Chapter Forty Two
Irene sat with her bum in the damp leaves for a full five minutes before she dared raise her head. Her attention was focused back along the pathway but neither Jack Namath nor Hanz Skorjas were anywhere in sight. She looked back toward the airstrip and saw Toby dropping down from the cargo hold. Standing, she brushed dead leaves from her jeans, straightened the seams and stepped out onto the main pathway. Toby was concentrating on locking the plane’s hold, a heavy crescent wrench in his hand.
“How’s it going, Toby?”
Toby started at the sound of her voice. He straightened and pressed a hand into his lower back. “God, the creaks are catching up with me,” he said, stretching his spine. “Just going over the lug nuts. Don’t want you droppin’ a wheel on some diplomat’s head
