Page 2 of Final Approach (Lake City Heroes #4)

Andrew stepped out of the lavatory, his eyes bouncing between Kristine and the hijacker, who had his back to Andrew.

It took him a nanosecond to read the situation.

She shot him a quick glance and he gave a subtle nod indicating his readiness to help.

His hand went to his weapon. Would he have a shot?

No. Amanda had just moved between Andrew and the hijacker. He frowned and shook his head. No shot.

Passengers whispered prayers, some crying, as the hijacker’s hand trembled.

In a flash of movement, a man across the aisle lunged at the hijacker. The cabin erupted into chaos as the assailant, caught off guard, plunged the homemade weapon into his hostage’s shoulder.

The wounded woman’s scream echoed through the cabin and she went to the floor—and left the knife in the hijacker’s hand.

He swung the blade and caught his attacker across a raised forearm.

Blood spurted and the man screamed and fell back.

Another passenger jumped up to help him. “I’m a nurse,” she said.

Andrew rushed at the hijacker and Kristine looked for an opening.

Anywhere she could put a bullet in the man, but he twisted and slipped away from Andrew.

Quick as a blink, he had his weapon against another woman’s throat.

“He shouldn’t have done that! He shouldn’t have .

.. I didn’t ... She’s...” He turned his attention to his new captive.

“Get your seat belt off and stand up or I’ll cut you too! ”

Lainie rushed to help the fallen woman while James looked like he wanted to protest, but he clamped his mouth shut.

“Now!” The assailant’s scream propelled the passenger to her feet. He pressed the knife against her skin, nicking it. A trickle of blood slid down and disappeared into the collar of her T-shirt. She squeezed her eyes shut but made no sound.

Kristine edged toward the assailant while motioning to Andrew to go to the left. He nodded his understanding and moved in accordance.

The hijacker swung the knife in front of him, keeping everyone at bay, then pressed the weapon once more against the neck of his hostage. “Stay away. I need in the cockpit. Someone open the cockpit door now or I’ll—I’ll slice her open! I will.”

The woman bit her lip. Kristine caught her gaze and tried to convey she needed to remain calm. The woman stayed quiet, but her fear was a tangible thing.

Kristine didn’t blame her.

Andrew moved in sync with Kristine, edging closer to the hijacker.

Slow, calculated steps. Each second stretched into an eternity while her mind raced, planning her next move.

She had to end this before anyone else got hurt.

Her mother’s death flashed in her mind. Had her mom been as afraid as this hostage?

Kristine could see the woman’s tremors from her position in the aisle, but she was trying to be brave, to be strong.

“Sir,” Kristine said, “no one can open the cockpit. You know that.”

His eyes swept the sea of passengers. Some who were on their feet. He was looking for someone. His gaze locked on one of the passengers and tears trickled down his ashen cheeks.

“Th-then she dies!”

“No!” Kristine held out a hand. “Wait. Tell me. Once you get the cockpit door open, what do you plan to do?”

“Take control and fly where I want to go.” His eyes flickered, and Kristine had a bad feeling he wasn’t telling the truth.

“You can fly a plane?” She would play along for now.

He snorted. “Of course not. The pilot will.”

Andrew had settled into an empty seat so when the man swiveled his head to look in his direction, Andrew looked like any other passenger.

When the guy turned his attention back to Kristine, she caught Andrew’s movement from the corner of her eye.

He stood and moved closer. Nathan was ready to act as well.

James, Kenzie, and Cole were waiting for her signal, but right now, no one had a clear way to stop this man without possibly hurting someone else.

The hijacker held the knife out in front of him once more, briefly removing it from the woman’s throat. “Stop moving!”

Kristine froze and he swept the knife back beneath the woman’s chin.

“I’m sorry. I have to do this. It’s time.”

TIME FOR WHAT? Andrew wondered.

“Time for what?” Kristine said.

“Time to do what I ask,” the guy said.

Kristine took another step forward. “Where do you want to go? What’s your plan?”

He shoved the knife toward her. “Stop!” Then back to his victim’s throat. “It’s not your business. All I need is to talk to the captain. I’ll tell him where to go.”

“What’s your name?”

“It doesn’t matter. Stop moving!” The knife swept out and back one more time.

Kristine stopped. “What are you going to do?” She took one more small step toward him.

Come on , shift and give me a clear shot. Andrew silently willed the man to move. But he was being surprisingly clever in his positioning.

“Hey! Put it down!” The yell came from several rows back in the main cabin.

