A Kiss in the Dark (33 page)

She felt like an idiot, and knew both Captain Dawson and Lieutenant Palmer would have been in complete agreement with that sentiment, but she no longer cared. Angel was safe and that was all that mattered.

She had just turned away when the sound of Angel’s voice on the control-tower radio caused her to stop in her tracks.

“Roadrunner, this is Diablo. I have a problem.”

Sedona stood, riveted, as every man in the room converged on the instrument panels.

“This is Roadrunner,” replied the flight boss. “Go ahead, Diablo.”

“I’ve lost my left engine. It’s blown to hell. I have FOD tearing through the fuselage. I have one good engine, but I’m losing altitude.”

“Roger that, Diablo. Start ejection sequence.”

Even as Commander Colletti began speaking, Sedona heard Captain Dawson swear softly beneath his breath. He turned to Lieutenant Palmer. “Get those other aircraft back on the ground.
Now.
”

“Yessir.” Lieutenant Palmer snatched up a spare headset and began contacting the other pilots, commanding them to return to base.

“Negative on ejection.” Angel’s voice was eerily calm. “I have civilian population below…attempting to reach open water.”

“Jesus,” breathed Lieutenant Palmer, looking up at Captain Dawson. “If he’s already breaking up, he’ll never make it.”

Together they watched the tiny green blip on the radar screen that was Angel’s jet. Without realizing she did so, Sedona moved closer to stare with horrified fascination at the small dot as it blinked across the monitor. She knew the jet was traveling at hundreds of miles per hour, but it appeared to travel at a snail’s pace across the screen.

Sedona felt light-headed. This couldn’t be happening. The very scenario she had dreaded was unfolding before her eyes. She saw the perimeter of the land mass faintly outlined on the radar screen, and though Angel was closing the distance to the water, she also saw he was rapidly losing altitude.

“Roadrunner, this is Splatt. I have Diablo covered at five o’clock and it doesn’t look good. He’s spewing body parts and fuel.”

Sedona gasped.
Body parts?

Commander Colletti yanked his mouthpiece away and met her horrified gaze. “Pieces of the aircraft are breaking away,” he explained grimly. He shoved the mouthpiece back into place. “Eject, Diablo. Repeat, eject.”

“Negative, sir. I can still make open water.”

“Diablo, this is a direct order.
Eject.
”

“Roadrunner, this is Splatt. Diablo still in control of aircraft and accelerating toward open water.” An instant later, “Belay that message, Roadrunner. He’s losing control of the jet. Hard yaw to the left…now back to the right. He’s overcompensated. Aircraft in a flat spin. Looks like an out-of-control Frisbee. He’s shooting flames and throwing debris. The aircraft is over open water.”

“Dammit, Diablo,
eject!
”

There was a momentary silence. Every person in the control tower leaned forward. Sedona passed a hand over her eyes, feeling ill. Even if Angel did eject, could he do it in time to avoid serious injury? She’d read numerous accident reports during her years with Aerospace International and she knew how dangerous ejection could be to the pilot. With the aircraft in a spin, Angel could inadvertently eject directly into the water and be killed instantly. Even if he ejected correctly, he could be rendered unconscious and drown before they could rescue him.

“Roadrunner, this is Splatt. Aircraft down over open water. Pilot ejected. Repeat, pilot ejected and in the water.”

Sedona didn’t wait to hear more. With a muttered curse, she turned on her heel toward the stairs.

“Miss Stewart!” Captain Dawson’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “Where are you going?”

She looked up, directly into the captain’s eyes, and didn’t try to hide the tears of fury that blurred her vision. “I’m going to find the son of a bitch who sabotaged that aircraft.”

* * *

T
HE
CENTRIFUGAL
FORCE
was enough to pin Angel to the instrument panel as the aircraft yawed in a corkscrew motion. Full thrust on his one good engine swung the tail around and the aircraft veered in the other direction. The sound of screaming engine and twisting metal filled the cockpit, and the acrid stench of burning jet fuel filled his nostrils.

He slammed the stick left to compensate, but it wasn’t enough. The vortex of the falling jet caused his one good engine to flame out, and then he dropped below the canopy of clouds and into the thick soup of the coastal storm.

Through a break in the clouds below him, Angel glimpsed the churning waters of the Pacific as the earth rose to meet him. Using every bit of strength he had to push against the g-forces that held him immobile, he reached back and wrapped his hand around the ejection handle and began the ejection sequence.

