Outside, it was anyone’s guess.
Chapter Eight
The United States
Heading West
A Very Long Day Already
Thankfully, they’d gotten to the airstrip and into the air without any issues. Not far away from where she was sitting on the luxury plane, there was a body bag with Jet in it, parked on the bench like that wasn’t the craziest thing ever.
For her, it wasn’t.
It was the only option as far as she was concerned.
When they wanted to stuff him in the belly of the plane, she’d nearly had a mental breakdown. The mere idea that a man who had served the country, and her family was relegated to cargo…
That wasn’t happening.
PASS.
He was family, and she would rather him be in the jet taking up the bench seating and have them lower the temperature than put him under them like he was nothing.
So, after tears, Raphael and Uriel carried him onboard, and they placed him not far away. It was a good thing no one was freaked out by dead bodies.
Or this would have been incredibly awkward and weird.
If only Jet was the only dead person on the flight West—because he wasn’t.
Not.
Even.
Close.
Not far away were two big plastic tote containers, where they’d packed the bones from the church. Each one was ladendown with the remains, as they transported them back toDamascus,and the two waiting anthropologists.
Whomever they were, they were now flying first class. Because it did weird some of the security guys out, Gideon had covered them with a blanket so they weren’t staring out at them through the side of the container.
It was creepy to feel like you were being watched at ten thousand feet.
This just proved her life was absolute jackassery on a good day, and she was good with that. For the two sets of remains, there were worst things to be transported in than giant tubs like you put your Christmas decorations in.
She thought so, anyway.
Everyone was silent as they flew back to rendezvous with the rest of the family, as she waited to find out where the next set of remains were dropped.
That meant Elizabeth was working.
Then again, when wasn’t she? That was the question most of the time.
After making some calls and arranging some favors in order to get the military to help her set up Von Donore, she had her own work to do.
Across from her on the jet, there was a whiteboard with pictures of the first three victims.
A nun.
And two hookers.
