“Well done, Captain.” Dr. Simmons extended his hand. “Not only for saving Dr. McKenna, but getting us off the island.”
“You’re welcome,” Donovan lowered his head. From past experience he instinctively hated being the center of attention. Lauren looked up and their eyes met briefly. She nodded her approval at Dr. Simmons words.
“It was a group effort,” Donovan added. “I’m glad it all worked out. I am sorry about Victor, though. There wasn’t anything we could do for him.”
At the mention of Victor, everyone became silent.
“Can I get anyone anything?” Donovan said after an appropriate interval.
“I could use a slug of bourbon.” Dr. Simmons studied his hand as if to see if it were still shaking.
“Sorry, we don’t have any alcohol on board,” Donovan explained, then added, “Though that directive might come under review.”
“What would you like me to do, sir?” Nicolas got to his feet and eyed the cockpit door.
Donovan couldn’t take his eyes from Lauren. “Why don’t you go up and keep Michael out of trouble? I’m going to stay back here for a while.”
“Yes sir. There are some dry clothes in the back if you want to change.” Nicolas sidestepped Donovan and hurried forward.
Donovan took a deep breath and made his way to Lauren. Her face broke out in a gentle smile; her eyes found his. He stood next to her and could see she was tinkering with her shattered computer. He couldn’t believe she could have lost a fellow scientist, nearly drowned, and could now fuss with a computer that had obviously been destroyed. All he found in her magical green eyes were more questions.
Lauren looked up, waiting for him to speak.
“I don’t think your computer is going to make it.” Donovan didn’t know what else to say. His mind was a blur of images. A million questions flew through his mind and he discarded every one of them. He eyed the lavatory at the rear of the plane and considered the promise of dry clothes.
“I know,” Lauren replied, and pushed the pieces away from her.
“Well…I was just taking a break, thought I’d change into some dry clothes. I’m glad you’re okay.” The tension between them had just gone off the chart. It felt like the temperature in the cabin had suddenly risen twenty degrees. He mentally cursed himself as he walked away from her. It served him right, he decided. Nothing more had happened today than running into an ex-girlfriend. Furious with himself for expecting more, he grabbed the spare flight suit and stormed into the lavatory.
Lauren leaned back against the seat and felt the first waver of emotions. She didn’t know what to do. She fought for control, staunchly refusing to unravel in the back of Donovan’s jet. Yet the guilt and remorse cascaded down and threatened to shatter her resolve. If she knew the right thing to do, she’d do it in a heartbeat. But she’d left him for valid reasons. Despite how wonderful he was on the surface, there were things about Donovan Nash that she couldn’t accept. He possessed a mysterious side she could never quite pin down. It was almost as if he were two different people. She thought back to the day she’d overheard the ominous message on his answering machine. Donovan had been in the kitchen. He must have thought she was out of earshot. Lauren had distinctly heard a woman’s voice, calling to confirm a day, a flight number, and a time for Donovan to meet Elizabeth. She was arriving at Dulles International airport. As if to confirm her worst fear, Donovan had quickly erased the message. More than anything, Lauren had wanted to block out what she’d heard, but couldn’t. The next day, she’d driven to the airport at the appropriate time. She’d spotted his Range Rover and waited. Across the parking lot, she finally saw Donovan—walking hand in hand with a beautiful blonde. The woman was pressed close to him, her face beaming. Lauren couldn’t miss the unmistakable flash of a wedding ring on her hand.
The drive back to Washington had been a blur of tears and anger. When she’d confronted him later, his face had drained of color. His shocked look told her everything she’d needed to know. It was obvious he’d been caught cheating on her. She knew in that instant that she could never stay with him. She’d chastised herself over and over for missing the obvious clues. The fact that they never went out much, or spent any time with his friends. How much he’d resisted any of her attempts to get him to attend public functions. His sterile apartment, which she’d chalked up to his being a bachelor, was obviously a safe house for his extramarital affairs. She’d fallen for a married man and hadn’t seen it coming until it was too late.
