Authors: Carolyn McCray
Lopez put his hand over Rebecca
’
s.
“
So
,
little missy
,
if you aren
’
t too busy questioning our dedication, would you like to help me steal a plane?
”
These men might not wear Brandt
’
s ring on their finger like she did, but they were equally bound to him. Having no other way to apologize, Rebecca just threw her sweaty, grimy, torn wedding
-
dressed self into Ricky
’
s arms.
He laughed, picking her up, swinging her around
,
so she was pointed in the direction of the private plane hang
a
r.
“
That
’
s more like it.
”
* * *
Brandt felt his body slosh over. Actually
,
not slosh. There was no water
,
yet that
’
s what it felt like. Had someone replaced his muscles with lumpy oatmeal? Or Jell-O, maybe Jell-O. Whatever the hell it was, it wasn
’
t responding to his mind
’
s repeated, urgent request to get up.
Now
.
The best Brandt could manage was to crack open his eyelids. He was on some kind of air cargo plane. Not US military. It felt Italian in manufacture. Although his brain was about a hundred times more functional than his muscles, he wasn
’
t about to ask it to come up with the exact make and model. Besides, it didn
’
t matter. The Disciples probably stole it from a maintenance yard or plane graveyard making the transport nearly impossible to trace.
His limited, ground level vision swept the area in front of him. Pairs upon pairs of combat boots were lined up. A tactical team. No great surprise there either. The Disciples were transporting him from South Carolina to somewhere
not
in South Carolina.
Even if he had full, or even minimal use of his limbs, he probably couldn
’
t figure that out. Not without one hell of a fight ending in a huge body count. One of those probably being his.
No, instead
,
he needed to concentrate on his tooth.
Closing his eyes and marshaling every reserve he had left, which wasn
’
t much, Brandt tried to clench his jaw. The best he got was his incisors barely grazing each other. That was not going to do.
Brandt clearly remembered the briefing by the scientists. They were so giddy.
“
All you have to do is chew,
”
they said
,
nearly giggling.
It sounded so fucking simple. Chew or
,
more appropriate in Brandt
’
s case, grind your teeth
,
and the motion fueled the transmitter. So simple.
So not happening.
“
Just ten good chews and the activated transmitter will send out a burst with your coordinates.
”
Ten good chews. Who couldn
’
t chew ten times? Apparently Brandt. Plus
,
come to think of it
,
what about i
f
you had a ball gag in your mouth? How could you chew then?
Yeah, those were two scenarios the squints hadn
’
t thought of.
Knowing that his life depended on his ability to masticate, Brandt bit down harder. He nicked the side of his tongue
,
but who cared? Pain shot up from the broken shard of porcelain cap. Concentrating, Brandt bit down again and again and again. At least ten times, but nothing.
The first time he
’
d activated the tracker, the damn thing had given him a little jolt in the gum. Now nothing.
Ten chew
s
his ass.
Clearly
,
that had been an optimistic number.
Taking in a slow, deep breath, Brandt prepared for another round of overriding a massive paralytic.
He could only hope someone was watching on the other end.
* * *
Davidson allowed the whine of the plane
’
s engines to soothe his jangled joints. The last few hours had not been kind to any of them. This was the fourth plane they had lifted
,
and Lopez was having a harder and harder time staying clear of any civilian or military
’
s radar.
But they needed to stay close to Charleston. To strike out in any one direction could cost them hours later if Brandt had been taken in the opposite direction. So they had stayed as close to the church as they could. However
,
word had clearly gone out that their team was AWOL. The Pentagon was probably spending as much time tracking down
them
as they were Brandt.
No one was taking the waiting harder than Rebecca. She sat across the aisle from
Davidson
on
the twin-engine
prop
plane, her stained and tattered wedding dress a visible accounting of the hell they had all been through.
Her veil, the anchor of it so firmly tangled in her hair that the best they could do was cut off the shiny fabric
, no longer
flew in front of her face
.
H
owever
,
it looked like some sort of mutant white tulle creature growing from her head.
She had been such a beautiful bride, for all of about two minutes.
