by Rachel Lee
“It’s your show,” he said levelly. “Just get it through your head that it includes me.”
She could live with that, Andrea thought. “Okay. Nick, you go ahead to the left. The Colonel and I will come up along on the right. Let’s move out.”
Chapter 15
Andrea crouched, keeping low, and moved swiftly across the tarmac to the right of the parked planes. She hadn’t gone a dozen steps before a sense of déjà vu assailed her, reminding her of the night she’d been shot. Her neck and scalp prickled with unexpected fear, and her step faltered, but only for an instant. Nickerson was out there, depending on her to do her share, and he could be in serious danger without backup. There was no choice but to go on, and no point in thinking about what might happen.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, she was extremely grateful for Dare’s presence at her side. He moved stealthily, reminding her of a jungle cat, but when she inexplicably reached out for him, he paused and caught her hand in his.
What the hell am I doing in this business? The thought came out of nowhere, stunning her with its ferocity. She’d lied when she told Dare she’d never considered anything else, lied to him and to herself. Somewhere along the way all those other ideas had gotten lost in a burning desire to prove herself as an Air Force officer, but not even then had she imagined herself in this situation. Law Enforcement had never been her goal; it had been thrust on her, and she’d been making the best of it ever since.
Now here she was in the dead of night, stalking a killer with an M-16 in her hands. If she had an ounce of sense, she would be back in the guard shack directing this operation, the way a commander should. No, she had to get into it up to her neck. She always had and wondered if she always would.
“Andrea?” Dare’s whisper was barely audible, although he’d turned so that his mouth was only several inches from her ear. “Something wrong?”
Andrea drew a deep breath and managed to shake her head. An instant later she released his hand and crept forward again. A faint rustle told her that he was following her.
Approaching the third plane, she slowed up and crouched lower. With her teeth, she pulled the mitten off her right hand and let it fall to the tarmac. The liner glove wasn’t nearly as warm, but she had to be able to wrap her finger around the trigger. As quietly as she could, she released the safety and crept forward. The dog wouldn’t be able to smell anyone under the planes, not when the wind was blowing at a stinging thirty-five miles an hour, and the same wind would carry away any reasonably quiet sounds. Andrea didn’t want to chance it, though, for fear of scaring away their quarry. Those dogs were squirreled away on the sealed-up planes, but she had no idea whether their barking might be audible to someone on the tarmac below.
Seeing nothing around the undercarriage of the third plane, she edged forward to the fourth. Her heart was beating wildly now, and adrenaline soured and dried her mouth. Pausing, she pushed back her snorkel to widen her field of view. Now only a knit stocking cap covered her head, and the cold made her scalp ache.
A sudden groan and clatter to her left brought her swinging sharply around, and she peered intently into the shadow of the bomber. Lord, it was dark under there. Turning, she sought Dare.
“Did you hear it?” she barely whispered.
He nodded. “Nick.”
That was what she thought, too. Dare gestured with his hands, indicating that if she moved to the left, toward the sound, he would swing around from the right and try to come up from the rear. Andrea nodded her agreement.
Licking her cold lips, she changed direction, creeping toward the bomber’s rear wheels. Those tires were big, big enough to hide a crouched man easily. And she was exposed, mercilessly exposed. Cautiously, she eased into the protection of the big plane’s shadow. Maybe the dog in the fuselage above her had heard the clatter, too. Maybe he was even now alerting his handler, who was under orders to immediately radio for backup. Straining her ears, she couldn’t hear a thing except the ceaseless wind and her own ragged breathing.
She approached the bomber’s right rear tires from the outside, then edged around them and nearly tripped over Nickerson’s crumpled form. Dropping immediately to one knee, rifle cradled in her left arm, she shook him.
“Nick?” she whispered, and was relieved when she heard a faint moan. Reaching under his head, she made sure his cheek wasn’t touching the frozen pavement. He needed help, but he would have to wait a few minutes.
