The exhaustion of the last week of hunting pulled on Damien. He kept his eyes closed, letting him sink down into sleep. Damien, like every soldiers since the first man was press-ganged into some petty tyrant's army, had learned how to sleep anywhere. He dozed through the safety briefing as the plane taxied to the runway.

The roar of the engines as they powered up for takeoff pulled him out of sleep for a moment. He didn't open his eyes as the plane shot down the runway, pressing him back into his seat. The plane shook, the woman beside him gasped.

She's wearing Chanel perfume, he realized as the plane...