Test Pilot's Daughter II: Dead Reckoning (13 page)

Christina took a deep breath and tried to slow her thumping heart. She crossed her fingers that Michael had the balls to hold up. He looked quite pale and skittish. After a couple of awkward moments, his appearance began to transform. All of a sudden he shifted from white faced, scared shitless, to red faced and enraged. His head appeared to swell, and he looked like a volcano about to erupt.
Oh no.
What’s he gonna do?
she winced.

Michael stood, stepped over to the Director and put his extended forefinger on the man’s chest. “I know one thing,” he said, turning his head sideways, “Rhani here is a Muslim. He has Sunni connections. He swears by the Quran, hates Americans. and he’s a goddam
traitor!
And if you ever put him on another shuttle mission, I’ll personally rip your fucking eyeballs out. You had better get me back on 7-3-4, or you will wish you had.”

Holy shit!
Christina almost fainted.
So much for the mild mannered nerd
. She had never seen him so angry. The once meek nuclear physicist looked more like a Canadian Mounty coming to the aid of a helpless damsel tied to the tracks. She was shocked Michael would confront Scott with such ferocity and, at the same time, she was afraid of what might ensue.
What if he spills the beans? Holy shit!

“Those are pretty serious charges, Twinky. And may I ask how you came by such information? I believe you’re jealous of this young man and upset because I took you off the mission.” Scott suddenly looked like a light bulb went on over his head. “If you didn’t break into his apartment how did you learn he has connections in Iran?”

Michael turned to Christina and smiled like he had just discovered gold. Then he turned back to Scott with the austere look of a prosecutor. “I didn’t say he had connections in Iran, but
you
did. I said he was connected to Sunnis. Let me ask you,
Sir!
What on earth would make you say such a thing?”

“Uh. . .I thought you. . .” Scott looked confused and started yelling, “I want you two to leave this office right now!”

“Bullshit!” Christina said flatly. Now she moved up behind Michael ready to join in.
That asshole should be hung from the rafters.

“Let’s see?” Michael pushed Scott backwards with his finger and summed up his case. “Rhani Hussein was vetted by NASA, and
you
had final approval of the process. If he had connections in Iran, only you and the CIA would know about it. And you cleared him for missions involving Iranian satellites. I’m afraid to say, that’s very suspicious, Director.”

“You don’t have the clearance for such information, son. You’re in deep trouble. I can have you arrested,” Scott picked up his phone.

Michael knocked the phone away and grabbed him by both lapels. He lifted him off the floor and slammed him against the wall. “You filthy piece of scum. You’ve compromised everything good about this country, and let this Jihadist on the inside. Why would you do that,
Sir?”
He slammed him again. Scott’s reading glasses flew off, and his eyes bulged out in fear. “Why would you let Rhani fly on a mission that targeted an Iranian satellite? I’d say you’re the one in deep shit. I might even kill you myself.”

Christina was stunned and, at the same time, so proud of Michael. He was
unbelievable,
fearless, and she didn’t care what happened. Michael was absolutely right.

“Security!” screamed Scott at the top of his lungs. His face contorted in fright, but Michael wouldn’t let him go.

Rhani stood up and pounded on Michael’s back. Christina would have none of that. She pounced on Rhani like a starving lioness. The entire stack of human flesh fell to the floor as her bodyguards ran into the room and jumped in the melee. It looked like the
Jerry Springer Show
where the big guy separates all the swinging exes while they scream at each other. She lashed out at Rhani one last time and sent a fist into his face.

He fell back looking dumbfounded, blood running out of one nostril, and whined, “That hurt!”

Once the dust settled, Scott found his breath, “I won’t give your accusations the dignity of addressing them. I called you in here because General Wallace asked for a meeting with the two of you to discuss DROID patent rights.” He reached up and wiped the blood from one side of his mouth. “For some unknown reason he wants to meet at Fort McPherson in the Judge Advocate’s office at 4:00 pm on Thursday.” All of a sudden his eyes lit up like he just discovered how to get rid of them. “No screwing around; I want you to fly commercial with security to Atlanta, then get back here on Friday afternoon. I intend to launch a full investigation of the break in, and I’ll want to talk to you some more on your return. Now, not another word said, get out of my office.”

Neither Christina nor Michael responded; they were still fuming. They had to be restrained as the guards drug them toward the door.

Before they could exit, Scott spoke again, “I don’t want any more talk about traitors or threats. You two had better get your shit together, or you’ll be out of NASA for good. Now, go get your travel orders.”

Along with four bodyguards the two young astronauts sat in the waiting area at Houston International Airport for Delta flight 336 to Atlanta. Christina thought,
What a pain to fly commercial.
They could have flown their trainers in half the time. Both she and Michael were still reeling over the meeting with Scott and didn’t know exactly how it would settle. The flight was delayed, and they had to wait almost three hours in the airport. Patience not her virtue, she hated nothing more than waiting. Waiting for a shuttle launch was bad enough, but waiting for a commercial flight was torture. She just refused to eat at any restaurant where the wait was more than five minutes. If there was a line for the movies or anything else, she would just go home. But more than anything else, she hated waiting for airplanes.

