Dance Moms Bodyguard (7) Wedding Interrupted

Chapter 17 : Courier

Slava landed the single engine plane an hour later. She taxied off the runway, parked besides two light cargo planes, there a jeep and two motorcycles were already waiting.

She studied the group from the cockpit, two were in full tactical gear and two in motorcycle helmets and suits, all armed with semi automatics. She killed the engine, took one last check of her plane before making her exit.

Slava stepped onto the tarmac with her hands up, a surrender gesture. Two men from the jeep approached her, one instructed the bikers to search the plane.

She let the tactical man patting her down as she made assessment of the surrounding. It was a private air field with a double hangar, one of them parked a truck, two jeeps and two more motorcycles, judging by the outfit she estimated at least twenty strong.

The man found a pack of cigarette from her jacket pocket, and a revolver tucked to the small of her back. He raised the revolver to her face and smiled.

"Did you think we wouldn't find it?"

"Why do you think I brought a cheap one?" Slava answered.

"Nothing here!" one biker popped his head out of the plane and reported.

"Where is the money?" asked the tactical man.

"It's in the rear compartment." Slava answered. "May I put my hands down now?"

The man waved his gun. Slava lowered her hands and asked for her cigarette back, he handed it over.

"You should really loosen up. I'm just a courier." Slava took a cigarette to her lips.

"I don't trust anyone working for Siwanov."

"I supposed you want me to get into the jeep too?"

"I think you know how this is played."

Slava walked pass the two men and towards the jeep, lighting her cigarette, her hand protecting the fire from the wind. She went around the vehicle, putting herself behind the steel frame. She slipped a finger into the palm of her left glove, hooked out a device and pressed it.

Behind her, the plane exploded into a huge fireball, swallowing the two bikers into it's hot white flame, its shockwave knocked down the two who patted her.

Slava came out from her shielding, kicked one man in the face, knocking him unconscious. The other was raising his gun, but his wrist was caught in her grip, lost one round into the air, before Slava twisted his hand until the barrel pinned to his own chest.

"Where is he? How many men??"