Chapter 7 - The Bleeding Captain
I screamed in absolute terror as the bloody hand smeared bright red streaks across the thick, bulletproof glass.
It was not Tyler's hand pressing against the window.
Through the smeared blood, I saw the face of the co-pilot, his eyes wide and completely manic.
He was not unconscious at all; he had faked his injuries to catch my husband off guard.
"Tyler!" I screamed frantically, violently rattling the heavy metal handle of the broken door.
It was jammed completely shut from the inside, the damaged locking mechanism fused by the earlier struggle.
I could see Tyler in the background, slumped dangerously over the main control console, desperately trying to pull the heavy yoke back.
The co-pilot grinned wickedly through the glass, raising a heavy metal fire extinguisher above Tyler's unprotected head.
"Shoot the lock!" I turned and screamed at the Air Marshal, who was still holding Valerie down.
The Air Marshal hesitated for a fraction of a second, realizing the extreme danger of firing a weapon at a pressurized cockpit door.
"Do it now, or we all die!" I shrieked, my voice tearing in my throat.
He abandoned Valerie for just a second, drawing his weapon and firing three deafening shots directly into the heavy metal lock.
The door shuddered violently but miraculously swung open under the intense pressure of the bullets.
I did not even wait for the smoke to clear before I launched myself furiously into the cramped cockpit.
I tackled the co-pilot directly around his waist, driving my shoulder hard into his ribs just as he swung the extinguisher.
The heavy red cylinder missed Tyler's skull by mere inches, smashing violently into the complex instrument panel.
Sparks showered everywhere as multiple warning alarms immediately began blaring in a deafening chorus.
The co-pilot snarled and threw me off him effortlessly, his physical strength completely overwhelming my adrenaline-fueled attack.
He reached down into his blood-soaked uniform and pulled out a small, lethal combat knife.
"You should have stayed in your seat, little wife," he spat, lunging directly at my chest with the blade.
I scrambled backward, but there was absolutely nowhere left to retreat in the tiny, enclosed space.
Suddenly, a heavy boot kicked upward from the pilot's chair, catching the co-pilot squarely in the jaw.
Tyler, though bleeding heavily from a deep gunshot wound in his shoulder, had found the strength to fight back.
The co-pilot stumbled backward dizzily, dropping the knife onto the metal floor grating.
Before he could recover his balance, the Air Marshal rushed into the cockpit and struck him in the back of the head with the butt of his pistol.
The cartel operative collapsed into a heavy, unconscious heap on the floor.
I rushed over to Tyler, pressing my hands frantically against his profusely bleeding shoulder to slow the hemorrhage.
"I have got you, I am right here," I sobbed, kissing his pale, sweat-drenched cheek.
Tyler offered a weak, pained smile, his hands still gripping the heavy flight yoke with white knuckles.
"You are incredible, Sarah, but you need to sit in the co-pilot seat right now," he gasped out, wincing in agony.
May you like
He nodded weakly toward the massive windshield, and my heart completely stopped in my chest.
We were plummeting out of the sky at a terrifying speed, heading directly toward a dense, unforgiving mountain range.
