door open slightly. The Royal Bengal was momentarily illuminated in the sliver of light—it was larger even than Jack had first thought. Its left forepaw was extended to brace it against the jolting movement and its head was low, bobbing between its enormous shoulders. Its tongue came out, licked around its dark muzzle. Then the light winked out as Jack pulled the door closed.
The vehicle and the animal began to move at the same moment. Jack felt the vibration of the vehicle as it rolled over the tarmac. He could feel the presence of the tiger looming over him. He was, quite literally, between a rock and a hard place. If he escaped now he’d be right in the line of sight of the suits, who were undoubtedly on the lookout for him; but if he stayed where he was, he might become the tiger’s next meal. He knew that if the Royal Bengal decided to attack him he wouldn’t stand a chance against its jaws and raking talons.
Jack risked opening the door enough to see what was going on. At that moment, he heard voices raised in challenge and the vehicle ground to a stop. He saw the flap of a suit jacket, and then clearly one of the feds asking the driver what was in the crates.
By cracking the door a bit wider, he could make out the nose section of the InterGlobal plane. He was turned away from the tiger, but he felt its hot, panting breath, and he knew it had come halfway across the crate. And still it came on, its head lowered, its eyes glowing green.
Then he heard one of the suits say, “I don’t care about flight schedules, we need to check your cargo.”
That was his cue to leave. They’d see the lock off the crate door and be instantly on alert. Opening the door wider, he was about to leap out when he was brushed aside by the tiger’s immense body. He froze in shock to see its entire length stretched out as it bounded from its cage.
A frenzied shout from the driver brought Jack to his senses. Leaping from the flatbed, he sprinted around to the right of the vehicle. On the opposite side, the tiger was confronted by the two suits, one of whom had the presence of mind to pull his service pistol.
From behind him, Jack heard the driver screaming, “No, don’t shoot him! Don’t shoot!”
Jack, running full out, made the rolling ladder in seconds. Racing up it, he kicked it away with one leg as he stepped into the cockpit with the other. Then the navigator slammed the door shut behind him.
“We thought you weren’t going to make it,” the pilot said.
“What the hell was that?” the navigator said as he slid back into his seat.
“You don’t want to know,” Jack replied, as he buckled himself into the third seat.
The pilot was going through his last-minute checks. “We’re done loading, yes?”
“We’re good to go,” the navigator nodded.
The engines revved up as the pilot spoke to the tower. “Runway clear.”
Opening his window, the pilot had to yell at the member of the ground crew who was supposed to kick away the chocks but was mesmerized by the standoff between the men and the animal. Getting an all-clear wave, the pilot slammed his window shut and released the brakes.
The aircraft turned and began taxiing toward the head of the runway. The pilot brought them around until they were parallel, the plane came to a stop, then it commenced its run, its wheels propelling it faster and faster until it lifted off.
They were airborne.
Jack put his head back and closed his eyes, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through him. His heart was in his throat. The rank stench of the beast was still in his nostrils, the image of its lambent green eyes imprinted on the back of his eyelids, and he trembled with the sensation, both terrible and exhilarating, of the Royal Bengal brushing past him on its way to freedom—or death.
* * *
Dreaming, Jack fell through successive layers of deepening gloom, like a diver going deeper than ever before. As he fell into darkness, he saw below him glimmers
The vehicle and the animal began to move at the same moment. Jack felt the vibration of the vehicle as it rolled over the tarmac. He could feel the presence of the tiger looming over him. He was, quite literally, between a rock and a hard place. If he escaped now he’d be right in the line of sight of the suits, who were undoubtedly on the lookout for him; but if he stayed where he was, he might become the tiger’s next meal. He knew that if the Royal Bengal decided to attack him he wouldn’t stand a chance against its jaws and raking talons.
Jack risked opening the door enough to see what was going on. At that moment, he heard voices raised in challenge and the vehicle ground to a stop. He saw the flap of a suit jacket, and then clearly one of the feds asking the driver what was in the crates.
By cracking the door a bit wider, he could make out the nose section of the InterGlobal plane. He was turned away from the tiger, but he felt its hot, panting breath, and he knew it had come halfway across the crate. And still it came on, its head lowered, its eyes glowing green.
Then he heard one of the suits say, “I don’t care about flight schedules, we need to check your cargo.”
That was his cue to leave. They’d see the lock off the crate door and be instantly on alert. Opening the door wider, he was about to leap out when he was brushed aside by the tiger’s immense body. He froze in shock to see its entire length stretched out as it bounded from its cage.
A frenzied shout from the driver brought Jack to his senses. Leaping from the flatbed, he sprinted around to the right of the vehicle. On the opposite side, the tiger was confronted by the two suits, one of whom had the presence of mind to pull his service pistol.
From behind him, Jack heard the driver screaming, “No, don’t shoot him! Don’t shoot!”
Jack, running full out, made the rolling ladder in seconds. Racing up it, he kicked it away with one leg as he stepped into the cockpit with the other. Then the navigator slammed the door shut behind him.
“We thought you weren’t going to make it,” the pilot said.
“What the hell was that?” the navigator said as he slid back into his seat.
“You don’t want to know,” Jack replied, as he buckled himself into the third seat.
The pilot was going through his last-minute checks. “We’re done loading, yes?”
“We’re good to go,” the navigator nodded.
The engines revved up as the pilot spoke to the tower. “Runway clear.”
Opening his window, the pilot had to yell at the member of the ground crew who was supposed to kick away the chocks but was mesmerized by the standoff between the men and the animal. Getting an all-clear wave, the pilot slammed his window shut and released the brakes.
The aircraft turned and began taxiing toward the head of the runway. The pilot brought them around until they were parallel, the plane came to a stop, then it commenced its run, its wheels propelling it faster and faster until it lifted off.
They were airborne.
Jack put his head back and closed his eyes, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through him. His heart was in his throat. The rank stench of the beast was still in his nostrils, the image of its lambent green eyes imprinted on the back of his eyelids, and he trembled with the sensation, both terrible and exhilarating, of the Royal Bengal brushing past him on its way to freedom—or death.
* * *
Dreaming, Jack fell through successive layers of deepening gloom, like a diver going deeper than ever before. As he fell into darkness, he saw below him glimmers
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