Blaze of Glory (29 page)

Her
father
shrugged.
“It
was
the
only
way
I
could
think
of
to
get
him
to
take
himself
out
quickly
so
we
stood a
real
chance
of
getting
rid
of
this
thing.
Because
he
was
right.
The
notion
that
we
can
disable
something
like this
is
just
Hollywoodmovie
hype.”

Bobby
exhaled
long
and
slow
with
a
stillness
she’d
never
seen
before,
even
when
he’d
taken
down
Zazlov, which
worried
her
more
than
the
bomb.
“So,
Dr.
Lanier,
what
do
you
propose
we
do
to
keep
from
wiping out
the
city
as
well
as
ourselves?”

Her
father
started
walking
toward
Bobby,
passing
the
man
she
loved
a
lethal
briefcase
instead
of
a
bride.

“Well,
son,
you’re
going
to
need
to
fly
this
dirty
nuke
out
as
far
as
you
can
over
the
ocean
and
dump
it
into the
water.
According
to
the
timer,
you’ve
got
about
twentyseven
minutes
to
play
with.” CHAPTER
TWENTYTWO

“HOLY
SHIT.”Bobby
held
the
open
briefcase
full
of
nuclear
material
and
high
explosives
in
his
hands, mind
completely
blown
by
the
fact.
“Let’s
get
the
aircraft
cranked
up
so
I
can
fly
this
damn
thing
out
of here.”

Face
looked
Bobby
in
the
eyes
for
a
heartbeat.
“What
do
you
meanyou
are
going
to
fly
this
thing
out
of here?
We’re
a
crew,
you
and
me,
pal.
We’ve
been
a
team
since
you
were
a
baby
copilot.
We
most
certainly will
fly
it
out
of
here
together.”
He
turned
to
the
rest
of
the
crew.
“Get
her
ready
to
fly,
ASAP.” The
men
turned
and
ran
to
the
aircraft,
readying
it
for
flight,
pulling
covers
and
cranking
up
support equipment.

Bobby
and
Face
started
toward
the
hustling
crew
members
and
Bobby
took
one
last
shot
at
dissuading
Face.

“You
know
I
should
do
this
alone,
Face.
I’m
not
married
and
you
are.” Crap.

The
reality
hit
him
full
in
the
face.

He
couldn’t
make
that
argument
anymore.
He
turned
and
looked
at
Gracie
standing
with
Felicia
on
one
side of
her,
Matt
on
the
other
side,
her
face
pale
with
acceptance,
fear
and
tears
sheening
without
falling.

Gracie
changed
everything.

Blood
dripped
from
his
forehead
down
his
temples
with
a
gruesome
reminder
of
mortality.
He
didn’t
dare swipe
it
away.
Cleaning
up
could
come
later—if
he
had
a
later.
Oh
God,
Gracie.
He
couldn’t
think
of
all those
dreams
he’d
only
just
started
to
dare
allow
himself
to
have
with
her.

Crap,
crap,
crap!He
loved
her
so
damn
much.

“Really,
Face.”
Bobby
swallowed
hard.
“Let
me
do
this.
I
can
fly
it
alone,
put
it
on
autopilot
and
chunk
it out
the
back.
There
is
no
reason
for
both
of
us
to
take
this
risk.
Think
of
your
wife.” Face
kept
right
on
charging
ahead
as
if
he
hadn’t
even
heard
the
argument.
“I’m
the
senior
pilot
in
hours.

Shut
the
fuck
up
and
be
my
copilot
this
time.”

“Fair
enough.”And
thank
you,
my
friend.

Bobby’s
boots
pounded
dirt
toward
the
plane,
but
his
eyes
and
heart
were
tugging
him
to
the
left.

Shit.
He
didn’t
have
time
for
this
and
still
he
couldn’t
resist
the
insane
urge
to
steal
thirty
seconds.

Bobby
veered
toward
Gracie,
hooked
a
hand
behind
her
neck
and
kissed
her
hard
and
fast.
“I’ve
loved
you since
the
first
time
I
laid
eyes
on
you.
Don’t
ever
doubt
it.” Before
she
could
even
respond,
he
pivoted
and
sprinted
away.
He
didn’t
think
he
could
take
hearing
her answer
right
now,
either
way.

As
he
entered
the
side
door
with
Face,
they
bumped
into
Vegas,
the
flight
engineer,
standing
in
front
of
the three
gunners.