And this waiting wasn
’
t aging well on her. She bit at her manicure, ripping the polish off until she could chew at the nail itself. If she didn
’
t stop soon, she
’
d have nothing but bloody finger tips to show for it.
Finally
,
it appeared that she couldn
’
t wait any longer. She unlatched her safety belt and pushed herself between Lopez and his copilot, Talli.
“
We
’
ve got to do something,
”
she implored.
Equally frustrated
,
Lopez answered
.
“
Tell me what to do, Rebecca,
”
the corporal said
,
turning to her
,
“
a
nd I
’
ll do it.
Anything
.
”
Rebecca threw herself back into her seat
,
knowing that Lopez was right. There was absolutely nothing else to do but wait. She must have known that flying around in circles simply wasn
’
t Lopez
’
s style
,
either.
“
Wait,
”
Levont said
,
pushing the tracking monitor toward them
,
“
I think it
’
s pinging.
”
“
What do you mean
think
?
”
Lopez asked.
Davidson looked at the monitor. Rapidly
,
the screen was realigning itself
,
s
queezing the search grid down and down again.
“
Something definitely is happening
…
B
ut it
’
s not showing Brandt
’
s location.
”
Rebecca leaned over, her stubby veil brushing Talli
’
s
back.
“
Why is the screen doing that?
”
“
Doing what?
”
Lopez asked, clearly agitated that
,
at such a critical juncture
,
he still had to fly the plane.
Davidson watched as the map pulled in tighter and tighter
,
expanding the area covered to far beyond their search area. Then the screen took an abrupt leap to the right.
“
Oh my God,
”
Rebecca breathed out.
“
What
?
”
Lopez demanded.
“
He
’
s gotta be…
”
Levont started
,
then stalled.
The little light flashed brightly against the blank blue background.
“
Which way do I turn?
”
Lopez begged, glancing over his shoulder.
But given that the blip was coming from somewhere over the middle of the Atlantic Ocean
,
there would be no turning anywhere.
Davidson took the map from Levont, readjusted it so that Lopez could see the coordinates
,
then put the screen in front of the corporal.
His mouth opened
,
then closed as Rebecca sobbed quietly in her seat.
“
Well,
”
Lopez announced, starting his descent
,
“
g
uess we are just going to have to steal a bigger airplane.
”
* * *
Bunny sighed and crossed her arms, forcing the pout of all pouts onto her lips. But the guy across from her seemed to care less. Weird. That usually worked on most guys. Perhaps Lt. Daniel Prenner didn
’
t bat for her side. After the repe
al
of
“
Don
’
t ask, don
’
t tell,
”
it was kind of hard to know.
“
Brenda,
”
the man c
oax
ed.
“
It is
Bunny
,
”
she replied.
“
And I am telling you that you don
’
t have the clearance to
hear
my side of the story.
”
“
Corporal Lopez and the rest have gone AWOL after being ordered to stand down,
”
Prenner said as if that was going to surprise her.
“
You
’
ve got to know how much trouble they are in.
”
Really? After Moscow, Slovenia, and Jordan
,
she should be worried about Rebecca and the rest?
Please
. Running around the American countryside avoiding MPs was like eating breakfast
—
in bed. Which is kind of why she didn
’
t grab that repelling line from the helicopter.
She
’
d grown to love Rebecca like a sister and Brandt like a brother-in-law, but chasing
after
the Disciples? That was sheer crazy talk. Whenever the Disciples were involved
,
you needed to run away
—
as quickly as you could.
Prenner hit a key on his laptop that started cell
phone footage of her and Davidson
’
s kiss.
“
Clearly
,
you care for this man.
”
Bunny shrugged.
“
He
’
s grown on me.
”
Which wasn
’
t exactly true. There was something there
,
but between his aborted court martial, reinstatement
,
then five missions back
-
to
-
back
,
it had been a little hard for them to explore exactly the extent of that
“
something.
”
She closed the laptop.
“
Just get me my CIA handler.
”
Which was kind of weird to say. Her life had certainly taken a left turn
since
last year. During her graduate studies
,
the closest that she had come to interacting with the Central Intelligence Agency had been watching reruns of
Covert Affairs
.