Kristine shot a glance over her shoulder and Andrew caught movement in his peripheral vision. A passenger from the back raced up the aisle to tackle another passenger. Kristine’s attention momentarily shifted to the commotion.

The man holding the other passenger on the floor of the plane looked up. “He was heading toward you! I had to stop him!”

“Stay there,” Kristine ordered. “Both of you!”

She took another step toward the attacker, who swung the weapon out toward her. “Stop moving! I’m not playing with you!”

Before he could pull the knife back toward his hostage, Andrew moved fast, coming up from behind.

He jammed his left arm over the attacker’s right forearm, shoved the woman away, then grabbed the guy’s wrist with his free hand.

He twisted the captured arm down and back.

The man screamed and struggled, but his one-armed fight was no match for Andrew’s vise-like grip.

Kristine lunged in and snapped a cuff around the extended wrist while Andrew finally put enough pressure on the hijacker’s other wrist that he released the weapon.

It clunked to the floor. Nathan swooped in to snag it with a gloved hand, Andrew cuffed the defeated man’s other wrist, and then it was over.

Then the clapping started. Passenger by passenger until the plane was filled with thunderous applause by those who weren’t capturing the moment on their phones.

Ugh.

“I’ll stay with him,” Kristine said. “You call it in.”

He nodded and got on his phone.

Lainie had the plane’s first aid kit and had put it to good use to help the woman who’d been stabbed.

“How is she?” Kristine asked.

“Fortunate. Her name is Bri. I’ve cleaned and bandaged it as best I could, but she needs stitches and pain meds.

Thankfully, the blade went in just above her collarbone, and while painful, I don’t think it went deep enough to cut anything major.

Jugular is intact and she’s breathing great.

” Lainie smiled at the woman, who blinked up at them from her position on the floor.

She patted the woman’s non-wounded shoulder. “You’re going to be fine, Bri.”

“Thank you,” Bri whispered, then closed her eyes.

“I was going to take a look at the other woman, but when I started to go to her, she waved me off.”

Kristine patted her friend’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

Thirty minutes later, they touched back down on the Lake City tarmac and rolled to a stop at the gate. The prisoner sat still and silent, chin touching his chest, refusing to talk or look at anyone.

As soon as the door was opened, Andrew hauled the sullen man to his feet, and he and the others escorted him into the hands of waiting FBI agents.

He’d be taken to the Lake City County Detention Center where Andrew and Nathan would head to question him.

He could only hope the guy was in a more talkative mood than he’d been once detained.

Andrew stood on the tarmac and gripped the bag holding the weapon.

He marveled at the creative piece of “art.” Sturdy wire cut into pieces fashioned into a blade and held together with superglue.

Then superglued to the end of a toothbrush.

Everything that fashioned the “knife” was allowed in a carry-on or could be purchased in the airport after going through security.

Except for the wire and the superglue. So how had those two items made it through security?

“Unbelievable,” he muttered. He couldn’t wait to search the guy’s bag.

“That’s the weapon?” Kristine asked.

He turned. As always, her beauty threatened to unnerve him. He cleared his throat and ordered himself to focus. “Yes. It’s clever, I’ll give him that.” Nathan and the others joined them.

“Who is he?” Nathan asked.

Andrew held up a black leather wallet. “ID says Marcus Brown. Forty-seven years old. Lives in Lake City.” They walked into the terminal. “You ready to go talk to him? I had a friend drop off a car for me.”

“Great minds think alike,” Nathan said. “I’ll see you there.”

Lainie oversaw the transport of her patient and the other two wounded passengers to the waiting ambulances and said goodbye to the others.

Andrew glanced at his phone. His mother had texted him.

I saw the news. Are you all right?

He tapped,

I’m fine, Mom. Back in Lake City, but fine. I’ll fill you in soon. Let Felix and Carson know pls.

She sent him a thumbs-up and a heart, and he tucked his phone back into his pocket. His brothers would be messaging any moment now. Instead of waiting for them to do so, he sent them a text on the family loop.

I’m fine. Busy wrapping things up. Will text or call later. Love you all.

His brother Carson was thirty-three years old and an architect in Atlanta, Georgia.

He was older than Andrew by twenty-three months.

Felix, their younger brother at twenty-nine years old, was a professional photographer, high in demand in the wedding and family portrait industry.

He worked out of Greenville, South Carolina, and was married, with two girls.

Andrew found it rather odd his parents tended to land where he was and not with their grandchildren, but he was glad whatever their reasons were.

He climbed into the Bucar and headed for the detention center.