“You’re welcome,” I answer. Her gaze falls onto Blue. “You can pet him if you want,” I say. “He’s not actually dangerous unless you’re attacking someone.” I smile, trying to make that into a joke but she doesn’t get it. Or at least doesn’t find it amusing. When her hand touches the top of Blue’s head her lips turn up into a smile, though, genuine and kind. She’ll be fine.
Air Marshal Petey gets off the flight with Crutch Man and Gary first while we all wait. He’s wisely decided to leave the knife in Gary’s side to medics on the ground. I pull out my phone and call Robert Maxim.
“Sydney,” he says, his voice dark and sleepy. What time is it in Paris? Is he even in Paris still?
“I’ve been involved in an incident,” I say, keeping my voice low.
His laugh is intimate and loving. “Of course you have. Where?”
“Well, we were over the Pacific at the time but we’re in Fiji now.”
“You managed to get into a fight on a plane,” he sighs. “Why didn’t you take the jet?”
“I thought it was too far to fly…”
“Baby—”
I cut him off. “No, we will not be using that term of endearment.”
He laughs that same intimate teasing laugh again and I shift in my seat. I need to move. “Okay, sweetheart.” There is humor in his voice and I huff a laugh. There is nothing sweet about me or my heart. “Let me make some calls. Don’t speak to anyone until our attorney arrives.”
“What’s our attorney’s name?” I ask.
“I’ll text you when I find out who’s headed your way. What happened?”
“West Papua freedom fighters tried to take over the plane—not sure what their plan was, but it ended up with them injured.”
“West Papua freedom fighters?” Robert echoes back. “How in the…” The question fades away into a low laugh. “I’ve never met anyone who attracts trouble the way you do.”
“You sound like Petra.”
“We do share a viewpoint.”
“Yeah,” I mumble. “I bet.” My gaze falls out the window onto the darkened runway, the sky just starting to color at the edges.
“I’ll text you soon,” Robert says. “And Sydney, everything will be fine. I’ve got you.” That sentence manages to be reassuring and terrifying in the same breath.
Air Marshal Petey comes back, wearing the same menacing expression as the eagle on his green sweatshirt. “Come with me,” he says.
“Am I under arrest?” I ask, trying to sound like a sweetheart. An innocent one at that.
“No, but we need to talk.”
“I’ll wait for my attorney, thanks. In the meantime, Blue and I really need to go to the bathroom. It’s been over eleven hours for him…so, it’s kind of an emergency.”
His mouth opens then closes and it’s cute. I can’t help the smile broadening my mouth. “Who are you?” he finally asks.
I hold out my hand. “Tara,” I say, not including the last name of my alias. “I overheard you telling the flight attendant your name is Peter. But I’m calling you Air Marshal Petey.” His cheeks go just a tinge pink and my grin grows even wider. Petey’s gaze falls to my outstretched hand. “I won’t break your wrist, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” I say.
He frowns, clearly flummoxed about what to do with me. Join the club, bub. Blue sighs as if he’s seen this look before. Petey finally takes my hand and shakes. “You did well, thank you for your help.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” I say with a smile. “Now about that restroom…”
He nods, looking down at Blue. “Okay, come with me.”
I gather my duffel, and we follow Petey off the plane. It’s five a.m., the sun just starting to rise, graying the world outside the large windows. There are security personnel all around our gate, milling. “I guess they are going to interview the passengers?” I say, dread filling my chest.
“Yes,” Petey says as he nods to a few of the officers. “I’m going to take you for an interview as soon as we take care of…” He looks down at Blue. “What’s his name?”
“Blue,” I say.
“Fitting.”
“Yes,” I agree, biting my lip, anxiety starting to churn. “Do you think they will confiscate the video?”
“Why? You don’t want your heroics getting out?”
“I’m a private person.”
“Who’s trained in Inviting Fire?” That’s the name of Merl’s martial art—the one all Joyful Justice members are trained in.
My eyes shoot up to Petey’s face. He’s looking back at me, his expression impressively blank. “I take kickboxing for the cardio,” I say. “And obviously the self-defense is nice; I mean, I am a woman.” I flutter my eyelashes. “It’s always important to be able to defend myself. Do you have sisters, Petey?”
The question throws him slightly, the blankness morphing into a protective glare for just a moment. He does. “None of your business,” he answers, turning his gaze forward as we head toward a security checkpoint.
Petey speaks to the guards and shows them his badge, then we move out of the airport into balmy early morning air. Blue rushes to the curb and relieves himself. “Okay,” Petey says. “Now we need to go have that interview. The head of airport security wants to speak with you.”
“I’m not going to say anything until my attorney arrives.”
