The food had filled Malcolm with new life. He hadn’t realized how much energy he had spent before he allowed himself a
chance to replenish his strength. Normally he took much better care of his diet, but with the hunt for his daughter in full force, food was the last thing on his mind. Besides Claire, there was only one other person occupying his brain: Victoria.
He sat there, staring at the young reporter as she took her final bites of her salad. Each of her movements was filled with grace and balance. She acted and spoke like a warrior princess, but he knew there was a soft core underneath that hard-as-nails exterior.
“What did she mean?” she asked, looking up from her empty plate.
“Pardon?” he asked in a distracted tone.
“That customs agent, Marla,” she explained. “She said she knew about your past and seemed pretty convinced you were some kind of criminal.
What did she mean?”
He sighed, looking away as he considered his options. He had a feeling that even if he lied, Victoria would eventually uncover the truth. It was an embarrassing part of his life that he did not like to revisit. “She meant I was a drug dealer in my past. So to speak.”
“Wow,” she said in surprise. “You gave me a straight answer.”
He looked at her and chuckled. “Is that more shocking than the answer itself?”
She nodded, a smile forming on her lips as she said, “Of course, Mr. Illusive man,” she teased. “Tell me what happened? I promise I won’t make a story out of it.”
He looked at her for a moment, folding his hands in front of him. “Things were tough when I was younger. I had a scholarship to go to
Harvard, but no money to pay for books, living expenses or anything.” “So you broke bad?” she asked inquisitively.
“Not exactly. I had to work full-time while taking a full course load, and my batteries were always on empty. I wondered to myself: could there be a better way to stay awake?” He paused, looking at her to make sure she was paying attention. “So, I hunted around the campus until I found a brilliant young chemist. I asked him to help me create a drug that would keep me awake, something that wouldn’t kill me like copious amounts of caffeine and energy drinks.”
“So what happened?” she asked, on the edge of her seat.
“It worked. Far better than expected,” Malcolm continued. “He was doing research for his doctorate about natural stimulants, and was able to come up with something amazing. Afterwards I told him that we needed to sell it-and we did. He always preferred to work in the lab, behind the scenes, but I was the one who moved our product. ”
“So you were a drug dealer,” she mused out loud, “of sorts. I bet you made a killing.”
“More than you realize,” he said as a broad grin formed on his lips. “A bunch of rich college kids who need pick-me-ups, energy for finals, or whatever. Thousands of them all willing to pay top dollar-and we created new products all the time. It was a huge market that we tapped into.”
“That sounds genius. How did you make sure the products were safe?
Or did you not care?” she asked with a raised brow.
He looked slightly offended as he leaned back in his seat. “I was the test subject for all the products. I know it’s not perfect, but we couldn’t afford legitimate clinical trials. I would try to make sure the products were safe by using them myself for an extended period of time before we sold them. We also made sure that people understood not to exceed safe doses.”
“Wow,” she said in genuine awe. “That’s actually really admirable.”
He looked at her for a long moment, clicking his tongue gently against the roof of his mouth. “So no issues about me breaking the law?”
“It hardly sounds like law breaking to me. It sounds like you were more careful in college than some FDA regulations are today. So I guess this is when Cage Pharmaceuticals was born.”
“Black-Cage Pharmaceuticals,” he said sadly.
“What?” she asked in confusion. “When was that ever the company name?”
“Before it was a company. My partner and I used our names on the letterhead. Dominic Black and Malcolm Cage. They fit well together, don’t they?” he asked with a light, sarcastic chuckle before going on. “We were just a small startup back then, but I wanted more. I became the face and name for our brand, and hunted down interested investors who wanted to get in on the ground floor. With our research and the evidence to back it up, we were worth millions.” He looked out of the window to distract himself from the bad memory. “Of course, I wanted to go public and he didn’t. It was his art, and we fought about it for years.”
“I take it this story doesn’t have a happy ending,” she said sadly, moving over to take a seat next to him.
“I’m not sure, to tell you the truth,” he said softly. “Dominic is still my partner, but we barely get a chance to work together anymore. Sometimes, Friday nights at the club is the most we see of each other, and that’s a bit disappointing. He’s always been a really good friend. Before we went public, I found out that Elizabeth was pregnant. Dominic sold me most of his shares, and I went from poor orphan to millionaire almost overnight. I thought things were going to be okay after that.”
“They will be, Malcolm,” she said reassuringly. She touched his face gently, brushing the tips of her fingers against his skin. “We’re going to find Claire, and you’re going to be a father she can be proud of.”
“You have a bad habit of saying the best possible thing at the best possible time,” Malcolm teased. He pressed her hand against his lips, leaving a small trail of kisses across her knuckles.
“It’s a gift,” she said teasingly. “I think you need more wine.”
“That sounds…” he cut himself off as a huge shockwave ripped through the plane. It felt like it was falling apart, and he looked out the window to see if there was any damage to the engine. His jaw tightened as he saw smoke pouring out of the plane. The entire wing was aflame.
“What the hell was that?” she asked in alarm, as she looked out, also seeing the blaze outside. “Oh my god.”
A piece of the wing broke off and began flying toward the seat the two of them were sharing
“Get down!” he shouted as he pulled Victoria away from the window.
The horrifying sound of shattering glass at several thousand feet above the ground echoed throughout the cabin. Malcolm felt the air rush out of the plane, threatening to drag him and Victoria out of the penny sized hole.
“Malcolm!” Victoria cried as the entire side of the wall was ripped away in an instant.
