Page 33 of Nothing to Fear

One hundred percent rpm. Finally.

He pulled up on the collective to lift off. The wheels cleared, and he pushed the cyclic stick between his thighs, cruising out of the hangar. He steered the chopper up, climbing altitude.

Five figures sprinted from the main building below. Sharp pings echoed from the bullets ricocheting off the helicopter. The tail of the helo swung violently from side to side.

Lucky a bullet didn’t hit the fuel tank or a rotor.

He tightened his grip on the control handles to steady the copter and pitched to clear the compound. Good to know how far his friends might go, but getting shot down by one of his own wasn’t part of his half-baked plan.

Using the tail rotor pedals, Gideon rolled the helicopter in a hard left over the freeway.

“They can disable the chopper while we’re in the air,” Willow said.

Stunned, he threw her a wary glance. “I had no idea that could be done.”

“Most don’t. You have to hack into the AVX system and input override control codes.”

“Who in the Gray Box can do that?”

“Sanborn knows it can be done. Daniel Cutter is capable of executing it.”

“Damn it to hell.” Falling from the sky in a disabled helo and crashing into the freeway wasn’t on his top ten list of ways to go.

The Tysons Corner Center mall had a parking garage and wasn’t far. They could land on the uncovered top level. This time of day, it’d be vacant.

On the way, he shared everything he knew. Details of the offshore account, timing of when it was opened, the not-so-coincidental correlation to his late wife’s accident, Willow’s failed polygraph, the heat Sanborn was under. The possibility of a whitewash.

When he’d finished taking a wrecking ball to her life, she looked dazed, face ashen, arms clenched around herself. He set the chopper down on the top level of the multistory garage. It was empty as he’d expected. He unbuckled her harness to help her hurry along, but she stared straight ahead, unblinking.

If she went into shock, they were screwed.

“Willow.” He caressed her cheek, aching to erase the sudden insanity engulfing her life.

An unnamed longing beat at his chest—the primal need for something deeper than physical pleasure with this woman, something greater than the instinct to protect her. The inclination was undeniably dangerous.

“Willow,” he said again, more firmly.

She blinked, snapping out of her trance. Her hazel eyes found him.

“You with me?”

Grasping her pearls like a lifeline, she nodded.

“We’ve got to move.” He wished there was time to comfort her, but it wouldn’t take the Gray Box long to track them.

They hopped out, meeting in front of the helicopter. While scoping out the location of security cameras, he offered his hand. Her delicate fingers wrapped around his, and his body tightened at the shocking warmth, the innocent way she blindly trusted him.

He couldn’t fail her.

They hustled down four flights of stairs. The mall’s doors opened before the stores at seven thirty for walkers. College kids flocked to the Starbucks with its early hours and free Wi-Fi, and they tended to drive cheap beaters prime for stealing.

He prowled for a car easy to hotwire.

Isolated at the end of a row, an old Ford looked good. They made a beeline for it. Empty coffee cups and brown fast-food napkins littered the back seat. The front passenger window was cracked low enough for a small hand to get through.

“Stick your arm through the window and pull up the little black knob.”

“We’re stealing someone’s car?”