Free Pilot Error by T.C. Ravenscraft

through the dense undergrowth, because it was simply easier to let him think he had won.
    The purple shirt he'd used as a compress for his head was now tucked away inside his camera bag, and the alternative wasn't making life any easier. She would have rather faced any other nasty surprises he had in that bag of his than to look at his 'perfect physique' another moment longer. Geez, did he spend all his free time at a gym?
    Reluctantly glancing at his sweaty bare back, Micki tried hard not to notice the way his muscles moved as he tore at the foliage to clear a path. No wonder he'd had absolutely no trouble supporting her when she'd fallen off the stepladder...
    At that thought, and of how it felt to be held against those muscles, she shook her head and angrily looked away, drawing a surprised glance from Fizz who trotted beside her with a stick in his mouth. Looking back at Luke as he kept up a steady pace, she considered the handgun tucked into the back of his shorts. It would be easy to grab control of it. If anyone had to have the advantage of a gun, then Micki would rather it be her. She didn't trust Luke Hardigan as far as she could kick him.
    Closing the gap between them with a couple of quick steps, she was just reaching out a hesitant hand when he turned aside and lifted a tree branch for her to duck under. That made her scowl. Being reduced to the role of the Helpless Female who needed Indiana Hardigan to blaze the trail was even worse than not having possession of the stupid gun!
    Beyond the branch, she took a step to capture the lead but, as if he was aware of her intent, Luke stepped around her. His six-foot frame blocked the tiny trail they were following and Micki again found herself relegated to bringing up the rear.
    The only reason, she told herself vehemently as she adjusted the backpack more comfortably on her shoulders, the only reason that she didn't argue the point was to save time and breath. As for the gun, well, to take it would lead to another confrontation, and she didn't have time or breath for that either. For the moment, she would let things stay as they were. Luke appeared to know what he was doing, but just let him walk them in a big circle and then she was going to insist that she lead.
    He stopped suddenly as the vegetation gave way to rock and sand. "Get down!"
    Such was the authority in his tone that Micki obeyed without question. Dropping to one knee beside him in the underbrush, she watched two red-hulled speedboats cruise past, headed toward the beach with the wrecked Cessna.
    When they were out of sight, Luke glanced at his gold Rolex and said, "I figure we have maybe half an hour head start."
    Micki swallowed the lump in her throat, the memory of them shooting at her still fresh in her mind. The last thing she wanted was to face those Uzis—or AK whatevers—at close range. "Why are those blokes after you? What have you done?"
    "You mean 'after us,' don't you?"
    "I haven't done anything! I don't even know who they are!"
    "Yes, you have. You helped me locate their stash."
    "Not on purpose! That was all your doing. And stash of what? Look, what's this all about? Okay, so there was some sort of building back there. It doesn't prove—"
    "Micki, they tried to kill us, remember? They're not just going to let us walk away and tell the authorities about it. Right now, if we want to stay alive, we have to buy some time."
    Time. It was perhaps the only commodity they didn't have. Micki cast an appraising look at the sky. To the southeast, a squall line of cumulonimbus clouds crouched on the horizon like an invading army waiting for the order to attack. They would gain strength through the brooding heat of the day and eventually move in to envelop the Keys. The sun was still shining where Micki was, but it wouldn't be for much longer.
    "There's a storm headed our way," she admitted. "A nasty one from the look of those thunderheads."
    Luke glanced upward as if he had never once considered the