Her eyes zeroed in on the other set of rear tires. There was only one place the intruder could be now, otherwise she would have seen his shadow as he ran in one direction or another. But between her and the concealment of the other tires, there was only open space. No way could she simply cross it.
She would have to brazen it out.
“I know you’re over there, Halliday. Come on out. You won’t get out of here.”
There was no response.
“The perimeter’s been sealed, Halliday. We know what you’re up to. You can’t run far enough.”
A shot cracked on the wind, and chips of tarmac flew up at Andrea’s face.
“Damn it!” she swore, and threw herself protectively across Nickerson.
Dare’s voice suddenly cut through the night. “She’s not alone, Halliday. Put your hands up and come out.”
Dear God, don’t let him be exposed, Andrea prayed as she huddled over Nickerson. Lifting her head, she looked in the direction Dare’s voice had come from and saw his bulky shape striding slowly, almost casually, across the tarmac and into the plane’s shadow. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Oh, my God.” He couldn’t have made a better target of himself, his shape clearly silhouetted against the background light of the vapor lamps.
Another shot rang out, and this time the bullet smacked the pavement in front of Dare. His step never faltered.
“I’m the one you want, Halliday,” he called out. “Come on out and fight. I’m not even armed.”
Halliday was going to kill him! The certainty settled in Andrea’s stomach like a cold lump of lead. Grabbing her rifle, she waited for Dare to speak again.
“Come on,” he said. “This is what you really want. You really want to slug it out with me, not with the whole Air Force. Well, I’m here, Halliday. Here’s your chance.”
There was no way Halliday could watch both herself and Dare and keep himself concealed from them both at the same time, she figured. Those tires were just too big. Resting her rifle on her forearms, she began to crawl forward on her stomach.
“Don’t move another step, MacLendon!”
It was Halliday, all right. Andrea recognized his frightened voice.
“Why not?” Dare asked almost pleasantly. “You want to have it out with me. Well, you can’t do it from behind those tires. Come out and face me. We can talk about what’s bugging you.”
“You killed my brother!”
So that was it. Andrea’s stomach lurched sickeningly, and she crawled faster. From the sound of Halliday’s voice, he was wired on fear and anger. There was no telling what he would do. Damn Dare for sticking his nose into this.
“Tell me about your brother, Halliday,” Dare suggested, halting and standing with his hands in plain sight. “I don’t remember your brother.”
He was buying time, Andrea realized. He was buying time for her to reach Halliday. Ignoring the frozen ache of her ears and nose, ignoring the way her muscles ached from her unaccustomed crawl, she hurried toward those tires.
“He served with you. He was just a kid.”
“I don’t remember him,” Dare insisted. “I never knew a Halliday.”
“Sure you did,” Halliday said on a sobbing laugh. “I figured you’d forget him. No reason the big pilot should remember a kid in his ground crew.”
Oh, God, Andrea thought sickly. Six more feet. Just six more feet and she could come around behind Halliday.
“Tell me what happened,” Dare said gently. “Tell me about it. There’s no point in killing me until I know what I�
��m dying for, right?”
“You sent him out into a firefight. You sent him out to carry some stupid message.”
“Oh. I remember him,” Dare replied slowly. “Only you got it wrong, Halliday. The firefight broke out after I sent him with the messages. He got caught in the first salvo.”
“You’re lying!”
Andrea reached the base of the tires and eased up cautiously to her feet.
“I’m not lying,” Dare said calmly. “I remember very distinctly that I sent him before the fight broke out. There was no rush. He could have waited until morning for all I cared, but he was young and eager to please. Thirty seconds after he walked out the door, the bombardment started. I didn’t send him into it.”
Andrea whipped around the tires and shoved the barrel of her rifle into Halliday’s back.
“Drop it, Halliday,” she said coldly. “Slowly, very slowly, put your hands on your head.”
But he turned and pointed his pistol straight at Andrea. Even in the dark she could see the wildness in his eyes. He’d cracked. He’d cracked badly.