She’d already endured the first month of their breakup when she discovered that she was pregnant. More than anything she wanted the baby, but she didn’t want Donovan. It was an easy decision; the last thing she wanted was to break up his marriage. As she’d told herself a thousand times since then, she’d done the right thing. But if that were the case, why was her heart telling her something different right now?
Lauren heard the door to the lavatory open. She felt Donovan’s presence as he came up from behind her.
“Donovan?” She hesitated as he stopped and turned. She could see the flash of annoyance that crossed his face.
“Yes?” he managed politely, waiting impatiently for her to speak.
Lauren hadn’t expected him to act so distant. His blue eyes were cold and forbidding.
“I did want to thank you for everything you did today. You and Michael were wonderful.” She bit her lip as his expression remained icy.
“Just doing my job,” he said flatly, then turned to go.
As he walked the dozen steps to the flight deck, she wanted to call out to him. The silence between them threatened to choke her. Without looking back he opened the cockpit door, slipped inside, and carefully shut her out.
Lauren felt her eyes well with the first hint of tears. She lowered her head and tried to erase the scornful look Donovan had given her. She wasn’t sure what had set him off. What did he want from her? Whatever it was, Lauren was positive he’d be even angrier to discover he had a daughter. Lauren knew in her heart that what she had to tell him wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
She thought of Abigail and absently fingered her smashed computer, glad she’d had the presence of mind to grab her laptop from the wreckage. Lauren sniffed as she fought her emotions. At least she’d get a new computer, one without Cheerios stuffed into the printer port, compliments of Abigail. Lauren shook her head and smiled weakly at the memory. She turned the computer over to see her daughter’s handiwork. The smile vanished at the sight of the perfectly clean holes.
Lauren studied the printer connection. There was no way the Cheerios had magically removed themselves; Abigail had packed them hopelessly deep. Lauren hadn’t had time to have it repaired before she’d left. The first pinpricks of suspicion began to creep to the surface: this wasn’t her computer. It was in her computer bag. It was the same make and model. But it wasn’t hers—it couldn’t be. The image of the black boots flooded into her brain. Had someone swapped laptops? If she’d died back in the culvert, no one would have known. The implications rocked her as she mentally went through the classified information stored in her hard drive. Schematics of highly classified, miniature radar components were at the top of the list. The Pentagon had allowed her access to the systems for her hurricane research. She understood fully how guarded they were about the data; it was straight out of the latest hi-tech missile guidance platforms.
Lauren rubbed her arms at a sudden chill. She remembered her detailed orientation at the Defense Intelligence Agency. Her first week at DIA had focused on security. She glanced at the closed door that led to the cockpit. Last winter another breach of security had taken place in Russia…and it too, revolved around an Eco-Watch jet that Donovan Nash was piloting.
CHAPTER FIVE
The wheels of the Gulfstream kissed the concrete. Donovan ignored the sun-drenched September day, relieved to finally be home. After his disastrous journey to the cabin to try to talk with Lauren, he had returned to the cockpit. Michael had been
supportive, but finally Donovan had withdrawn and became lost in his thoughts, and he and Michael had flown the last hour in silence.
Donovan finished the appropriate after-landing checks. Eco-Watch’s facility was tucked into the far northwest corner of the sprawling Dulles International airport. The large complex housed not only the two Gulfstreams, but also a Bell 206 helicopter. The structure was comprised of a two-story office suite as well as a large maintenance area that wrapped around two sides of the main hangar. The facility had been modernized in the last two years. There was now room for a total of four Gulfstreams and the expected increase in staff. As always, they’d radioed ahead. The ground crew would be standing by to receive them.
“Wonder who that is?” Michael remarked as their hangar came into view.
Donovan saw the same helicopter Michael did. It didn’t look familiar. As they made the final turn into the ramp, the large blades on the mysterious helicopter swung into motion. Just to the side of the helicopter sat a U.S. Customs vehicle. It was standard procedure for Customs to meet any international flights.
