The tallest one pointed sharply at Jamie and barked something in a language neither pilot understood. “Back!” Noah said quickly, raising both hands. “We’re not armed.” One of the pirates held a rope. Another grabbed Noah and shoved him back into the seat. “Sit!” the man shouted, his voice rough, the accent heavy. “No noise. No trouble. You live.”
Jamie didn’t move fast enough. The tall pirate stepped forward and jammed a finger into his chest. “You quiet,” he growled in broken English. “Or we make you quiet.” They tied both of them up—hands behind their backs, wrists pressed tight. The ropes were rough, burning the skin. Jamie winced, trying to twist away, but the knot only tightened.