Page 72 of Mile High Heist

Already, we were being sucked toward the opening. I rolled onto my stomach and jammed Cockzilla between the metal grating that recently held the large containers in place. Those containers were freeballing it now, shooting like giant death marbles toward the open cargo bay doors.

Then my mind switched gears, reminding me of the greater risk.

Losing Madoc and Olivia.

I craned my neck up, wincing at the ferocious wind as it tore at my face. Through the haze, I saw Madoc. My chest seized.

He was plastered to Olivia, using his body to pin her to the floor. Both his hands were gripping the metal grating.

The wind was howling. The temperature was dropping. Ice webbed across the metallic floor toward me. The moment it reached my hands, my grip began to slip.

I scrambled, trying to keep myself from being sucked out of the plane at thirty-five thousand feet. Madoc’s head was turned toward me. He was shouting something, but I’d all but gone deaf.

The roaring was absolute.

Was this how I fucking died? Bleeding, bruised, and gripping a dildo? My old man would be rolling over in his grave. He’d kick my ass when we reunited in Hell.

Madoc was still shouting. What was he saying? I squinted. Every breath was ice rattling through my chest.

E-something? Over? Override?

Then it clicked.

The emergency override switch. Of course.

Only problem? It was on the other side of the cargo hold, near the cabin entrance.

Because nothing was ever fucking simple.

I twisted around on my stomach and began the agonizing climb toward it. I said goodbye to Cockzilla, who was sucked out like a piece of lint into the night sky.

I thrust my arm up and caught the next grating. I hefted myself a few good feet, then reached for the next one and the next one. I got some good momentum. My lungs and ribs were screaming. There was a deep, unnerving pulse behind my eyes, like my brain was about to explode.

Don’t think about that.

When the grating ran out, I grabbed onto the flailing straps that had long since lost their luggage. Never had I been so thankful for my impressive upper body strength. Had I known all those long nights working out, usually after a frustrating call with Preacher, would result in this, I would’ve doubled my reps. Tripled them, even.

A loud rattle made me snap my neck up. One of the death containers was still locked in place, but barely. It was rattling in its cage like I was a magnet, pulling it toward me. Then one of its restraints snapped, and it shifted precariously. Fuck.

Another great cosmic joke. Of course, everything had to go from bad to worse.

I scrambled upwards, using whatever handholds I could to close the distance. Sparks exploded behind my eyes. The cold leeched into my bones, causing each movement to feel like a grind.

I didn’t hear the final restraint snap. But I felt the vibrations through the floor and counted in my head.

Three…

Two…

One…

I rolled to the side, smashing hard into the wall. The container shot past me like a giant cannon ball. A split second later, a second blur followed, and I realized too late what it was.

A person.

The other Viper. Tiny.

I couldn’t tell if he was alive or not when he was sucked out of the plane. Couldn’t say I cared either way.