Conrad tugged at the sleeves of his blues jacket before being shown into Colonel Duke Cameron’s office. He recognized the woman who was leaving as he arrived; he just couldn’t place her. Damn, he was getting old.
“Good to see you,” Cameron said.
“You too. Who was that who just left? I think I recognize her.” Conrad took the offered chair in front of Cameron’s desk.
“That was Casey Jacobs. You probably ran into her at a previous Red Flag when she was an MC-130J pilot. She left a couple of years ago and got a job with TGO,” Cameron said, straightening the pens on his desk.
“Oh, I see. Yes, maybe that’s where I know her from. So, she’s TGO now?”
Cameron regarded him steadily from across the desk. “Yes, she is. Why?”
It was now or never. “My weapons officer, Major Malden, has been taken into custody by TGO. Do you know anything about that?” Conrad leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and trying not to grip his hands too tightly together.
Cameron sighed. “I heard. That had nothing to do with me. General Daniels gave the order, and TGO carried it out. Although, I will say that what he’s asked for—house arrest—isn’t exactly legal under the uniform code of military justice.”
“What does that mean?” Conrad asked.
“It means that she’s confined to barracks, but there’s no actual law that says she has to stay there.” Colonel Cameron swiveled in his chair and gazed out his window. “I don’t know for sure, but I suspect that General Daniels was trying to give her a little leeway without alerting TGO.”
Conrad took a breath and prepared himself for the moment he put his career, and Missy’s, on the line. “Can we speak off the record?” he asked.
“As long as you are not confessing to a crime,” Cameron replied with a slight smile.
Conrad hesitated. In some respects he was confessing to a crime.
At his hesitation, Cameron frowned and closed his eyes. “Tell me you had nothing to do with this.”
“Oh God no! Of course I didn’t. But neither did Major Malden.” Conrad looked to his hands, and then sat back in his seat and held Cameron’s gaze steadily.
“And how exactly do you know that?”
“Well, firstly, I know her. I’ve flown with her for years. I know she would never do anything that has been suggested she might do. And secondly”—he closed his eyes briefly—“she was with me most of the night.”
Cameron frowned. “Well, why didn’t you say so to begin with?”
Conrad stared at him meaningfully and raised his eyebrows.
Awareness washed over Cameron’s expression. “Oh. You mean she was with you.”
“Yes,” he said. His heart started racing, wondering what the colonel’s reaction would be.
“You’re having a relationship with your weapons officer? How long has it been going on?” Cameron leaned forward and again, arranged and rearranged the pens on his desk, to the nearest millimeter.
“I’m not…I wasn’t…We’re not having a relationship.” For fuck’s sake. Why was he suddenly stammering like a teenager? “It was the first time we’d…” He let his voice trail off.
“Sweet Jesus. You were with her all night?”
“Let me start at the beginning.” Conrad took a breath and told him everything he knew about TGO—especially the man who had followed Missy into the hotel—plus the golf cart in the hangar, and about the lipstick graffiti on Eleanor’s aircraft. He couldn’t believe he had only just remembered that. And then he confessed that Missy had left his bed before he awoke.
Cameron nodded, and that morphed into him shaking his head at Conrad. “So really you’ve got nothing, except somebody writing ‘bitch’ on Eleanor’s aircraft, TGO employees in a hangar—for which, until we find Eleanor Daniels, you only have Major Malden’s word for—and a TGO employee going into lodging at the same time as her. It’s hardly concrete.”
This was exactly why Missy hadn’t spoken up herself. Conrad dropped his head for a second and then nodded.
“I have Major Malden’s file here,” Cameron said. “What can you tell me about her parents or her family?”
Conrad was taken aback. “I don’t…Nothing, really.” He kicked himself again. Why didn’t he know anything about her background?
“What about anything that happened to her before she enlisted?” Cameron asked.
“You mean commissioned, not enlisted. She is an officer.” Conrad’s patience was nearing its end.
“No, I mean enlisted. She was given a choice at the age of seventeen: enlist in the military or go to juvie.”
He sat back in his chair, aghast. How did he not know this about her? He didn’t even know who she really was. He’d never asked her about her family, or school, or her degree. Nothing. He really didn’t know her at all.
“She had a hard life before the air force,” Cameron said, tapping one of his meticulously placed pens on Missy’s file. “She worked hard, got a degree, and was commissioned as a second lieutenant. You’ve only known her for the past four years of her life. You have no idea what she is capable of, and neither do I. So don’t go putting your career, or your liberty, on the line for someone you don’t seem to know that well.” He stood and opened his office door. “I think we can both carefully consider what we’ve heard today, can’t we, Colonel?”
Conrad stood quickly, tugged at his sleeves again, and left, pausing only to say, “Yes, sir.” He strode out of Cameron’s office, kicking himself. It was exactly as Missy had anticipated.
