The Abandoned (A Sarah Roberts Thriller Book 14) Read online

  The phone on the wall rang over Jasmijn’s head.

  Right on time.

  She met Sarah’s eyes, but didn’t move.

  “Get it.” Sarah nodded at the phone. “It’s the captain.”

  On the third ring, Jasmijn pulled the phone to her ear. She identified herself and listened, nodding once, her eyes never leaving Sarah.

  “Yes sir,” she said, then replaced the phone. “The captain said the front wheel isn’t responding properly.”

  “I know. It’s retracted. It’s stuck in a sideways position.”

  Jasmijn acted as if she’d been struck in the head, rearing back from Sarah, her jaw slack, eyes wide.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “That’s what he said.”

  “Now, I need you to remove those people. Take them to the back of the plane. Fill all empty seats and have men get on the floor and lock arms to ground themselves.”

  Something like recognition flashed across Jasmijn’s face. Using the wall behind her, she pushed herself up to standing. The look of amazement moments before had turned to defiance now.

  “You don’t give the orders on this plane. We have had trouble with you since you boarded—”

  “Oh come on,” Sarah cut in. “What, I’ve been out of my seat a few times? Yeah, real trouble. That’s me.”

  “I will not take passengers out of their seats and have them lock arms somewhere else on the plane. The captain assures me we can land with the defective front wheel. He’ll keep the nose up as long as he can, reverse thrusters in place. We’ll have a small amount of travel on the front wheel and emergency services will be mobilized along the runway. This in no way is a crash landing. We will be fine and you will go to jail for orchestrating a terrorist act on my plane. The only way you could know about the wheel is because you sabotaged it.”

  “What’s your horse’s name?” Sarah asked.

  Jasmijn blinked. She moved away from Sarah and stepped into the aisle.

  “Excuse me?” Jasmijn asked in a terrible posh accent.

  “Your horse. The one you rode in on. That high bugger. What’s his name?”

  Jasmijn wagged a finger at Sarah. “You’re in a load of trouble.”

  Sarah stepped closer to her. “If you don’t do as I say, a lot of people will die on this flight. I’m trying to save lives here.”

  “No, you’re trying to kill people. I can see it in your face.”

  “You know, sometimes I make people earn a fuck.” Sarah looked down at her fingers as she checked a nail, shaking her head as if Jasmijn had disappointed her. “I don’t give many fucks away. They’re not free, you know. But with you, I think I can make an exception. Like I said, I usually don’t give a fuck, but with you I’ll let this one go.”

  “You’re insane.” Jasmijn had backed away to the wall beside the curtain’s opening. “When we’re on the ground you can explain yourself to the Netherlands police.”

  “I told you the captain would call,” Sarah said, holding back a shout. “I told you why. Then I ask you to move passengers for their own safety. But you refuse. So tell me who the police will be more interested in. You or me? Who’s trying to save passengers here?”

  Jasmijn backed through the curtain and disappeared.

  “Shit,” Sarah mumbled under her breath. “That didn’t go well.”

  Soft tremors of fear rippled through her at the thought of a crash landing. Overrunning the end of the runway, the plane breaking apart.

  Hey Vivian, did I have to be on this doomed plane? I mean, really?

  She started up the aisle toward the front of the plane. It was time to make an announcement. The passengers needed to know who she was and why she knew what she knew.

  It was time to save lives whether the flight crew agreed with her or not.

  And she had a knife thanks to Casper.

  She only hoped she wouldn’t have to use it.

  Chapter 5

  Buck Schaffer made his way to the front of the plane. Outside the cockpit door, he slipped into the alcove where the flight crew made coffee.

  After turning his cell phone off airplane mode, he waited to see if the plane was close enough to land for his phone to latch onto a cell tower, but it didn’t. He began texting anyway. As soon as the phone picked up a tower, the message would send automatically.

  He typed that he was in contact with Sarah Roberts. He was currently with her and would stay with her while she was in Europe. Then he would bring her back to the U.S. whether she wanted to go or not.

  He was the one man who would be able to convince her to go as she would learn to trust him. He had a few plans set in place for Sarah’s Amsterdam trip that would endear her to him. He couldn’t fail because Sarah was just one girl, one pliable girl. Even the smartest person could be outwitted if done correctly and his plan was foolproof. Sarah would be his, like melted butter on popcorn. All he needed was the right temperature, the right atmosphere, and she would do as he said.

  Or Sarah Roberts would be taken out.

  His mission was simple. Sarah’s compliance or termination. If she was willing to work with him, things would go smoothly. If she refused, it would be better for all parties involved that Sarah was dead. Killed in a public display would serve his purposes the best.

