Free Seven Wonders Book 3 by Peter Lerangis

the plane’s wall for support.
    Dr. Bradley beat me to her. She was feeling Aly’s pulse and looking at her face with a flashlight.
    Aly flinched and turned away. “Owww . . . turn that thing off. I have a headache.”
    I exhaled with relief, crumpling to the floor of the plane. “You have quite a lump,” Dr. Bradley said. “We’ll have to examine you more closely.”
    â€œJack . . .” she murmured. “How is Jack?”
    â€œFine,” Cass said. “I am, too. And Torquin. In case you were wondering.”
    I felt my face turning red. “How’s the professor?”
    â€œShaken up but okay,” Dr. Bradley said. “Ironically, lying down in that protected area, he was the least vulnerable of us all.”
    â€œLanding gear gone,” Torquin announced, digging a rope ladder from under his seat. “Use this.”
    He unlatched the door and it swung open sharply. As he fastened the end of the ladder and dropped the rest of it out the door, my eyes were fixed on an old Toyota speeding toward us across the rocky soil. As it skidded to a stop, the driver-side door flew open.
    I knew it was my dad without even seeing his face. I could tell by the angle of his feet, pointing outward as if they’d been screwed on slightly wrong. “Jack!” he shouted, running hard toward the tilted plane. “Jack, where are you?”
    The ladder was only about eight feet. But I stood frozen in the doorway. Dad was smiling so hard I thought his face would crack. His hair was less brown than gray now, his face lined a bit more than I remembered. Which seemed impossible, because I’d seen him only a few weeks ago.
    He stood at the bottom of the ladder, holding out his arms, and even though I’m way too heavy I jumped. He caught me and held tight, turning around and around, swinging me like I was a little kid. He was crying, repeating “Oh thank god” over and over, and even though I was crying, too, I kept silent because I just wanted to hear his voice.
    â€œI’m okay, Dad,” I said as he set me down and we began walking away from the jet. “Really. What is this place? Why are you in Mongolia?”
    â€œWhere have you been?” he said. “I want to know everything!”
    As Cass and Aly scrambled down the ladder, a medical van with the logo MGL skidded to a stop.
    â€œLook, Dad,” I said, “there’s someone on the plane who needs to go directly to a hospital. He’s pretty old and in bad shape.”
    â€œOkay . . . right . . . roger that.” As Dad’s eyes moved toward the plane, his whole face seemed to stiffen. I glanced back to see Dr. Bradley and Torquin carefully lowering the professor out of the plane. Emergency workers were already racing toward them with a stretcher.
    â€œThat’s just Torquin,” I explained. “He’s a little strange looking, but he grows on you. These are Cass Williams and Aly Black.”
    But Dad wasn’t paying attention. “Radamanthus Bhegad . . .” he murmured. “What is that man doing here?”
    â€œYou’ve heard of him?” I said. “He was a famous professor at Princeton or something.”
    â€œYale,” Cass called out.
    Bhegad moaned painfully as the team of white-coated Mongolian workers set him on the stretcher. Dad stood over them, his hands on his hips. “Just a second,” he said. “I have a few questions before anyone moves this man.”
    Professor Bhegad’s eyes were hollow and scared. “M-Martin . . .” he sputtered.
    How did Professor Bhegad know my dad’s name?
    â€œI’m Dr. Theresa Bradley,” Dr. Bradley said. “We have to take the professor to a medical facility immediately or he may die.”
    â€œI am a fair and kind man,” Dad said, his face turning redder. “I believe in charity and forgiveness and liberty, and I