Vegas
took
the
lead.
“You
guys
arenot
going
it
alone.
I
don’t
even
want
to
think
about
facing
Brigid
or Lieutenant
Lanier
if
you
don’t
come
back.
Hell,
I
don’t
even
want
to
think
about
the
survivors’
guilt
we’ll have
if
that
happened.”
Flanked
by
the
gunners,
he
pushed
deeper
into
the
CV22.
“We
don’t
have
time
to argue
about
this,
so
sit
down
in
your
seats,
sirs.
We
are
ready
to
roll.” Stones
stepped
up.
“Giveme
the
case,
sir,
and
I’ll
make
sure
she
falls
out
the
back
with
style.” Both
pilots
shrugged,
and
Bobby
handed
the
case
to
Stones,
certain
in
the
man’s
steadiness.
“Don’t
hold
that too
close
to
your
enormous
’nads,
dude.
You
don’t
want
your
little
jumping
beans
inside
to
glow
in
the dark.”

Stones
winked
with
unshakable
bravery,
as
if
he
hadn’t
been
hurling
in
the
brush
just
minutes
earlier.
“Not
a chance,
sir.”

The
pilots
bolted
toward
their
seats,
strapping
in
faster
than
ever
before.
“Hey,
Face,”
Bobby
said,
“you know
what
we’re
missing
here?”

“What’s
that?”
he
responded
with
sweat
dripping
down
his
neck,
mingling
with
blood
from
shrapnel
dings and
scratches.

“How
far
we
need
to
get
off
the
coast,
and
how
far
we
need
to
get
away
before
it
goes
boom.
You
finish starting
the
engines.
I’ll
scope
out
some
math.”
Bobby
leaned
out
the
window
and
gestured
for
Matthias Lanier.

The
older
man
sprinted
over
to
the
aircraft
at
a
truly
honed
runner’s
pace.
“I’m
going
to
assume
you
want
to know
how
far
to
go
and
how
far
away
you
have
to
be
at
detonation,
correct?” Bobby
grinned
in
spite
of
the
tension
searing
the
air
hotter
than
the
summer
sun.
“You
really
are
a
genius, aren’t
you?”

Dr.
Lanier
smiled
back,
perspiration
beading
on
his
slightly
balding
head.
“It
does
come
in
handy
every
once in
a
while.”
Without
consulting
even
so
much
as
a
notepad,
he
recited,
“You
need
to
get
twentyfive
miles off
the
coast—at
least—but
the
farther
the
better
if
your
craft’s
got
the
juice.
Then
you’ll
want
to
get
that case
in
the
water.
If
you
can
weight
the
case
to
sink
faster,
go
for
it.
As
far
as
a
safe
escape
distance afterward.
Well…
I
am
guessing,
try
for
at
least
two
minutes
to
haul
out,
but
in
a
pinch,
a
mile
will
probably do
it.”

Bobby
wrote
every
word,
no
room
for
screwing
this
one
up.
He
didn’t
much
like
probably
and
maybe,
but he
trusted
this
man’s
certainty
on
the
subject
probably
more
than
anyone
else’s.

Gracie’s
father
continued,
“The
water
will
eat
up
most
of
the
explosion
and
I’m
damn
near
certain
the nuclear
material
will
also
stay
in
the
water
if
the
case
sinks
deep
enough.
And
no
worries
about
the
timer’s accuracy.
That
much
I
could
determine.”
He
reached
through
the
window
and
squeezed
Bobby’s
arm
just
as the
engines
roared
to
life.
“Good
luck,
Iwill
see
you
back
here
in
about
an
hour,
because
you
and
I
have some
talking
to
do
about
my
daughter.”

“Yes,
sir,
we
do.”
Bobby
pulled
his
helmet
onto
his
head
and
plugged
into
the
interphone
system.
“Anyone who
wants
off
needs
to
go
now.
How
long
do
we
have
left
on
that
ticking
timer?” Stones
reported
up.
“We
have
twentytwo
minutes
so
let’s
haul
ass,
sir.” Bobby
looked
at
his
instructor
pilot,
his
best
friend,
and
gave
him
a
thumbsup.
“Ready
on
this
side,
Face.

Everybody
ready
in
the
back?”

“Left
gunner
ready,”
Padre,
the
king
of
bar
fights,
answered.

“Rear
gunner
ready,”
Stones
of
the
fearless
nerves
reported.

“Right
gunner
ready,”
Sandman,
the
lady
charmer,
said.

“Engineer
ready,”
Vegas,
a
family
man
at
heart,
concluded
from
between
them.

Face
applied
power
and
lifted
the
tiltrotor
off
the
ground
and
into
the
air.
The
aircraft
transitioned
to
forward flight
and
accelerated
over
the
trees
until
it
was
at
top
speed,
foliage
bowing
in
farewell
as
they
sped
away.

Bobby
pulled
out
a
map
of
the
area
and
gauged
the
fastest
route
to
the
water.
“Come
left
ten
degrees,
Face.

