Page 78 of Mountain Trial

“Stop right now. You have two minutes to make it happen, or I’ll make sure she doesn’t fly anywhere ever again.”

“Give me five minutes, Bull. I’ll see what I can do.”

“I said two! And don’t bother trying to get a clean shot. I’m not about to stand up and make it easy for you.”

“Nobody will shoot you, Bull, you have my word.”

Bull scoffed. “Call me back when you’re ready to remove the cable.”

Bull returned the radio to Kat.

“Now we wait to see how much your boss values your life,” he said, crouching in the space between the cockpit and the back area, his gun held firmly in his hand.

Luc cursed his useless body. The metal handcuffs bit into his wrists―however much he wanted things to be different, he had to give in to reality that he wasn’t going anywhere until somebody released him from the seat.

Luc had known true fear. When he was first paralyzed, he used to wake up in the middle of the night, screaming in agony, reliving the accident all over again. Then, as the pain faded, he’d remember that he would never walk again. But all that paled when compared to his fear that Bull would do as Kat had suggested―push him off onto the tarmac before flying off. He knew that, if that happened, he’d never see Kat again.

Luc inhaled and inhaled slowly, keeping his face a neutral mask to reveal none of the panic he was feeling inside.

An idea suddenly came to him.

It doesn’t have to be a great idea.

It just has to buy us time.

“Help me, please, my arm―” he moaned. “Please, I need help!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bull replied testily.

“It hurts. I think I’m having a heart attack. Please help―”

“Luc!” Kat cried out, anguished.

“You stay right where you are. Both hands on the throttle, where I can see them. And you,” Bull said, crawling towards him, “shut up or I’ll tape your mouth shut.”

Bull kneeled beside Luc, his lips curled up in a sneer. Luc pretended to close his eyes and moaned loudly.

“I said shut up!”

Closer.

Just a bit closer.

I’m just going to get one shot.

Luc opened his eyes to see Bull’s forehead inches away from his own. The man’s breath smelled rank―like something had died inside his mouth.

Right where I need you.

He pulled his own head back as far as he could against the leather headrest, dropped his chin, then slammed his head forward as fast and hard as he could. He aimed for the bridge of Bull’s nose, an area that he knew from experience had lower tolerance to injury than the forehead―not that he’d ever tried to hit a human being this way before.

The contact, when it came, was blinding in its intensity. Luc’s eyes watered, but through his tears he saw blood spray from Bull’s nose, splattering everywhere―on his dark coat, on the floor of the helicopter. Bull roared and moved his hands up to cup his ruined nose.

What he did not do, was go down.

Fuck.

Bull staggered, looking disoriented. It was a pleasant surprise for Luc when after hesitating for an instant, Bull stumbled forward, towards Luc, rather than away from him.