“You don’t have the guts to shoot me,” he said flatly.
He was right, Andrea realized with a sick sense of horror. She couldn’t shoot him. But she couldn’t let him know that.
“It sure would be messy,” she said harshly. “Pieces of you would scatter all over the place. And you’d better not pull that trigger, because my finger’s on this trigger and the rifle’s on automatic. Have you ever seen what an M-16 can do to a man?”
“Stand-off, Captain?” Halliday asked, and laughed wildly.
But it wasn’t, not quite. Beneath her layers of winter clothing, Andrea’s muscles tensed, and she eased her finger from the trigger. Suddenly, without any warning at all, she swept the barrel of the rifle around and knocked the pistol from Halliday’s hand.
A yelp of surprise barely escaped his lips before a dark shape hurtled out of the night and knocked Halliday to the ground.
“Got any cuffs, Andrea?” Dare asked with a grunt as he wrestled Halliday onto his face and pulled his arms up behind his back.
“Yes, sir! Somewhere under all these clothes.”
“Use mine, skipper,” said Nickerson.
Whirling, Andrea let out a happy cry as she saw Nickerson sagging against a tire but on his own feet. “Nick! Are you okay?”
“One hell of a headache, ma’am, but I’ve had worse.”
“I’m sure,” Andrea said.
“Damn it, Andrea,” Dare said breathlessly. “The cuffs! Give me the damn cuffs. This guy won’t quit.”
Nick handed Andrea the cuffs that dangled from his hand.
Yanking off her other mitten, Andrea knelt beside Dare and the writhing Halliday. Together they managed to get the handcuffs on him, and then Halliday grew instantly, surprisingly still. The fight was gone from him.
Andrea’s earlobes ached so sharply that she rubbed them and almost groaned from the pain. Tugging up her hood with one hand, she pulled the radio from her belt with the other and called for backup.
“I feel like such a jerk,” Nick said. “I can’t believe I let him get to me like that. I should have known he’d be hiding there.”
“Things happen,” Dare remarked, rotating the shoulder he’d bruised in his flying tackle of Halliday. “Worse things could have happened.” Permanently engraved on his mind was a stark snapshot of Halliday’s pistol aimed right at Andrea’s stomach. Adrenaline-induced nausea churned in him. “Burke, if you ever go off half-cocked like this again, I’m going to hang your hide out to dry.”
“Half-cocked!” Andrea leapt to her feet, still super-charged on her own adrenaline. “I did not go off half-cocked!”
“You sure as hell did!” His stomach kept sinking at the thought of what might have happened to her, and adrenaline was making him act like a damn fool, but he didn’t care. This woman had scared the wits out of him. “Do you think you’re supersoldier? You and Nickerson should never have come out here alone to deal with an intruder who was probably armed and dangerous. You should have waited for backup.”
“If I’d waited for backup, he might have gotten away! There was no time—”
“There were two guys in the guard shack you could have taken with you.”
“So write me up!” Andrea said hotly, glaring at him. How dare he!
“I just may. You scared me out of ten years of life! I don’t know whether to shake you or—”
Nickerson cleared his throat noisily. “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, ma’am, but there are two trucks headed this way and more comin’. These fellows might not understand your, uh, disagreement the way I do.”
Andrea clamped her teeth together, but she couldn’t resist snapping, “And I told you not to get in my way, but you had to pull rank. You could have been killed.” That thought scared her half to death.
“So could you,” Dare growled back, keeping his voice low. “It’s a damn good thing I came with you. And who’s the ranking officer here, anyway?”
“I told you,” Andrea murmured too sweetly, “that I couldn’t kiss you at night and act like it never happened the next day. If you think I’m going to kiss your—”
“Skipper,” Nick interrupted quickly, “someone might hear.”
This time Andrea sealed her teeth with an audible click, and she took satisfaction in hearing Dare grind his. They were both acting like irrational idiots, some objective corner of her mind noted. It was the adrenaline, of course, but she was too incensed to care.