That
will
get
us
over
the
water
the
quickest.
I
wish
these
aero
charts
had
water
depth
on
them,
but
other
than this
oddashell
situation,
who
would
use
that
data?”

Bobby
dialed
up
the
emergency
frequency
and
announced,
“Attention
all
aircraft.
Hornet
twoone
is
an emergency
aircraft.
Ten
miles
south
of
Cantou
proceeding
out
over
the
water.” That
should
hold
them
through.
Nobody
around
here
would
really
care
if
they
were
leaving.
He
would
deal with
returning
when
the
time
came.
And
damn
it,
they
would
return.
Thank
God
for
the
Delta
dudes
on
the ground
clearing
the
area
to
eliminate
risks
of
that
freaking
Council
shooting
up
with
antiaircraft
fire.

Crystalblue
water
soon
became
visible
on
the
horizon.
As
they
crossed
over
the
sandy
beach
and
palms, Bobby
came
over
the
interphone.
“Feet
wet,
crew.
How
long,
Stones?” Stones
cracked
open
the
lid
and
replied,
“Fifteen
minutes.” Bobby
answered,
“Okay,
now
let’s
see
if
we
can
weight
the
thing
down.
Gracie’s
old
man
said
that
would help
sink
it
faster.
Anything
you
can
work
with
back
there?” From
the
rear,
Padre
answered,
“I
think
so,
sir.
How
about
an
Athree
bag
and
some
full
ammo
cans?
That ought
to
sink
the
case
like
a
rock.”

“Outstanding,”
Face
agreed.
“Make
that
happen,
but
don’t
put
the
case
in
there
until
we
are
ready
to
get
rid of
it.
We’ve
got
to
keep
an
eye
on
that
timer.”

The
miles
clicked
off
as
they
headed
out
to
sea,
the
crew
unusually
quiet.
No
music,
ribbing,
overall
chatter.

Instead
Bobby’s
mind
channeled
through
whatifs
with
Gracie.
The
possibility
of
taking
the
eternal
dirt
nap.

He
needed
to
shut
up
his
ADHD
brain.

Who
knew
silence
could
be
so
heavy?

Bobby
switched
on
the
interphone.
“We’re
twentyfive
miles
out.
Give
us
a
headsup
when
you’ve
got
it weighted
or
when
we’ve
got
five
minutes
left,
whichever
comes
first.”

“Roger
that,”
Stones
clipped.

Time
passed
along
with
the
ripples
of
water
beneath
them
and
trickles
of
perspiration
tracing
down
skin.

Bobby
started
to
seriously
sweat
it
for
the
first
time
when
finally—thank
God—finallythe
interphone crackled.

“Sir,”
Stones
called.
“Five
minutes.”

Bobby
measured
his
breaths.
“All
right,
get
it
in
the
bag
and
zip
it
up.” Face
nodded.
“I’ll
slow
to
a
crawl
here
to
cut
down
on
the
wind
when
you
drop
the
hatch.” Stones
reported,
“Thanks.
I’m
tied
down
and
ready,
sir.”

Everything
happened
so
damn
fast,
calls
shooting
back
and
forth.
He
couldn’t
remember
a
shorter
twenty minutes
in
his
life.
Face
slowed
the
aircraft
down
while
Bobby
called
out
airspeeds
and
altitudes,
thank
God for
training,
the
only
thing
carrying
him
through.

When
he
was
down
to
twenty
knots
and
three
hundred
feet
he
called
back,
“Get
rid
of
it.
Now.” From
the
back
he
heard,
“Package
away.”

The
thing
couldn’t
have
weighed
more
than
forty
pounds
and
yet
the
plane
seemed
buoyant
from
the
release of
the
threat
of
death.

Gracie.
Bobby
tried
his
damnedest
to
swallow,
but
his
throat
clogged
with
thoughts
of
seeing
Gracie
when he
landed.

Face
accelerated,
allout.
“I
don’t
care
what
the
doc
says.
Let’s
get
miles
and
miles
between
us
and
that thing.”

Clearing
his
throat
enough
to
speak,
Bobby
monitored
the
panel.
“I
couldn’t
agree
with
you
more,
dude.” CHAPTER
TWENTYTHREE

Cantou

Three
months
later

GRACIE
COULDN’Tbelieve
she
was
hanging
out
in
a
crappy
ol’
bus
with
Bobby
again.

She
glanced
out
the
windows
at
the
familiar
roads
and
stores,
the
beauty
of
the
sculpted
landscape
so
exotic and
lush.
Pedestrians
ambled
along
the
streets,
looking
straight
ahead
and
relaxed
rather
than
over
their shoulders,
tensed
for
danger.

