Twenty-two hours later
The small private jet lands on the narrow runway with barely a bump as the wheels touch the paved ground. I, however, feel that thump as if it’s a f*****g earthquake, rattling my entire being. More than three thousand miles separate me and my tiger cub now.
Good.
I rise from my seat and grab the bag with my equipment from the custom-modified luggage compartment. The long case with my sniper rifle is lying across the seat in front of mine.
“When do you want me to come get you?” the pilot asks over his shoulder.
“Ten days. Same time.” I open the cabin door and unlatch the airstairs, letting them expand. “Where’s the vehicle?”
“Up ahead and to the left of the runway, hidden in the bushes.” He points through the cockpit windshield. “The key is in the ignition.”
I