In midafternoon, when the first rush of details and paperwork had been cleared out of the way, Andrea returned to the BOQ to clean herself up before her meeting with Dare. She was sure he’d been handling his end of things just fine all day, since he knew everything anyway, but a phone call at noon had informed her that “The Colonel expects Captain Burke in his office at 1530 to deliver her report.”
Standing under the needle spray of the shower, Andrea battled bone-numbing fatigue and promised herself that just as soon as this meeting was over, she was coming back here to sleep straight through until tomorrow morning. Dolan could have the command and all the joys that went with it.
Time for another haircut, she thought as she dried her hair in front of the bathroom mirror. And suddenly, from out of nowhere, came a memory of the long, long hair her father had never allowed her to cut. It had fallen below her hips, and she had always caught it back in an impatient ponytail to keep it out of her way. How fiercely glad she’d been when she arrived at the Academy and had it all cut off. Now she wondered, actually wondered, if she should let it grow out.
“You’re crazy from lack of sleep, Burke,” she told her reflection sourly. She didn’t have time to mess with her hair.
Dressed in a pressed, creased and impeccable uniform, she presented herself in Dare’s office promptly at three-thirty. Her weary eyes devoured every detail of his appearance, from the lock of hair that tumbled onto his forehead to the broad shoulders that stretched his uniform shirt. No two ways about it, the man looked good enough to eat.
Placing the typed report on his desk, Andrea sank into the chair he indicated.
“I’ve talked to AAC HQ,” he said without preamble. “You’re the hero of the day, Andrea.”
“Me?” She kept remembering how her goose would probably have been royally cooked if Dare hadn’t followed her out onto the tarmac.
“You. I know I sounded off this morning, but I’m convinced you would have handled matters even if I hadn’t involved myself.”
Andrea blinked. “That’s very generous of you, sir.”
“Just the truth.” She looked exhausted, he thought, and troubled. What was troubling her? “I wanted to warn you that they’re sending out a reporter from the Air Force Times to do a feature story on you. He’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Oh, no.” She was horrified. “Do I have to?”
“I’m afraid so, Andrea.” He smiled faintly. “They just can’t pass up the opportunity to show you off.
If you ask me, they’ll want a picture of you in battle dress and toting your rifle.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Why? I saw the way you handled your gun. Better than most officers I’ve been in combat with.”
“But I’m not better,” she burst out.
Astonished, Dare sat back in his chair and studied her intently. “What makes you think that?”
“I’m a sham,” she said tensely, and leapt up from her chair. “The only question is what I’m going to do about it.”
Dare watched her pace, a frown on his face. “Tell me about it.”
“Last night Halliday pointed a loaded gun at me and told me I didn’t have the guts to shoot him. And he was right. I didn’t.”
Dare rubbed his chin, never taking his eyes from her. “I don’t think,” he said carefully, “that it takes guts to shoot somebody.”
“Whatever it takes, I haven’t got it.”
“You did once before, not that I’m saying that’s a good thing.”
“And that’s why I can’t do it again. If I’d done more than graze him that first time, I don’t know if I could live with myself. That’s been hard enough to deal with. All I know is that I can’t do it again. What kind of soldier does that make me?”
A wounded one, Dare thought, watching her. Nor did he feel he should be arguing in favor of shooting anyone. “You don’t think the circumstances had something to do with it?” he asked after a few moments. “After all, you were face-to-face with the guy, and he’s somebody you’ve known for a couple of years. I don’t think most of us would have been able to pull the trigger under those circumstances.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Coming to a halt, Andrea wrapped her arms around her waist and bowed her head. “I’m not sure I want to be able to pull the trigger. I told you that once before. I guess I’ve been ignoring the question, but I think it’s time to face it. I’ve got to decide whether I have what it takes to be a soldier, or even if I want to have what it takes. It’s not a game anymore, Dare. Twice, now, it’s been real.”