Missy. How had he known so little about her? Why hadn’t she talked about her past? Why had she kept him in the dark for all these years? The truth was, he didn’t know anything about her at all, and despite it being his fault, it was beginning to freak him out.
As he walked past other airmen, saluting and offering a morning greeting to each, he couldn’t help but notice that everyone was taking this accident personally. No one smiled; no one looked happy, or lighthearted, or even distracted.
He wished he could join the Animal’s posse. Nothing would clear his mind and make him feel better than leaving the base and going to look for Eleanor and Dex. If push came to shove, he would smuggle Missy out of Nellis and…He didn’t know what would happen after that. Going on the run sounded a little unstructured to him.
Sergeant Cripps was loitering outside the lodging when Conrad walked up. “Sir, they’re taking Major Malden to the MP’s office to be questioned. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. Is there anyone there…” How could he put this to an enlisted man?
“…who can help you? Who’s not in TGO’s pocket? Sure. Sergeant April Heron. She’ll tell you what’s going on.” Cripps wrote her name on his notebook and tore out the page to give him.
“April Heron. Got it. Thanks.” General Patton was right: enlisted men are cunning and should be watched. For the first time in what felt like ages, he smiled.
Missy and Colonel Janke were staring at each other in her holding cell. She knew she’d made the right call. He was supposed to be her JAG—her advocate—and yet he was threatening her? Why was he looking so panicked? “I want a new JAG,” she repeated.
His fists clenched by his side, and she wondered if she’d gone so far down the insubordination road that she wouldn’t be able to make her way back. But she held her ground, and his gaze.
“Why don’t you just tell me the extent of the conversation Major Daniels shared with you? The one she had with her father. What did she say happened?” The slight manic look in his eyes didn’t invite the sharing of confidences. Who was this man?
This was about Eleanor and her father? About the conversation she’d had about the men in the hangar?
Several things clicked into place inside her brain. But she knew enough not to give anything away.
He picked up her file from the table and left without a word, slamming the door, making her jump.
What the hell was going on here?
Whatever it was had to do with the men she’d seen in their hangar the first evening of Red Flag—when she and Eleanor had been shooting the shit about men and other pilots. It had been only two days ago, but already it felt like another lifetime.
A female sergeant came to escort her back to her room in the stale-smelling barracks. When she opened the door for her, Missy’s mouth dropped open. Instead of the cot bed, there was a proper bed—made with sheets and a blanket and a proper pillow. There was a jug of water and a glass on top of a chest of drawers.
“I got someone to bring some essentials for you. I don’t care what TGO says; there is a minimum level of care we offer to people confined to barracks,” the sergeant said.
“Thank you so much. What’s your name, Sergeant?”
“April Heron, ma’am. Just shout if you need anything.” The woman turned away and closed the door behind her.
Missy looked into the chest of drawers. Someone had brought her PT clothes, an extra uniform, and her underwear. A towel and her washbag were in the second drawer, and in the third was another washbag. She frowned. Had they accidentally packed Eleanor’s bag too?
She pulled it out and opened it. Inside was her Kindle, her phone, and her charger that fit both, two Twinkies, some pretzels, some jerky, and…She closed her eyes. Someone had packed a brand-new vibrator for her. Conrad, of course. At least she hoped so. Not that she wanted to see him, but the thought of someone else putting it there was just plain creepy. Where the hell had he gotten that on lockdown?
She unwrapped a Twinkie and picked up her phone—it was dead. She plugged it in and ate the disgusting, delicious, sweet treat in two mouthfuls. Within seconds her phone started bleeping with notifications. Most were notifications from Facebook friends. One wasn’t.
>> I’m coming to get you at lights-out.
It was from Conrad, and literally the first message on her phone from him that didn’t just consist of the time for their flight briefing. It was the only time he’d actually used his words.
How had he gone from zero to a hundred in the space of a day? How had she? She was still pissed at him, though. He was still the self-absorbed guy who had put him and his own career ahead of hers. And that’s assuming he thought about her career at all.
A tiny part of her considered fleeing for the first time since she was seventeen. When the judge had given the choice between military boot camp and detention, she’d considered running. She’d had nothing and no one to stay for, and just about everything she owned could have fit in her backpack. Even now she was surprised, and thankful, that she’d made a different choice. She was going to make that same choice again. She was going to choose herself, her career, the air force, and everything she’d worked toward. She wasn’t going to cave and run from something she didn’t do. For a mistake.
It wasn’t a mistake. You did this to yourself by breaking the rules. None of this would be happening if you’d kept your head down and your hands off Conrad.
She lay on her new bed and pushed out a deep sigh. It was so much more comfortable than the cot from last night. She had a lot of questions for Conrad. A lot of stuff that she would have to get him to do. She had a plan.
Kind of. She picked up her Kindle and tried to read, but her brain refused to leave the possibility that she would be sent to jail for the rest of her life.