“My guess is it’s here for our passengers,” Donovan studied the helicopter. “They’re sure gearing up for a quick departure.”
“You get the feeling that this mission is a little different from most? Usually the scientists aren’t treated like VIPs.”
Donovan agreed. He also knew the last minute call to retrieve Lauren and her team had come from the Pentagon. It was all very strange. As Michael swung the big jet around on the tarmac, Donovan scribbled down the registration number of the helicopter. Moments later, they shut down the two engines and Michael threw off his harness.
“I’ll get everyone off.” Michael slid out of the seat.
Donovan nodded at his friend—Michael had read his mind. All he wanted at this point was for Lauren to simply walk off the airplane and vanish. It was what she was good at. He continued securing the airplane, carefully going through each item on the lengthy checklist. Donovan tried to put her out of his thoughts as he waited for everyone to deplane. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Donovan wondered where she was going, who was waiting for her arrival. It was a lonely thought that there wasn’t anyone waiting for him. As he gathered up a three-ring notebook to log the flight time for the trip, he heard the cockpit door slowly open. Donovan didn’t look up as he continued to write, but in his peripheral vision he could see Lauren’s legs as she stood in the doorway. The silence was threatening to suffocate him. What was she waiting for? He finished writing and looked up, ready to face her, but she was gone.
Donovan leaned over and watched as she hurried across the tarmac to the Customs official. The agent waved her through and she went immediately to the helicopter. Donovan watched as she stopped and glanced up at the Gulfstream. He could see her clearly in the afternoon sunlight; his shoulders slumped at how beautiful she was. She offered him a sad smile and a hesitant wave, then ducked down and boarded the chopper. Moments later the helicopter lifted off and turned east. As the noise from the beating rotor slowly subsided, Donovan knew that as quickly as he’d found her, she’d vanished once again.
He shook off the weight of his sorrow, and walked out of the cockpit and down the airstairs. Aware that Michael was waiting for him, Donovan went in his direction.
“Sorry, buddy.” Michael offered a halfhearted smile.
Donovan nodded. A silent moment passed between the two friends.
“Hey, you want to come over for dinner?” Michael changed the subject. “Susan and the kids would love to see you. We were going to cook out tonight, nothing fancy.”
Donovan shook his head. He was tempted—Susan and Michael’s two young sons were the nearest thing to family Donovan had left. Patrick and Billy were a source of great joy. Billy, the youngest, was a hockey star. Though only ten years old, he was a force to be reckoned with on the ice. Patrick, the oldest, was truly a gifted athlete. He excelled at every sport, but his first love was baseball. Over the years, Donovan had spent more than a few pleasurable Saturday afternoons in the bleachers, rooting for Patrick’s team. He loved Michael’s family dearly, but tonight he felt like being alone.
“Or, I could call Susan.” Michael shifted his tone and gave Donovan a sly wink. “Tell her you and I are going out to get blind drunk. We did have a hell of a day.”
Donovan smiled at his friend, thankful for the concern. “I appreciate the invitation, but I’m fine. I have some work to finish here, then I’m going home. But I’ll take a rain check on dinner.”
“Whatever you want.” Michael fell in step beside Donovan as they walked toward the offices. “But you got to admit, the idea of going out drinking wasn’t bad. It is a Saturday night, and as you well know, there is an age-old tradition of intrepid aviators reveling until the wee hours. It’s more than a birthright, it’s a grave responsibility.”
Donovan was forced to smile at the seriousness of the declaration. Michael’s credo was always to leave them laughing. In the eight years they’d been flying together, he and Michael had closed their share of bars. The memories of their exploits were like a treasured family photo album.
“I think we’ve upheld that tradition a time or two.”
“We are perhaps the best that ever lived,” Michael replied quickly, his seriousness reaching a comical level. “But we can’t afford to lose our edge. All around us are up and coming young pilots, looking to unseat the kings. It’s one of the penalties of our immense talent.”