  A part of him wanted her dead. The workload was minimized in that case. He would have less to do. But alive, she swept fear into the hearts of their common enemy. Even though his mission was to win her over, thereby keeping her alive, murdering her would be just as pleasurable.

  Alive or dead, Sarah Roberts would serve her purpose. He would see to it. So far she was already the unwitting actor in his dangerous play.

  When the plane landed, she would be arrested for smuggling a concealed weapon onto the plane. How would she explain the knife? Would she say he gave it to her? A man who disappeared like a ghost and wasn’t on the plane’s itinerary. As far as ITA is concerned, he was never on the plane.

  Her story wouldn’t hold. The American Embassy was prepared for the inevitable call. Leaving her to her own devices with the Netherland authorities would keep her off Amsterdam’s streets for long enough to stay out of Buck’s way.

  Then he would swoop in, break her out and she would learn to trust him.

  Or she would prove too difficult to work with, become unreliable and he would kill her and dump her in the canal. The newspapers would run with the finding of a popular American girl bobbing in the dirty canal waters.

  Whatever end result came about worked for him.

  He hit the send button on the text, slipped his phone away and checked to see that his gun was ready.

  The plane banked sharply. He held onto the counter for balance.

  Alive or dead, Sarah Roberts would serve her purpose.

  Alive or preferably dead.

  Suddenly, a woman screamed about the plane crashing. Someone struggled, then grunted.

  Buck “Casper” Schaffer yanked the curtain out of his way and looked in on the pandemonium.

  Chapter 6

  At the mouth of the aisle that led back from row one, Sarah prepared to address the passengers. She saw the teenage boy from the lavatory earlier. He smiled at her. A good-looking boy, glasses, a nice smile. Instead of addressing everyone at once, she decided to talk to the boy first with the goal of making him an ally.

  She knelt down by his seat. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Conner Quinton.”

  Sarah nodded at the woman beside him. “Is this your mother?”

  Conner nodded. “Her name is Sara.”

  “Oh, hey, nice name. I’m a Sarah, too.” She adjusted her legs as they cramped. “Where’s your dad?”

  Conner shot his eyes skyward, then looked back at Sarah. “My father is gone. Died serving his country.”

  Conner’s eyes welled up with tears.

  Sarah placed a hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry for your loss. But I need you to do something for me that’ll make your father—and mother
—proud.”

  “What’s that?”

  Conner’s mother leaned in closer to listen.

  “Your birthday is coming up in, wait for it …” Sarah listened for Vivian. She held up a finger, then lowered it. “July. I think it’s the seventeenth.”

  “That’s right!” Conner exclaimed. “How did you—” He looked at his mother, then back at Sarah.

  She addressed Conner’s mother. “You have a great network of family and friends. You’re doing a wonderful job with Conner. But I need him to man up right now. I need him to be strong not just for you, but for me and everyone on this plane.”

  “How so?” Conner’s mother asked. “What do you want him to do?”

  “Wait for a few seconds. The captain will explain. I’ll cover the rest.”

  Sarah sat down in the aisle and stretched her legs. Other passengers watched her, but she didn’t care. Once the captain announced the situation, people would be more willing to listen to her. At least she hoped so.

  A moment later, the captain came on. He explained there was a problem with one of the wheels and that everything would be fine. They were in final approach and emergency crews were on standby. Could everyone please place their heads between their knees and hold them there until the plane came to a full stop. The flight crew will open the doors and deploy the chutes. Leave everything behind.

  Sarah got back on her feet. The air in the cabin had thickened. People wore panicked, pained expressions. Over half of them had already lowered their heads.

  “Conner, here’s the problem. Rows five to twenty-one are going to split apart during the landing.”

  He gasped and reared back, clutching his mother’s arm.

  His mother leaned across him. “We’re in row six,” she said.

  Sarah nodded. “I know. You need to move to the back of the plane to be safe. The plane will be okay, but with the bad wheel, we’re going to overshoot the runway. Once on the grass, the body of the plane will crack open under the stress. Rows five to twenty-one will break up. I need all these people,” she swung her arm wide, “to huddle at the back of the plane. I need your help.”

  Conner locked hands with his mother, looked into her eyes, and nodded. His mother nodded back.

  “We’ll help,” Conner said.

  “Good. We have less than five minutes. Let’s do this.”

  Sarah got to her feet.

  “Can I have everyone’s attention?” she shouted.

  Heads rose from between knees to look at her.

  “As the captain said, the plane will land with a defective wheel. Overall, it’ll be a decent landing. We have a good pilot. But rows five to twenty-one are where the plane will break apart when it overshoots the runway—”

  A woman shouted over Sarah’s voice, drowning her out. Someone jumped to his feet and tried to climb over someone else, grunting as he did so.

  Like a comedian being heckled off stage, at least five voices rose over each other to quiz Sarah on how she knew this.

