Free Out of the Shadows by Melanie Mitchell Page A

“airplane,” followed by other phrases including the Swahili words for “night” and “travel.” He moved as if to get into the plane, but one of the men stopped him. They exchanged a few words.
    Leslie felt her jaw clench as Ben appeared to answer a question angrily, and a brief argument followed. Finally, he nodded, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a handful of Kenyan shillings. She watched as he counted out several of the larger bills and handed the money to one of the men. With that, he opened the door and climbed into the plane.
    Ben did not acknowledge Leslie as he prepared to take off. She noted that the armed trio seemed to have lost interest in the plane and its occupants. Ben had left the two bottles with them, and they were focused on consuming the remainder of the contents as they waited for the plane to depart.
    Ben did not bother with his routine preflight check. He simply started the engine and taxied to the far end of the field. In less than a minute they were airborne, and immediately the cabin of the small plane cooled.
    Relieved at not being detained or worse, and much more comfortable in the cool air of the higher altitude, Leslie relaxed a little. She stared straight ahead, but her attention returned to Ben when she heard him give out a deep “Whew!”
    “What?” she responded edgily.
    His eyes were focused on the dials and indicators on the flight panel, but while holding the control of the plane with one hand, he reached into his pocket with the other and pulled out what remained of the bourbon. He took a drink and then surprised her when he grinned. In a voice loud enough to be heard over the engine’s roar he said, “That was a little nerve-racking, wasn’t it?”
    With each passing mile, her apprehension and irritation had lessened, replaced by relief and then curiosity. “What just happened?”
    His answer was surprisingly nonchalant. “Oh, just some local government thugs, shaking us down.”
    Leslie was incredulous. “ What? You mean those men were officials?”
    Ben nodded and took another sip.
    “And you bribed them?”
    He glanced at her and then shrugged. “Yeah...so?”
    She didn’t answer but turned to gaze out the window, bewildered. She wasn’t sure Ben was much better than the thugs.
    Ben huffed audibly at her response. When she glanced back to face him, he rolled his eyes and said, “And what was I supposed to do? Demand to see some paperwork? Appeal to their softer side?” His tone grew more impatient and his words grew louder. “Explain my rights as an American? Dazzle them with my charm and good looks?”
    He was practically shouting. Hell, he thought as he finished the tirade—that was pretty much what he had done. He’d ingratiated himself with fast talking and jokes, along with a couple of bottles of bourbon and about $200, to be allowed to leave. He was simultaneously glad that she didn’t realize the precariousness of the situation and irritated that she didn’t understand how lucky they were to get away for only a couple hundred dollars and two bottles of cheap booze. He mirrored her response as he turned to stare out of his window.
    Leslie recognized that she was being unreasonable. She sighed. “Ben, I’m sorry. I know I should be happy to be out of there. I just wasn’t expecting...well, I wasn’t expecting that.” She rubbed her forehead with her hand and sighed again.
    Ben’s temper evaporated. He glanced at her. “Look, I get it. I know it’s a shock, but that’s just how things are done here.” He took another swallow from the flask.
    Her irritation returned in a heartbeat, and in the sternest voice she could muster, she said, “I really wish you wouldn’t drink any more of that until we land.”
    Ben simply grinned and held the bottle out to her. “Here, have a drink. It’ll make you feel better.”
    Leslie ignored the offered bottle and said flatly, “I don’t think so.”
    Ben persisted. “Come on. Just one sip and