“Dammit, Michael, this really sucks.”

He calmly looked up from his book. “Settle down Madonna and see how the common folk live. You know, I hate to tell you this but the world doesn’t always revolve around Christina Matthews.”

“I don’t know how anyone can stand all this. The plane is right there, I could spit on it from here, but where’s the friggin’ crew? Why don’t they just let me fly the damn thing?”

“Take it easy,” he tried to calm her down. “Here they come, just relax. You can’t always be in the driver’s seat you know.”

It was an interesting twist. Three male flight attendants and two female pilots walked to their gate toward the secure access door. The flight attendants were chattering like a gaggle of hens.
Sweet,
Christina chuckled. The pilots looked sharp in their formal uniforms. One had short brown hair pulled up and the other had long blond hair, right down her back.

“My God, times
have
changed.” She poked Michael in the side and nodded toward the crew. “I hope those girls know what they’re doing.” She immediately felt guilty for even thinking it.
Sorry ladies, way to go, more power to ya
.

“So much for hitting on the stewardesses,” Michael laughed. “Think I’ll hustle the pilots.”

“Easy there big boy; you’ve already got the best goddam pilot you’ll ever meet.”

“I do?” He looked at her and rolled his eyes. “What happened to ‘I’m not ready?’” he said with a snarl. “Hey, I’m a free man, and blonds have more fun.”

“Well then, get your ass over there and hustle them
dick-head!”
Christina snorted like a pissed off third grader.

What a cattle car,
Christina thought. Her long legs barely fit in the small space between the seats. Just as she got comfortable, the lady in front tried to push her seat back. Christina leaned over, “Sorry ma’am, you have to keep it forward until we take off.” She looked over at Michael and showed her disgust, “Mooooo.”

He just rolled his eyes and went back to his book.

Michael was at the window, and she had the aisle, thinking they were lucky to have the only empty seat in between. She started to relax and spread out when it happened. Just as they were about to close the door, a sweaty salesman type, a huge guy about three hundred pounds stumbled in with two overstuffed bags. Christina looked around, and the plane was full.
Oh Jesus, Lord, no, please no!

Huffing and puffing, the Jolly Green Giant, made his way down the narrow aisle banging his bags into the seats. People on both sides parted like the Red Sea. He made a beeline for Christina, pointed his stubby fist and grunted,
“Mungh.”

She took off her belt and wiggled into the aisle. The man squeezed in and spilled over on both sides jamming Michael up against the window. Christina sat back down, leaned hard right and tried her best to find her seatbelt.
Uh oh,
shit, it’s a wedgie.
“Excuse me,” she said. “My belt is somewhere in there, pointing with her eyes.”

No choice, she went for it like reaching into a beehive. When she settled into her half-seat, she almost gagged with the acrid smell of
B-O.
Looking at the itinerary, she wondered,
How long can I hold my breath?
As soon as they left the runway, the lady in front released her seat and rammed it back full force.
Ungh. . .yeah, this is fun.
She leaned toward the aisle and tried to relax as fat-man began coughing, spraying fumes like an exploding water balloon.
My God, sounds like he’s got TB
. She looked at the male flight attendant silently begging for mercy.

“Sorry ma’am,” he read her mind, “it’s a full flight.”

Besides the fact there were two crying babies nearby, the flight was fairly smooth and uneventful. With no checked luggage they went straight to Ground Transportation at Atlanta Hartsfield and were picked up by Col. Jim Richards in a military courtesy van. The drive to Fort McPherson was only about ten minutes. Christina didn’t know exactly what to expect so she carried a briefcase full of notes on DROID and a sealed envelope containing evidence on Director Scott. When they entered the JAG office, they were lead down a long hall to the Judge’s chambers in a rather plush conference room. The security team talked into their sleeves and positioned themselves on either side of the door.

She pulled the door shut for some privacy. “Michael, would you please scan the room while I organize my notes? I want to make sure there aren’t any bugs crawling under the furniture.”

“Good idea,” he agreed. “I should’ve thought of that.” They were alone for about five minutes as he worked his way around. He was under the conference room table when the door flew open, and he banged his head with a start.
“Ouch!”
he shouted, crawling out on all fours.

A little nervous, Christina also jumped when Wallace entered the room behind her. He carried two, Top Secret patent applications with some Government forms and appeared happy to see her. She glanced at Michael and tried to cover. “Lost his contact.”

“Never mind,” Michael said rubbing his head, “I don’t really need it.”

“Christina, my dear, I’m so glad you made it safely. Hello Michael. These are dangerous times. By all appearances it looks like you are well protected.”

“Yeah, it’s a pain in the butt,” she chortled.

He sat down, put his hand on hers and gave it a squeeze in a friendly gesture. She was a little put off, because she had read in an old management book how such touching was used by senior managers to establish parental-like authority. She still didn’t know what to think of Wallace, but she would have to decide pronto.