Katie sucked in air. “It was war,” she said.
“Shut up, little girl. What do you know?”
“What did you expect my grandfather to do?”
“I said, shut up!”
“Bastard!”
“Hush, Katie,” Reed begged her. “Leave her out of this whoever you are.”
“The name is Spiller. Karl Spiller.”
“OK, Spiller, get to the point. What the hell’s your beef?”
“I am getting in the cockpit, Reed, and we are going for a little ride,” he said with conviction, the barrel still pointed towards Reed. “Any warning and you get it.”
“You’ve made that very clear, pal.”
“Now, let us go. And you,” Spiller said to the girl, “you stay right where you are until we are in the air. Better yet, come out to the door where I can see you after. If I see you move, your grandpa fighter pilot is dead. I will be watching right up until