Almost immediately, the Coyote’s canopy blasted away, sucked upward into the turbulent skies. Angel yanked the handle. He slammed back into his seat as the ejection-seat straps responded. One. Two. The rockets beneath the seat blasted him out of the jet. The stunning impact jarred his teeth and caused his head to snap back. Then he was tumbling, free-falling through the stormy skies.

Instinctively, he reached up and groped for the straps that held him pinned to the seat. He pulled on them sharply, then the seat tumbled away and his chute streamed out. He glanced upward, saw it balloon open and gritted his teeth against the violent snap that stopped his fall and jerked him upward until he was floating, suspended in his harness beneath the open chute. He drifted for scant seconds as rain sluiced over his helmet and into his face, before he plunged into the sea.

Something in his ankle snapped, but before he could think about it, his heavy gear sucked him down and the dark waters of the Pacific closed over his head. Almost immediately, the life preserver that was built into his survival vest inflated around his neck, pressing against his jaw. Using his arms and legs, he fought to propel himself upward. Before he could reach the surface, he was yanked hard to one side as the wind caught his chute, dragging him through the churning waters and twisting him in the straps. He was turning over and over as he struggled desperately to release himself from the tangled line.

He burst through to the surface and sucked in huge gulps of air, heedless of the rain that lashed his face. Reaching up, he fumbled with the release snaps, and fell back into the water as the parachute finally broke free and whipped across the waves like a giant kite.

The sea was rough, with eight-foot chops. Gusts of wind blew blinding spray into his face. At one point, when a large wave buoyed him up, he thought he glimpsed debris from his jet floating a short distance away. His heavy gear threatened to drag him beneath the surface once again. His own harsh breathing filled his ears. His body felt battered, almost too weak to continue treading water, and he became aware of the throbbing pain in his left ankle.

Summoning up his last bit of strength, he twisted and fumbled with fingers that were cold and numb, until he located the inflatable raft attached to his harness. He pulled the cord and the orange raft burst open with a hiss until it bounced beside him on the surface.

Angel hooked an arm over the side, pulled himself into the small opening, ignoring the screaming protest of his injured leg, and collapsed onto his back, exhausted. He flung an arm over his eyes and breathed heavily, letting the undulating waves soothe his body.

He was alive.

Pushing to a sitting position, he braced himself against the side of the raft and bent over to examine his injured leg. Gritting his teeth against the shooting pain, he unlaced his boot and peeled the wet fabric of his flight suit back far enough to assess the damage. It looked to be a compound fracture of his ankle. The skin around the protruding bone was ragged and inflamed, but there was little blood and, if he didn’t move too much, the pain was bearable. The bone must have snapped on impact with the water, though he barely recalled feeling it at the time. He eased the fabric back into place and sank back against the edge of the raft.

He was alive.

Despite the loss of the Coyote, and the pain in his ankle, he smiled. He’d managed to push the aircraft, even with the damage she’d sustained, to the safety of the open ocean. When he’d first heard the terrifying
boom
of the engine, seen the warning lights begin to flash, and then felt the aircraft shudder and falter as the foreign object tore through the engine compartment and shredded the turbofans, he’d known he wasn’t going to be landing. He just wanted to ensure the inevitable crash didn’t take innocent lives. But damn, he regretted the loss of the Coyote.

Where was Sedona right now? Had she heard about the crash? God, he hoped not. It would only confirm her belief that his job was too dangerous.

An image of her floated behind his closed eyes—Sedona smiling, laughing, doing things that completely blew his mind and made him ache to take her. Her words echoed in his head.
“Guys like you—you’re not normal…I can’t be with a guy who takes the kind of risks you take on a daily basis.”

He lifted his arm from his face and stared into the pewter clouds overhead, letting the rain wash against his skin.

He was alive.

Despite the pain in his leg, and despite the fact he was floating somewhere out in the middle of the goddamn ocean with a monsoon pouring down on him, he felt great. Maybe he’d gambled with his life today, but it had shown him how precious that life was. And way too short to go it alone.

For an instant, when he’d been unsure if the Coyote was going to stay airborne long enough to push her out over the water, when he didn’t know if he’d be able to eject safely, one thought had consumed him: if he didn’t survive, Sedona would never know he loved her.

