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“Just… shut up and breathe. Because if you even think about dying on me…”
Booker nodded, aware he wouldn’t be that lucky. Wouldn’t get a quick and easy reprieve. That, for better or worse, he’d spend the next fifty years atoning for a sin he’d never be able to undo.
CHAPTER1
Present Day,West Yellowstone, Montana, BHP Aviation Division…
Booker bankedthe chopper to the left, skimming it over the trees, grinning at how the downwash fluttered the leaves. What looked to be another stunning day, with blue skies and warm temperatures.
One of the many reasons to enjoy the view before everything turned cold and white. What would be his first full winter in Montana.
His headset chirped a moment before Wyatt’s voice echoed through the comms. “You do know this is only an exercise, right?”
Booker chuckled. “What’s the matter, buddy? You going soft on me?”
“Maybe I’d just like to make it to theinfilpoint without you plowing us into the trees.”
“I’m not going to plow us into the trees. Though, you have a point. I should make this more realistic, since Hank didn’t want to have peopleactuallyfiring at us today.”
“Booker, I didn’t… shit.”
Booker’s other occupant cursed as Booker banked in the opposite direction, rushing them past the edge of a cliff before pulling back on the cyclic — climbing over an old fire tower only to drop them down the other side as he followed the curve of the rock face.
Booker keyed up his mike. “Stone? You okay back there?”
Stone Jacobs. Head of the Brotherhood Protector’s Yellowstone division and one of Booker’s bosses. The other, Hank Patterson, was still back at their new base, undoubtedly watching the exercise unfold. Though, based on the white in Stone’s knuckles, Booker bet his ass Stone wished he’d stayed behind, too.
Stone shook his head. “You definitely live up to your reputation, Hayes. Though, I’m with Bixby. You don’t have to kill us in order to prove you’ve still got a great set of hands.”
“Please, this is just for the sheer fun of it.Infilpoint coming up in twenty seconds. You gents best get ready.”
He leveled off, heading for the clearing in front of them, ignoring the way Stone’s words echoed in his head. After months of rehab, and more than a few therapy sessions, Booker was doing his best to let go of the past. To find forgiveness when the guilt still hovered out of sight. Waiting for a chance to rear its ugly head. Remind him of all the ways he’d failed that fateful night before being medically discharged a few months later.
That, despite his new job — his new life — nothing had changed. That he was still the reason good men had died.
A flash of smoke and flames — of churning water and utter darkness — wavered in the distance, but he blinked it away. He could question his worth later… after he’d completed the training exercise. Done exactly what Stone had claimed and proven to himself he was good enough.
A glance out the bubble, a shift of the controls, and Booker brought the machine into a high hover. “Area’s clear. You gents are good to go.”
Wyatt keyed up his mike. “See you back at base, buddy.”
He grinned, holding everything steady as Wyatt and Stone repelled to the ground then raced to a waiting vehicle, giving Booker the thumbs up before he peeled away, allowing Xavier to have his turn at the clearing.
Booker had to hand it to the other man. He’d taken back to flying full time without hesitation. And the guy was good. Better than good, actually. What could have been a career in the FCD if he’d wanted, though Booker suspected a part of the guy still missed his Ranger days. But, like the rest of the men who had survived the double crash, that part of their lives had come to a screeching halt.
Thankfully, Hank had tossed them all a lifeline when one of his employees had heard Booker talking about starting his own airline. Though, Hank had taken it to a whole other level. Booker had been thinking two or three choppers. Maybe a crappy little office on the side. A few of buddies to round out a crew. Hank had manufactured an impressive facility with enough machines to keep him, Xavier, and a couple more pilots busy until they were ready to retire.
But it wasn’t just Booker and Xavier who Hank had saved. Wyatt, Gunnar, Hunter… Walker Pierce and the survivors from the other chopper. Hank had offered them all positions in his new division, which was quickly shaping up to see almost as much action as Booker had seen in the military. Just yesterday, he’d flown shotgun with Wyatt and Hunter on a protection detail, and they’d been fired at more than once.
Exactly what he’d needed to ease any lingering doubts. That, with a bit of time and a whole lot of luck, he might just make it fully to the other side of the accident still intact. Still sane.
Mostly sane, if he didn’t count his unhealthy obsession over a particular DEA agent. The one whostillhadn’t called him back. Who he couldn’t get out of his mind and secretly feared might be in trouble but had absolutely no way of unearthing if or where that trouble would be. If he should be riding to the rescue or taking the giant ass hint that she hadn’t meant what she’d said that night. That the constant itching between his shoulder blades had nothing to do with her life being in jeopardy and everything to do with his life going sideways.
Not that he’d mention any of his concerns to his crew or his bosses, especially Hank Patterson. Ex-Navy SEAL, and the guy standing beside the helipad as Booker made his approach — coming in hot before flaring back, mindful to keep the downwash to a minimum as he landed the chopper, then shut her down, grinning when he finally climbed out. He had to hand it to Hank, the man had great instincts. Had chosen the kind of equipment Booker would have picked if asked.
Hank shook his head as Booker made his way over, watching the vehicles head toward them in the distance. “And here I thought civilian life would take some of that dangerous streak out of you.”
Booker chuckled. “Sorry, but that’s just part of my DNA. Besides, if yesterday is any indication of how the next decade is going to pan out, I’ll need all of that craziness and then some.”