  Conner and his mother got out of their seats beside Sarah.

  “We’re not going to risk it,” Conner said loud enough to be heard by the passengers in his immediate area. “She knows what she’s talking about,” he said, jerking a thumb her way. “She knew things.” His eyes watered, a tear spilling over his cheek. “Like my birth date. She’s psychic or something.”

  Conner’s mother was nodding behind him. “Let’s go. Please join us at the back of the plane. These seats are doomed.”

  The Quintons started aft.

  “At least I’ve saved two people,” Sarah shouted. “Anyone else want to live to enjoy Amsterdam?”

  At least half the seats from row five to twenty-one began emptying. But that wasn’t enough. The alcove that led to the back of the plane on the right aisle started to jam up. Then Sarah saw why. Jasmijn Luna and her crew, bent on stopping Sarah, were swimming upstream in their attempt to get to her. Jasmijn’s voice was loud enough for Sarah to hear her shouting for everyone to retake their seats, but the people she struggled against weren’t listening.

  Sarah scanned the rest of the faces and tried to count them, feeling optimistic at the low number. At least fifteen people remained in the doomed rows.

  Her peripheral vision caught movement behind her. She twisted to see Casper standing by the cockpit door.

  What’s he doing up here?

  Jasmijn and her crew were getting through. Any second she would be in the open, at which time they would rapidly close the gap and attempt to subdue Sarah. But there were still fifteen people to save.

  A quick look out one of the windows showed the land below was close and getting closer every second.

  “Everyone, listen up,” Sarah shouted. “This is not a drill. This is serious. Either leave your seats now and make your way to the back of the plane, or you will die.”

  Six people got up and started toward the back. They used the aisle Jasmijn was in, offering Sarah a few more precious seconds. She didn’t want to use the knife, but would if needed. People’s lives depended on her. She would save them at any cost.

  Her stomach did a flip and nausea rose in her throat. The ground was dangerously close. She, too, needed to get to the back of the plane.

  Jasmijn broke through and ran for Sarah. Four members of her crew, two male, two female, were pushed back in the rush of the last few passengers heading toward the back.

  Sarah waited, her hand in her back pocket, fingers wrapped around the knife, silently thanking Casper for offering it to her.

  Jasmijn lunged, no doubt assuming her backup was with her.

  Sarah was ready. She feinted left, yanked the knife from her back pocket, pivoted around Jasmijn and came up behind her as Jasmijn tried to right herself. The blade came up against Jasmijn’s throat as Sarah pulled back on the flight attendant to keep her off balance.

  “Don’t make me slice through the carotid artery,” Sarah said loud enough for everyone in the remaining seats to hear. “She’ll bleed out before we touch the ground.” Sarah jerked her arm. Jasmijn yelped. “Now that I’ve got your attention, I want everyone else in rows five to twenty-one to get up and run for the back of the plane or this woman’s death is on your head.”

  All but three men got up and started for the back. One of the three remaining stood and turned toward Sarah. He was in his sixties, but still trim. A runner, maybe. Clean cut gray hair, well dressed.

  “I’m a retired police officer,” he said. “Let’s talk about this. Release the woman.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Move away from the area, or stay and watch her die.”

  The other two men stood and started toward Sarah.

  What’s Casper doing? Why isn’t he helping?

  Sarah pulled on Jasmijn, keeping her off balance. Jasmijn’s hands were on the backs of a seat on either side of the aisle. Sarah couldn’t see her face, but had to assume that her eyes were wide and her mouth agape.

  “Okay, stay then,” Sarah said. “But I’m heading to the back. I don’t want to die on this plane.”

  Jasmijn’s flight crew broke through and ran up the aisle.

  “Stay back,” Sarah yelled.

  They slowed and stopped a few feet away.

  The plane touched down on its rear wheels with a sudden jolt.

  Sarah’s stomach dropped and her knees weakened her resolve. She held Jasmijn hostage near the seventh row. The plane would break apart exactly where they were standing when they hit the end of the runway.

  The distinctive sound of a gun’s slide jolted her from the moment of paralysis. Casper stepped into view beside her, his weapon raised.

  “Get back,” he yelled. “Everyone, go to the back of the plane, now.”

  The crew members turned and retreated through the door they had come through. The retired police officer and his two cohorts who were willing to stay behind earlier listened without further protest.

  The nose of the plane touched down.

  Sarah rele
ased Jasmijn and shoved her away. Jasmijn clamped a hand to her throat and ran after her coworkers.

  The seats were all empty.

  Through the windows on the right, sparks flew up past the wing. They weren’t slowing down fast enough.

  “Come on,” Sarah shouted, but Casper was already running up aisle two, headed toward the cockpit.

  Sarah started after him, dropping the knife as she ran.