Licensed to Kill

Chapter 29

The absurd amount of turbulence on the flight to Spain didn't stop Dallas from ordering drink after sloshy drink. Somehow he managed to keep the majority of the alcohol off of his clothes, trying to time his sips in between the plane's jolts and gyrations.

While he slouched in his seat, tossing back one plastic cup after another, I tried my best to focus on him rather than the Scotch in his hand. It seemed that every time I spotted alcohol lately, my mouth suddenly went as dry as the Sahara, and I was dying of thirst for something strong and smooth – something that would dull the pain and ease the stress that this mission – this wild goose chase – had created. My scratchy throat was starting to become unbearable, and I was about to give in to the temptation to order a Heineken, at least. Maybe I could force myself to opt for beer instead of hard liquor, I thought.

"Hey." Matt nudged my upper arm with his elbow and shifted in his seat to face me. "Are you feeling alright, Tali?"

I was awkwardly sandwiched between Dallas and Matt on a plane that felt like it was riding a mechanical bull rather than flying. "Alright" was not exactly achievable at the moment.

Still, I shrugged, trying to downplay how shitty I was feeling. "I'm fine, Matt."

But he knew me better than that. He could always tell when I was bullshitting him, just like Dallas could, and sometimes I really hated that about them.

"I don't buy that for a second," he said quietly, trying to keep our conversation between just us two. "Why don't we go somewhere more private and talk?"

Dallas cleared his throat and we turned our attention to him. He was staring lazily down the aisle at the flight attendant who was handing out more drinks. My throat burned at the sight of more alcohol.

"Tali," Matt whispered again, nodding toward the back of the plane. "Come on."

He got up and gracelessly maneuvered passed Dallas and me, stopping in the walkway to wait for me.

Dallas's brows drew inward and the look he gave me said more than words could. I knew he didn't like Matt, but this was the first time it had crossed my mind that he didn't trust Matt.

"I'll be right back," I assured him, despite his silent protest, and I followed Matt to the back of the jet.

We managed to squeeze both our bodies into the tiny bathroom and pull the folding door shut. Once the door was locked, I realized just how tightly we were packed into the room. My nose was about an inch from touching Matt's chest, and our lower halves were squished together in the most uncomfortable way possible.

Matt let out an uneasy chuckle, looking down into my eyes. "This isn't exactly how I expected this to go..."

"I feel like a sardine packed in a teeny-weeny can," I agreed, trying to find my way around his body to sit up on the lavatory and give him room to stand comfortably.

When we finally reached a sufficient position, I blew out a heavy breath and wiped away the droplets of sweat that had gathered on my forehead. I hated being in tight spaces like this one and the damn motel vent system. I had always battled a certain amount of claustrophobia, though I'd never admitted it to my team or superiors. That was a disqualifying detail.

"Tell me what's bothering you, Tali," Matt spoke up, his voice gentle and full of concern as he leaned against the door with his arms folded. "Is it the alcohol? Is it the turbulence? What is it?"

I knew he was just trying to be a good, supportive friend, but damn, the questions made me want to explode! Matt didn't deserve to be hollered at, though. He'd done nothing wrong. I tried to keep my cool for his sake.