He’d already known he was falling for her, and fast. Despite his resolve not to become seriously involved, he hadn’t counted on his heart having other plans. He’d told Sedona he wanted a relationship with her, but maybe if he’d told her he loved her she wouldn’t have walked away.

He needed to talk to her, convince her to give them a chance. As soon as he got back to Lemoore, he’d tell her how he felt about her. He’d even give up combat flying. Maybe he could get an assignment as a flight instructor, either at Lemoore or Oceana. As an instructor, he could experience the thrill of combat flight every day.

The thought of being grounded long enough to actually establish roots brought him a profound sense of well-being. He and Sedona belonged together, and it was way past time he told her so.

16

S
EDONA
MADE
IT
all the way back to the Coyote hangar before Lieutenant Palmer caught up with her. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to a stop just outside the hangar.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Ms. Stewart?”

Sedona turned to face him, squinting through the rain that lashed her face and whipped hair into her eyes. “I’m going to find Airman Laudano,” she said, wreathing her words with a patently false smile, “and then I’m going to wring the little bastard’s neck until he confesses.”

“I already told you,” Lieutenant Palmer said between gritted teeth, “Laudano didn’t inspect those jets.”

“I know. You already said Airman Wheeler did. But I can’t believe he sabotaged those jets. My money’s still on Laudano.” She bit the words out and wrenched her arm free of his grasp at the same time.

Casting a baleful glance up at the sky, Lieutenant Palmer grimaced and shoved her ahead of him into the shelter of the hangar. “Let’s get the hell out of this rain, then we’ll talk.”

Inside the hangar, Sedona shook the water from her arms and hands, and used her fingers to wipe the moisture from her face. She turned to look at Lieutenant Palmer, who was squeezing the water out of his hat.

“Okay,” she said, impatience edging her voice. “I’m listening.”

The lieutenant glanced around as if someone might overhear them. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but…” His voice dropped and he cast an uneasy glance over his shoulder. “I have reason to believe Wheeler
is
the one sabotaging the jets.”

Sedona’s eyebrows flew up. “
Wheeler?
But—”

“Shh!”
Lieutenant Palmer gestured furiously for her to keep her voice down. “It’s only a suspicion I have.”

A frown hitched between Sedona’s brows. “Well, have you talked to the investigators about your suspicions? I mean, Christ, Angel’s jet is down!”

A tightening in her throat, accompanied by a sudden burning sensation at the back of her eyes, forced her to look away. She had to get a grip on herself or she was going to lose it. She blinked rapidly. The man she loved was somewhere in the waters of the Pacific, and she didn’t even know if he was alive. Swallowing hard, she composed her features and turned back to Palmer. “Just when were you planning on sharing this bit of information?”

Palmer shifted uncomfortably, and his eyes slid away from hers. “Soon. Right away. I just wanted to be sure. And I am.” He nodded his head, as if to convince himself. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s Wheeler.”

Sedona recalled the plane captain’s wholesome good looks and shy nature. There was no way she could envision him doing anything as treacherous as sabotaging the Coyotes. During the exchange she’d witnessed earlier, it had sure looked like Laudano was threatening Wheeler. Had those threats been related to the Coyotes?

She narrowed her eyes at the lieutenant. “What about Laudano? If he’s already on restriction because of some offense, wouldn’t it make sense to look at him first? Maybe this is some twisted attempt at revenge. Besides, I heard him threatening Wheeler. Maybe it was to keep him quiet.”

“I already told you, he wasn’t the last one to inspect the jets. Wheeler was.”

Sedona turned away and pinched the bridge of her nose. It made no sense. What possible reason could Wheeler have for wanting to jeopardize the lives of the Coyote pilots? She’d been so certain that if anyone was responsible for sabotaging those jets, it was Laudano.

“I just don’t get it,” she muttered. “Why would Wheeler do such a thing?” She turned back to Palmer, who watched her closely. “Where is Laudano now?”

“You can’t talk to him. He’s on restriction and I’m sure the investigation team is prohibiting contact with any of the plane captains until they’ve had the chance to question them.”

Loud voices drifted to Sedona from across the hangar, momentarily distracting her. A team of military police strode through the hangar, barking directions to seal off the Coyotes and quarantine the area.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said darkly. “I’ll just bet those MPs will be interested in hearing your theories about Wheeler.” Without waiting for a reply, she moved toward them with long, determined strides.