He held onto the bottom of a chair with all of his strength, his other arm holding Victoria close. “Climb past me. Strap yourself into a seat on the other side,” he shouted over the roaring of the damaged plane.
“What about you?” she cried out.
“I’m going to get us both a parachute from upstairs,” he shouted.
“We’re jumping!”
“I’m coming with you,” she responded.
“No, you are not,” he said stubbornly.
“It’ll be easier to move through the cabin if we’re steadying each other.
Don’t be a hero right now, Malcolm,” she warned him over the noise.
He knew she was right, and he had no time to argue. He could already feel his grip beginning to slip. Warm blood trickled down his arm; he was cut by a bit of flying debris. “Fine. On the count of three, we stand up and walk to the stairs. We’ll seal the door to make it easier to move around once we’re up there.”
“Alright! One,” she shouted over the deafening noise. She stood up slowly, supporting Malcolm as she moved.
“Two,” he continued the countdown, still holding onto her and a seat for support.
“Three!” she shouted the final number and with a mighty step, took them closer toward the upper deck.
They struggled against the winds that were determined to throw them into oblivion. Malcolm felt his legs burn in agony with every step. It felt like a freight train was smacking him full force with each passing second. A chair in the back was ripped from the bolts that kept it in place, and it flew toward the pair.
“Watch out!” Victoria cried, shoving Malcolm down and diving onto him.
The chair narrowly missed them as it crashed into the cabin wall, tearing apart the plane even more.
“Now isn’t the time for you to take advantage of me, my treasure,” he said slyly.
“Malcolm,” she said irritably, smacking him on the arm. “Just shut up and walk.” She grunted as she stood up, grabbing onto something to steady herself.
“Ladies first.” He grinned as he lifted himself off the ground and walked slowly through the narrow passageway.
The chair tearing out even more of the plane actually made it easier for them to move. The air in the cabin had already been vacuumed out, and pressure had become more stable. It took what felt like hours to finally get to the narrow staircase that led to the upper deck. They struggled with each step, until they finally reached the door that separated the two levels.
Malcolm pushed it open and pulled Victoria through quickly before slamming it shut and pressure locking it. At once they felt the deadly vacuum die out, but could still feel the plane rapidly descending.
“Let’s get the chutes and get the hell off this thing,” he said quickly, looking toward the cockpit. “Let me just go make sure that Miles and Jason made it off okay.”
“After you, champ. It’s my turn to stare at the goods,” she said, a nervous chuckle escaping her throat.
“Stare away,” he said as if they weren’t about to crash from forty thousand feet in the air. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and turned on his heel toward the cockpit. It was much easier to move in the sealed upper deck, and he easily made it to the end of the plane.
As he was about to reach for the door, it swung open and out came Jason, a large black man wearing a white pilot uniform. He had a gun in his hand and opened fire without warning. Malcolm saw him at the last moment and grabbed the gun, pointing the firearm away. The bullet ricocheted off a metal panel behind the two men, luckily not piercing the hull of the plane.
“Malcolm!” Victoria shouted from behind them.
“Victoria, get down,” Malcolm shouted in rage. “What the fuck are you doing, Jason?”
“I’m sorry, boss. But I have a family,” the large man said as he struggled against Malcolm.
“I can protect them. Jason, listen to me,” Malcolm cried out as he disarmed the gun from Jason, kicking him away with his powerful leg. He turned the barrel of the gun around, turning it on his co-pilot. “What happened to Miles?”
“Look for yourself,” he said as he inclined his head to the seat next to him.
Miles lay in a bloody mess in the pilot’s chair. His brains were splattered across the windshield, and Malcolm clearly saw the large caliber gunshot wound to the back of Miles’ head.
“That’s a cowardly way to kill someone, Jason,” Malcolm said in anger.
“At least be a man and kill them face to face.”
“He was my friend,” Jason cried out, tears pouring down his face.
“I’m disappointed in you,” Malcolm said with a sad sigh. He tossed away the gun and looked at Jason with narrowed, deadly eyes. “You should have come to me, I could have protected you.”
“There’s no protecting me from him, even you know that. I do what I have to in order to protect my family,” he shouted in agony.
“Well, you better stand up or get out of my way. I’m getting myself and Victoria off this plane,” Malcolm responded coldly.
“Good luck. Only one chute left, and I’m wearing it,” Jason said through gritted teeth.
“Then I’ll just have to take it off you,” Malcolm said and took a step back into a ready stance. “The only way you’re getting off this plane is over my dead body, and you don’t have your little toy anymore.”
Malcolm watched in slow motion as a man he considered a friend was attacking him, intent on killing him. His body reacted without hesitation, years of martial training all coming together in a split second.
Jason swung wildly at him, and Malcolm caught his arm easily, breaking it at the elbow. The large man cried out in horror as his bone ripped through his skin. Without hesitation, Malcolm stepped back while keeping hold of the broken arm. It sent Jason to his knees and Malcolm quickly wrapped his hands around Jason’s head.
“Malcolm, don’t!” Victoria screamed.
It was too late.
Malcolm twisted sharply and felt the crunch of his friend’s neck through the tips of his fingers. The heavy man went limp in his arms and Malcolm coldly unstrapped the parachute from his body, slipping it off his shoulders.
“Oh my god, Malcolm,” Victoria said in a heavy voice. “That’s the only chute left?”
Malcolm admired the way she was handling herself right now, even after witnessing his brutality. He nodded and handed it to her. “Take it and get the fuck off this plane,” he ordered. His tone was final and absolute.