the local watering hole. If I’m going to be stuck here for a while, I might as well get a drink.
I’m no longer on protection duty, anyway. Maybe I’ll even get a little drunk.
Hopefully, it’ll take my mind off of Adelaide.
I sit down at a barstool and request the local choice of drink.
The place is filled with boisterous conversations and drunken arguments. One pair of men is arguing so violently that there’s no doubt there will be a bar fight to entertain the patrons soon.
I shake my head. Fucking idiots.
The bartender hands me my drink as I turn my attention back to the bar in front of me.
I take the first sip. The alcohol burns down my throat. A warmth settles in my stomach.
All the conversation around me remains to be a constant buzz, like a radio static searching for a clear signal. That is, until one word breaks through the buzz as if the radio has finally found a clear station.
“…heiress.”
I find the man who spoke the word and tune in to his conversation.
“I’m getting out of this shithole boys. That’s the truth. My pockets will be filled to the brim once I get my cut of a soon-to-be big score. Some heiress princess who’s had a spoon in her mouth all her damn life is about to get a rude slap of reality when she becomes a pawn to get money from mommy and daddy. No doubt they’ll be desperate to save their daughter.” The man gives a sinister laugh.
With each word, my anger rises, and it feeds the violent monster inside me that has stayed dormant since I left the CIA.
In a blink of an eye, I fly towards the man, grab him by the back of his neck, and slam his face into the bar top.
He releases a scream.
What a damn pussy.
I hold him bent over, with his face crushed to the bar.
Bringing my mouth close to his ear, I growl.
He goes still as a statue.
“You’re going to tell me about this fucking score with a heiress princess you’re bragging about like a dumbass. I suggest you don’t try to fight me to get free or lie to me. If you do, you’re going to feel a whole level of pain you didn’t realize you could experience. Understand?”
Of course, the man decides he doesn’t understand. The next moment, he’s trying with all his might to gain the upper hand in breaking free from the hold I have him in.
Like I said: dumbass.
I take his left arm, twisting it behind his back to utilize as leverage, while I fist his hair with my other hand and lift his head up to slam back into the bar.
This time, I make sure his nose hits the surface square on, breaking it in the process. Blood sprays all over his face and the bar.
The patrons stare at us, but only those in close proximity and then only with mild interest. Some look as if they want to step in to help their friend, but my show of brutality has made them think twice.
“Are you done?” I ask the man.
“Fuck you!”
“Wrong answer, fucker.”
I lift the man up, slam him on the floor, press one knee into his chest, just enough to make it uncomfortable to breathe. And then I press one gun under his chin, with the other pointed at the man to the right who started to move towards us.
“I really wouldn’t try to help your friend at the moment. I’m pissed as hell, and my trigger finger is itching to put a bullet in anyone stupid enough to interfere.”
I stare at him, waiting for an acknowledgment that he’s going to take the smart road and do as I say.
He nods.
I turn back to the asshole pinned under me, still making sure I keep his friend in my line of sight out the corner of my eye.
“Now,” I tell the asshole. “Tell me everything about this plan starting from how she was tracked down.”
He doesn’t speak until I whack him in the nose with the butt of my gun before placing it back under his chin.
Once he stops screaming like a little bitch, I tell him, “Start talking. Now!”
“The boss suspected she was some important rich girl he could swindle money from somehow,” he spits out. “So he had the bitch attacked by a mugger. The mugger was all an act to slip a tracker on her clothing.”
“The boss has tracked her to some village where he plans to send a big group of mercenaries and poachers to kidnap her,” he continues. “Then, he’s going to ransom her to her family.”
It takes everything for me not to pull the trigger of the gun I have pressed under his chin.
The asshole goes pale when he feels the gun twitch against his sweating skin.
“What’s the girl’s name?” I manage to say.
I’m so fucking livid right now. I’m ninety-nine percent sure I know who he’s talking about, but I have to make absolute sure.
“Johansen. Adelaide Johansen.”
My anger breaks my control. I roar and clock the asshole in the head hard enough to knock him out and leave a nasty gash in his head.
I stand up and face his group of friends. My face must be a sight of pure anger at the moment, because they all step back in fear so fast, a few trip over their feet and fall to the floor.
None of them look like they are going to try me in a fight.
Good.
I stomp out of the water hole.
I need to get back to Adelaide, I decide. Hopefully I’m not too late.
I look around for any mode of transportation. I don’t even fucking care if I have to steal something.
A motorbike is sitting ten feet down the road from where I stand. That will do.
A perk of working for a government agency is that you learn how to hot-wire anything.
The motorbike groans to life. It’s not in the best shape, but it’ll get me to where I need to go, and that’s all that matters.
Soon, I’m racing down the road headed back to the village and the woman I was running away from an hour ago.
I’m coming for you, Adelaide. If those bastards have touched a hair on your head, I swear to God they will pay.
I rev the motorbike to go faster. Wind and water whips me in the face as I move closer and closer to the woman I love and am determined to protect. No matter what.