“You go on home,” Donovan tried to smile one more time. “Give Susan and the kids a hug for me. I’ll see you bright and early Monday. Enjoy what’s left of the weekend.”
“Call if you change your mind about dinner.” Michael hesitated a moment. “Or if you need anything—the door is always open.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. See you Monday.”
The ground crew had just finished easing the da Vinci into its space next to the Galileo. Across the polished floor of the immaculate hangar, Donovan spied the man he was looking for. Frank Moretti headed up the maintenance section of Eco-Watch. Frank was always in motion, a nervously energetic Italian. He stood no more than five foot five, his thin wiry frame capped by a bald head, though Frank combed a section of hair from left to right in a feeble effort to disguise the obvious. A toothpick always protruded from the side of his narrow mouth, bobbing up and down as he spoke. What Frank lacked in a physical presence, he more than made up for with his keen mechanical eye. Donovan had hired him away from a long career at Gulfstream Aerospace. He hadn’t come cheap, but when it came to the two modified G-IVs tucked in the hangar, Donovan was convinced there wasn’t a man alive who knew more about them than Frank. Each and every one of the Eco-Watch pilots trusted the man with his life.
“Frank,” Donovan called out as he walked closer. “You got a minute?”
Frank looked up from a table. He’d been studying a set of blueprints.
“What’s up?” A frown flashed across his already stern face. “You didn’t hurt my airplane, did you?”
“No, we didn’t hurt your plane. But I do need a favor.” Donovan wasn’t going to be the one to tell Frank about the empty drums in Bermuda, or how close they’d come to hitting them.
“Sure.” Frank took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his forehead. The afternoon sun was beginning to shine into the hangar. It was getting even warmer.
“That helicopter that met us. Any idea who it belonged to?”
Frank shook his head. “Not a clue. But you want me to find out right?”
“Only if you have the time. I’d also love to know where they were going.” Donovan was counting on Frank’s intimate knowledge of the area’s aviation community to pay off once again.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Frank replied, with a slight glimmer in his eye. “It was a new machine. A Bell 427. It has Pratt and Whitney turbines. I believe their tech rep owes me. Did you by chance catch the registration number?”
Donovan knew he was probably b
eing played. “It was N37808.” He had no doubt that Frank already knew the number, and that he’d also seen Lauren get into the helicopter. One of the drawbacks of working with a small intimate group was what Donovan described as the small town effect. Everyone seemed to know what everyone else was doing. Despite his best intentions, his past relationship with Lauren probably wasn’t a secret.
“Got it,” Frank nodded.
“Is everything going to be ready for Monday?” Donovan wanted to change the subject. He was also curious about the status of the Galileo. He and Michael were scheduled out early Monday morning for a high-altitude hurricane reconnaissance flight.
“Yeah. We’re almost there.” Frank gestured at the blueprints. “Though I’m convinced the wiring diagram for the new antenna array was drawn by chipmunks. But we’ll figure it out.”
“Like you always do.” Donovan glanced at his watch. He had no idea what he was going to do with what remained of his day. A part of him knew if he stopped moving, the weight of seeing Lauren would crash down around him.
“See you Monday.” Donovan knew he should let Frank get back to work.
“I’ll be here.” Frank nodded.
Donovan took the back stairs up to his office. It was quiet. All the doors down the carpeted hall were closed. He let himself in, switched on the light, and gently barricaded himself from the world. He opened the small refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. He screwed off the plastic cap and sent it flying across the room, where it bounced off the wall and rattled into the waste-basket. He ignored his desk and sat down on the sofa that lined one wall. He grabbed the remote control for the television and turned it over and over in his hand, debating whether to switch the set on or not. On the shelves he saw his books and the Gulfstream models. There were photographs on each wall, pictures of people and places. His favorite was a shot taken of every Eco-Watch employee gathered around both airplanes on the ramp. It was the day they’d taken delivery of the da Vinci. The excitement in the air had been electric. Donovan let his gaze wander to the photographs of him and Michael, a collage of memories taken all over the globe.
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