“Do it,” Fury commanded.
“Well, yeah, I said I would,” Smoke replied in his laid-back way. Val loved the guy. He had a way of defusing tension, even tension from the highest levels.
Val interrupted what was sure to be a conversation between the two management types. “Did you want me to finish the brief, or are we going to debate Smithson’s clearance at thirty thousand feet with one dead hijacker, a wounded cabin crew member, and one live, if slightly crushed, hijacker?”
“Crushed? That was you wasn’t it, Smith?” Smoke chuckled.
The corner of Smith’s mouth ticked up. So did Val’s. Fury sighed. “Anubis, get with our European counterparts and brief them on the situation if Air Traffic Control hasn’t already done so. Val, you need to disappear.”
“I know. We’ll make it happen.” Val nodded. She was prepared to become a wallflower in the situation. “Smith has been the point on all interaction with the aircrew, and I tagged the broken neck of the first hijacker on him.”
Fury grunted. “Good call. We can work with that. What airport are you heading to?”
“Heathrow. At least, that was the plan. Not sure they’ll let us in British air space now.”
“On it,” Anubis said.
“CCS, get them up and follow them.”
“Flight number?” the woman asked.
“Eight-eight-three-six,” Val replied. “Is CCS fully operational?”
“Seventy-five percent for emergencies. It’s only been a few months since my office blew up. We have a lot of work to do,” the woman said. “However it isn’t needed for this. All flights are broadcast for governmental monitoring of Air Traffic Control. I can hop on the back of any number of programs, and … there you are. Approaching Scotland.”
“Val, once you get yourself and Smith out of the clusterfuck this situation put you in, you’ll call. We’ll need a complete debrief.” Fury cleared his throat. “Good job. Fury out.”
“Oh, damn, I bet that hurt him.” Smoke chuckled.
“He’s got a lot on his plate,” Anubis said.
“True, we all do. Smith, keep Val out of the public’s eye. Video, picture, or television. You copy?” Smoke’s words sounded more like an order than a request.
“I understand,” Smith acknowledged. “I’ll do as you ask, but I don’t work for Guardian any longer.” He glanced up at Val and shrugged. “My employment ended when Mrs. Henshaw passed.”
“According to our records, you’re on the payroll,” CCS replied.
Smith’s eyes dropped to the floor, and he replied, “I assumed that was a mistake.”
“No. I knew we’d find a place for you. I made that call,” Smoke answered. “Charley and I have your six, man. You sure as hell had ours when we needed it. Now, do us a solid and make sure Val is out of the conversation you have with any law enforcement entity, will you?”
“Need I remind you that I can take care of myself? I am not a fainting flower.” Sweet sarcasm dripped from her words.
“Yeah, yeah, but having the big guy watching your six will only make things easier. Smith, that device is neutralized. You explain to whatever police entity boards that plane about the need to keep those wires apart.”
“I was here. I understand.” Smith looked at her as they felt the plane bank into a turn.
“We’re turning,” Val said to the phone.
Anubis answered the unspoken question. “You’ve been cleared for an emergency landing at Heathrow.”
“How do you know that?” Smith asked.
There was a laugh at the other end of the line, then Smoke answered, “Smith, if you learn anything about us today, it’s that Guardian has connections.”
Smith’s gaze shifted to the front of the cabin. “It would seem.”
Val sighed. “We’re going to get ready for landing. I’ll call when I can.”