Smith zip-tied the man under him and then the dead man. Standard procedure, although Val wasn’t sure how Smith knew to do it. According to what she’d dug up on him, he hadn’t had any official training with Guardian—or anyone else for that matter.
Smith bent down beside her and opened his hand. “Real bullets, not plastic cased.” She looked at the .40 Shorty as he continued to speak, “Less recoil than the 10mm 140 grain, but just as much stopping power.” Smith shook his head. “But they couldn’t get through that door. Not with two bullets.”
A man in his thirties sprinted into the area with the female crew member behind him. “I’m a doctor.”
Val moved out of the doctor’s way, and Donnie’s grip released as she moved. Val and Smith walked to the side of the small area. There was something she was missing. Two bullets? What did they hope to do with plastic guns that would shatter with one shot? Her eyes moved from her dead target to the man Smith had taken down, and then to Donnie and the doctor. “What would convince the crew to open up? To come out or let them in?” She nodded toward the flight deck.
Smith stood and helped her up. “It would have to be a damn good reason.”
Val grabbed his arm. “An explosive device?”
“Fuck.” Smith moved damn fast for such a big man. Val flew in the opposite direction. Val entered her target’s pod and pulled out his backpack but only found a load of crap inside. Nothing.
“Here,” Smith spoke to her, and she ran through the bulkhead to get to his pod.
“Shit. Smith, see if either of them has a remote trigger.” Val opened the backpack and stared at the device he’d found. She had no idea what she was looking at, and she’d been through Smoke’s Bomb-making 101 class. “Fuck. Smoke, I hope you’re available.”
“Nothing that could be used as a detonation device. The one who is alive isn’t talking either.” Smith leaned over her. “I could encourage him.”
“Maybe it’ll come to that, but first, I need my cell from my purse. Alert the aircrew and the marshal and get everyone to the back of the plane.”
“Can you disarm it?”
“I don’t even know if it’s armed, but I know someone who will.”
Smith nodded and grabbed the female flight attendant, urgently talking to the woman as he moved toward their seats. Val looked up at a sharp whistle, and Smith lobbed her phone to her. She caught it and turned it on. “Come on, come on.” As soon as the phone powered up, she pushed star thirteen and then pound.
On the second ring, a voice said, “CCS.”
“Sunset Operative Thirteen. I have an urgent situation. I’m on a transcontinental flight, and we have an attempted hijacking. We took out the two men involved, but they have an explosive device. I think.”
“Affirmative. Take a picture of the device and send it while I locate Smoke. Tell the aircrew not to deviate on altitude. It may be rigged to go off when you descend.”
“Fucking hell.” Val waived Smith back to her. “Tell the flight crew not to change altitude. It may be set to go off when they do.”
Smith was on it in a second, and she watched as he briefed the female cabin crew member. To give the woman credit, she didn’t hesitate to head to the phone, and she didn’t ask stupid questions.
Val sent the picture of the wires painted white. Earbuds at the end were haphazardly taped on, and wires ran into the seam of the backpack. Val picked at the hand-sewn seam and opened the fold. Shit. Was that C4? Damn it, she wished like hell she’d picked a later flight. She narrowed her eyes. How did they make it through security? She gently sat the pack down on the seat and looked up again. First class was empty, except for Smith, who was heading her way, the two hijackers, and the doctor with the injured cabin crew member.
“What do you need from me?” Smith stood next to her.
“I need Smoke to answer the damn phone.”
“I’m here.” Smoke’s voice came over the phone, and Val put him on speaker.
“Do we have a picture of the device?”
“Hold on. Let me send it.” Val hit send. “It looks like it’s wired to a flat piece of explosive. C4, maybe.”
“That isn’t C4. From the contouring, I’d say it’s RX-08-HD. A low-viscosity, injection moldable explosive. I don’t see an ignition device, so don’t use a cell phone around it.”
“Too late,” Smith said.
“Who is that?” Smoke asked.
“Smithson Young,” Val answered. “We’re talking to you on my cell.”
“I’m not even going to ask what you two are doing together. I already know.” Smoke mumbled.
“What do we need to do?” Smith asked.
“Send me a photo of the wires. I need to see the complete device.”
Val snapped several shots, including the earbuds, and sent them.
“Well, that is ingenious.”
“What?” she and Smith said at the same time.
“The earbuds. Take one off, but whatever you do, don’t take off both.” Smoke cautioned them.
Val reached forward and pulled off one earbud. The tape had already been loosened. “A naked wire.” She described what she saw as she pulled it away. “Wait, there’s a small battery, like for a hearing aid, attached to the tip of the wire.”
“All right, that’s the ignition point. To blow the device, the two wires only need to connect to complete the circuit. Don’t let them touch.”
“Understatement of the year right there, Smoke.” Val placed the earbud back on the wire and used the dangling tape to re-secure it.
“CCS here. Patching in Anubis and Fury.”
Val stood up and rolled her eyes, mouthing “Sorry” to Smith.
“Fury online.”
“Anubis online.”
“Sit rep,” Fury demanded.
Val started. “We’re on a transcontinental flight—”
“Who is we?” Fury interrupted her.
“I’m traveling with Smithson Young.”
“Who the fuck is that?” Fury demanded.
“I know him and can vouch for him. He’s a Guardian,” Smoke interjected.
“Clearance level?” Anubis added to the inquisition.
“Not high enough,” Smoke said.
“He’s fucking getting upgraded. CCS, make that happen. Highest priority. Valkyrie, he’s your responsibility until then,” Fury spat out the commands.
“I’ll take care of it,” Smoke said. “Charley and Gabriel have an in with the Office of Personnel Management, and until we get our processors back up to speed, we’re depending on them for investigations.”
“Do it,” Fury commanded.
“Well, yeah, I said I would,” Smoke replied in his laid-back way. Val loved the guy. He had a way of defusing tension, even tension from the highest levels.
Val interrupted what was sure to be a conversation between the two management types. “Did you want me to finish the brief, or are we going to debate Smithson’s clearance at thirty thousand feet with one dead hijacker, a wounded cabin crew member, and one live, if slightly crushed, hijacker?”
“Crushed? That was you wasn’t it, Smith?” Smoke chuckled.