Today,
the
CV22
and
C17
crew
members,
along
with
the
Delta
forces
and
psyops
team,
were
heading
to a
command
appearance
from
the
newly
installed
president
of
Cantou,
a
great
friend
of
democracy.
A banquet
was
being
thrown
in
their
honor,
complete
with
medals
and
some
seriously
rocking
good
facetime with
General
Renshaw.

The
new
leader
of
Cantou
was
also
grateful
beyond
measure
to
have
that
dirty
nuke
explode
ineffectively way
the
hell
deep
on
the
ocean
floor.
Just
as
Matt
predicted,
the
water
and
the
depth
worked
to
disperse
the lethal
possibilities.
Like
a
cup
of
sugar
seemingly
disappearing
in
a
pool,
the
nuclear
waste
dispersed
in
the vast
ocean,
one
of
those
odd
quirks
of
nature,
but
one
that
enables
underwater
testing
of
nuclear
weapons.

And
even
if
it
hadn’t,
bottom
line
they
still
wouldn’t
have
had
a
choice
when
it
came
to
all
those
lives
in
the village.

They’d
saved
a
town.
Wow.
Unbelievable.

The
new
president
wanted
to
thank
the
Air
Force
and
Army
service
members
responsible
for
shutting
down the
terrorist
group
who
called
themselves
the
People’s
Revolutionary
Council.

Gracie
hadn’t
lost
much
sleep
over
Rurik
Zazlov’s
death,
but
Jiang
Lee’s
face
had
haunted
her
dreams
more than
once.
The
woman
had
been
a
part
of
the
organization,
yet
she’d
saved
them
by
absorbing
the
blast
with her
own
body.
Her
love
for
Zazlov
had
been
undeniable,
yet
her
sense
of
humanity
stronger.
The
woman deserved
to
be
remembered
for
that
final
act
and
sadly,
it
seemed
Gracie
would
be
the
only
one
in
any position
to
honor
that
sacrifice.

And
yeah,
she
thought
of
herself
as
Gracie
these
days.
Bobby
had
brought
a
lightness
and
informality
to
her life
she
had
to
admit
she
enjoyed
on
occasion.
And
she’d
straightened
his
crazy
ass
out
just
enough
to
keep him
safe
and
on
this
planet,
but
not
so
much
to
take
the
fun
out
of
him.

After
all,
Bobby
really
did
know
how
to
have
fun.

Her
father
most
certainly
was
happier
these
days
as
well.
Felicia’s
organization
was
based
out
of
Zurich, Switzerland,
so
her
father
had
taken
a
sabbatical
to
write
a
book
and
guest
lecture.
Their
lives
fit,
and
her father
finally
had
a
partner
who
loved
him.
Best
of
all,
she
understood
him.
Gracie
didn’t
have
to
worry
so much
about
him
with
Felicia
to
look
out
for
him.
For
all
Ms.
Fratarcangelo’s
outward
fluff,
Gracie’s
personal and
professional
opinions
agreed.
The
woman
was
rock
solid
and
loved
Matthias
Lanier.

Besides,
Felicia
made
her
dad
happy,
and
that
was
truly
a
wonderful
sight
to
see
after
so
many
years
of
him busting
his
hump
searching
for
balance.

The
bus
rattled
along
the
pocked
road
toward
the
capital,
wornout
shock
absorbers
throwing
her
against snoozing
Bobby
with
a
regularity
that
tempted
her
with
teasing
brushes
against
his
rocksolid
body
and bouncing
knee.
A
body
that
looked
particularly
tempting
in
his
full
mess
dress
uniform,
with
more
medals than
a
military
aviator
should
have
earned
in
a
whole
thirtyyear
career.

Her
heart
squeezed
at
the
thought
of
the
dangerous
missions
attached
to
each
medal,
but
she
had
to
let
it
go.

She
understood
him
and
his
call
to
serve.
More
than
that,
his
call
to
the
sky
had
saved
the
son
of
a
junkie.

She
also
understood
her
calling
could
be
fulfilled
just
as
easily
in
his
town
of
Fort
Walton
Beach
as
a
profiler for
the
police.
She’d
already
turned
in
her
paperwork
to
resign
her
commission
as
an
Army
Reservist.

“Hey,
Gracie?”
Bobby
opened
his
eyes,
a
gaze
so
full
of
love
for
her
she
never
doubted
for
a
second
he
was hers
for
life.

“Yeah,
Bobby?”
she
asked
as
lush
trees
whooshed
by
the
open
windows,
letting
in
bugs
and
the cacophonous
sounds
of
a
symphony
of
jungle
animals
in
the
distance.