“No, wait!” Lieutenant Palmer took two swift steps after her and grabbed her upper arm, spinning her around.

“What—?” Sedona tried to wrench free.

“Just
wait,
dammit!” Palmer’s eyes looked wild and unfocused. He tightened his grip on her arm. “I have to tell you—”

“Let me go,” Sedona said, her voice low and tight.
“Now.”
She stared at Palmer, and even with the military police just steps away, a frisson of fear feathered its way up her spine as she watched his eyes. He didn’t release her; instead, he began to haul her toward him and Sedona had a vision of him dragging her out of the hangar before she had a chance to speak to the police.

“Hey!” She resisted, twisting her arm in his grasp and straining to pull away from him. “I said let me go!”

“No, wait. Please!”

At the same instant she managed to jerk her arm free, she stepped back, directly onto a patch of oil-slickened floor. Her foot flew out from beneath her and she teetered precariously. With a sharp cry, she grabbed at Lieutenant Palmer’s shirtfront. Unbalanced, he cartwheeled his arms and in the next instant they both toppled to the floor. Sedona landed heavily on her backside with the lieutenant on top of her. She shoved at Palmer’s shoulders. He groaned and rolled to his back beside her.

“Ma’am?”

Looking up, she saw a burly MP bending over them. He extended a hand and hauled her to her feet.

“Oh, man,” she said ruefully, “that hurt.”

She rubbed her posterior and looked down at Palmer as he sat up. His shirt was partially pulled out of his waistband and several buttons had popped free where she had grabbed him. He leaned forward and pushed himself to his feet. As he did so, a handful of small metal balls fell out of his breast pocket and skittered madly across the concrete floor, like beads from a broken necklace.

Stopping one with her foot, Sedona bent down and picked it up. “What is this, Lieutenant Palmer? A ball bearing?”

Palmer stared at the small sphere that rested in her palm, before his glance shot to the military police with something like panic. “I—I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t what it looks like.”

Sedona stared at him in dawning horror. “Did
you
do it? Did you put those ball bearings on the back of the fans?”

His eyes shifted to the military-police officer who stood beside her, and his hand pressed furtively against the pocket of his trousers.

“What do you have in your pocket, Lieutenant?” she asked. “Anything you’d care to show us? Maybe some more ball bearings? Is that what you were doing when I saw you on the flight line that night?”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered. His gaze flicked between her and the MPs who now ringed them.

Sedona held out her hand. “Then you won’t mind showing us what’s in your pocket.”

When it seemed he might actually refuse, one of the military police took a step forward. “Sir, please empty your pockets.”

Palmer looked desperately around, as if seeking some escape. Seeing none, his shoulders sagged. He reached into his pocket and withdrew what looked like a trial-size tube of toothpaste.

“I never meant to hurt anyone,” he muttered.

The MP took the tube and turned it over in his hands. “Industrial-strength adhesive,” he murmured, reading the words on the outside of the tube. He looked back at Palmer, his eyes hard. “I’m sorry, sir, but you’ll need to come with us and answer a few questions.”

“Wait a minute,” Sedona interrupted. “I just want to know one thing, Lieutenant Palmer.” She stared at him, as if by searching his eyes she might glean some understanding of what would prompt him to commit such a crime. “Why?”

“I think I can answer that for you.”

Sedona whirled around. Standing several feet away was Airman Wheeler. His face was grim.

“Please tell me you’re not involved in this,” Sedona breathed.

He flushed. “No, ma’am, except as a potential scapegoat.” He gave Palmer one brief glance, filled with both sympathy and disgust. “I found out Laudano’s been buying drugs for this guy.” He grimaced. “I even agreed to keep quiet about it since we’re almost family, but Laudano got caught bringing some of that crap back onto the base. He refused to implicate the good lieutenant here, but it looks like neither one of them trusted me to keep my mouth shut.”

Sedona knew her own mouth was open, but she couldn’t help it. “That’s what all this is about?” She turned to face Palmer. “Because you have a drug problem, you’d be willing to sabotage the Coyotes and set Wheeler up to take the blame?”

The military police moved to either side of Palmer. He offered no resistance when they drew his arms behind his back and secured them.

“You think it was just about the drugs, Stewart?” His voice was filled with contempt. “Those sons of bitches at Top Gun owe me. They
owe
me! Do you know how many years I spent trying to make the cut? And those bastards kept denying me. Do you know what that does to your psyche? To your self-esteem? To be looked down on by guys like Diablo and Tuna?”

Crew members began to drift over from their workstations to witness the unfolding drama as the police led him away. He twisted to look at her over his shoulder. “I’m a good pilot!” he cried. “I could have been up there with the best if they’d only given me a chance! But they wouldn’t, and for that they had to pay!
Someone
had to pay!”

“It’s not just about being good enough,” Sedona replied. “It’s about having the right character.” She stood and stared after him, but it wasn’t until he had disappeared from sight that she realized she was shaking.

“Ma’am?”

She turned to see Airman Wheeler looking at her with concern. She passed a hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry. I—I have to get out of here. I need to find out about Diablo.”

“Yes, ma’am. Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes.” She gave him a trembling smile. “Next time, have enough guts to do the right thing.”

He looked shamefaced. “Yes, ma’am. I only kept quiet because I didn’t want to get Laudano in any more trouble. I’m going to marry his sister, and if she thought—”

“If she loves you, she’ll understand. She’ll stand by you, no matter what.”

“Is that what you’d do? Stand beside your man, no matter what?”

Sedona gave a shaky laugh, feeling tears spring to her eyes. “Yes. If he’ll have me. If he’s still—”

For the first time, a ghost of a smile touched Wheeler’s mouth. “Ma’am, the reason I came here was to tell you they just recovered Diablo. He’s on his way to the hospital right now.”

* * *

S
EDONA
STOOD
BESIDE
the hospital bed and watched Angel as he slept. The room was dark except for one dim light over the adjoining-bathroom door, but despite the dimness, she thought she could see faint shadows beneath his closed eyes.

A rescue helicopter had plucked him from the churning sea and transported him back to Lemoore Naval Air Station, where he’d undergone surgery to repair the damage to his shattered ankle. Encased in a cast, his lower leg rested in a padded sling suspended over his bed. They’d had to use screws and pins to hold the fractured bones together, but she’d been assured he would make a full recovery.

It was the middle of the night, but Sedona hadn’t been able to leave the hospital. The thought of going back to her empty hotel room was completely depressing. She also had an irrational fear that if she didn’t stand watch by his bedside, death might still find a way to take him from her. She wanted to be with Angel—
needed
to be with Angel—and when the nurses on duty had seen her determination, they’d reluctantly allowed her to stay on the condition that she did not wake him.

She dragged a chair close to the bed and she sank onto it. Even now, she could scarcely believe he’d survived.

Reaching out, she took his hand in hers and gently stroked the back of it, admiring the long fingers. She loved his hands, loved how strong and capable they were. Loved how gentle they could be.

She started when his fingers closed around her own and squeezed gently. Jerking her gaze upward, she saw his eyes were open. He watched her with a quiet intensity, as if he half expected her to bolt. But there was no way she was leaving.

“Hey,” she said softly, and leaned closer, cupping his hand between hers. “How’re you feeling?”

“What are you doing here?” His voice was raspy and low, and the sound of it caressed her like a warm flame. “What time is it?”

“It’s just after midnight. Everyone else went home. Splatt and Tuna, Captain Dawson…just about everyone from the Coyote flight line was here earlier. Even Petty Officer Heilmuller.” She rolled her eyes and smiled. “She was actually here the longest.” Sedona didn’t tell Angel the other woman had left less than an hour earlier. She’d seemed determined to be at Angel’s side when he regained consciousness, insisting he’d want to see a friendly face. Sedona was certain her own less-than-friendly demeanor had finally driven her away. “I—I couldn’t leave.” Sedona swallowed and dropped her gaze. “I wanted to be with you.”

His fingers squeezed hers, and when she looked up, his eyes were warm. “I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk.”

Sedona shook her head and laid two fingers across his lips. “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to say anything. You were right about everything. I’m a complete coward. About us, about my life…about everything.” To her horror, tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. “You’re a phenomenal pilot, Angel. Nobody could have done what you did up there today.” She swallowed hard. “The navy needs guys like you.”

“And what about you,
mina?
Do you need a guy like me?”

“Angel…don’t.” Her voice broke.

“Come here.”

She didn’t protest when he pulled her hard across his chest and enclosed her in the warmth of his arms. Her face lay buried against his neck and she breathed in his scent and savored the feel of him against her.