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‘You better find someone else,’ said Danny. ‘At least for a couple of days.’
‘Colonel?’
‘Is she essential for the deployment?’ asked Dog.
‘Not essential. But –’
‘At this point, I think Danny’s right. Once Colonel Cortend is finished talking to her I’m sure she’ll be fine to come back.’
Two hours later, Dog finally finished squaring away everything that needed to be squared away before he left with the rest of the team for Brunei. He needed to get sleep – if takeoff time didn’t slip, he’d be briefing his flight in a couple of hours. But more important than sleep, he wanted to talk to Jennifer.
He wanted to call her. In theory, there was no reason not to.
It might not look good, however, not if there had been a real violation of security protocols. As unit commander, he would eventually have to deal with the matter.
He could recuse himself, of course. Probably he had to.
Or just put an end to the whole thing.
No doubt if he did that, Dreamland’s enemies would seize on it as ammunition for something – what exactly, he wasn’t sure.
He reached for the phone. No harm in calling her, for cryin’ out loud.
He dialed the lab but then remembered that she had no computer access; Danny had had to cut it off as soon as he learned about the possible security breach, as minor as it was. He paused, trying to remember her apartment number without going to the directory.
When he dialed it, her voice mail answered.
Maybe she was taking this harder than he thought.
Or maybe she was out partying.
Before Dog could leave a message, there was a knock on the door. He looked up and saw Colonel Cortend spreading her frown across the threshhold, trailed by a Dreamland security team and several of her aides. He put down the phone and waved her inside.
‘Captain Freah said you’d be here,’ said Cortend, sitting in the chair nearest his desk.
‘I often am,’ said Dog. ‘I understand you’ve been questioning my people.’
‘I’ve questioned several of your people, yes. On an informal basis. They’ve all volunteered to cooperate.’
Dog let that particular fiction pass.
‘Let’s get to the marrow on this,’ said Cortend. ‘There’s no need for fencing.’
‘I’m a right-to-the-marrow guy myself,’ said Dog. He slid back in his seat, knowing that Cortend had come to ask about Jennifer.
And perhaps exactly because that thought occurred to him, he glanced toward the door and saw her standing behind Cortend’s aides, frozen, as if she’d taken a step inside before spotting them.
Was she really there? Or was it some strange trick of his imagination.
‘Lieutenant Colonel Bastian,’ snapped Cortend.
‘Excuse me a second,’ said Dog, rising. He turned his attention to Cortend for just a moment as he got up, and by the time he looked back at the door she was gone.
Gone?
Dog walked out into the outer office, past the reception area and then into the hall.
It was empty. The elevator was open.
Hallucination?
No, she’d definitely been here. Somewhere.
Jen would have taken the stairs. She’d seen Cortend’s people or the back of her head, and split.
Wise move, really. Too bad he couldn’t do that.
Dog walked back to his office. This time he pulled the door closed behind him.
‘Sorry about that. Where were we?’
‘You are seeing Ms. Gleason, are you not?’
‘I don’t think that’s any of your business.’
‘Colonel, let me remind you – ‘
‘I’m not denying that I see her. But for the record, my personal life is my personal life.’
‘Ms. Gleason is a civilian employee under your supervision,’ said Cortend. ‘As a matter of law and regulation, it would be possible for her to charge you with sexual harassment.’
‘Has she?’ said Dog.
‘She has not.’
‘You don’t really think she’s a spy, do you?’ he said, tiring of her games. His voice was considerably more level than he felt.
‘I try not to form judgments before I finish my job,’ said Cortend. ‘I understand the situation might be difficult for you.’
‘And?’
‘I have a number of technical questions that I’d like answered,’ said Cortend, completely changing the subject.
Capitulation?
Or another one of her tactics?
‘They have to do with compartmented areas, and I need to know what can be broached and what can’t be,’ Cortend continued. ‘If you wish, it can wait until morning.’
She didn’t get up, and it was clear she wouldn’t until he answered the questions.
‘I have orders from the President. We’re deploying at 0400.’
If Cortend was impressed, she gave no hint.
‘We’ll discuss it informally first,’ she told him. ‘Then I can bring my people in. I want to be careful to delineate the areas, as my report will be read by –’
A knock at the door interrupted her.
‘Come,’ said Dog.
Mack Smith opened the door. The major looked a little tired, walking rather than bounding as he normally did. When he saw Cortend he blanched.
‘You wanted to see me, Colonel?’
‘Yes, come in, Mack. Colonel, this will only take a minute.’
‘Of course,’ said Cortend, getting up. As she left, she gave Mack the look one might use to dismiss a whipped dog.
‘Watch her, Colonel,’ said Mack as the door was closed. ‘She’s evil.’
‘I’m sure she’s just doing her job,’ Dog said.
‘No.’
Mack didn’t offer any other explanation. Dog decided it wasn’t worth pursuing – it was pretty clear that Cortend got off on intimidating people. Smith ordinarily wasn’t easy to intimidate; maybe he’d ask her for some pointers when she came back in.
That would be the day.
‘I need a political officer,’ Dog told Mack. ‘A liaison, actually.’
‘How’s that?’ asked Mack.
‘We’re deploying to Brunei, first thing in the morning,’ Dog told him. ‘I’ll go into details if you’re in. Otherwise, good night.’
‘Colonel, is she coming?’
‘Colonel Cortend? No. Her investigation’s here.’
‘Sign me up,’ said Mack, so relieved he looked as if he’d won the lottery.
‘We have to leave at 0400.’
‘Whatever. I’ll scrub toilets if you need it. Just take me with you.’
Dreamland Personnel Building Two 2105
By the time she got back to her apartment, Jennifer’s hands were shaking so badly that she had trouble with the lock. Inside, she dropped her glass as she filled it with water from the faucet in the kitchenette; fortunately, it was plastic and didn’t break, rebounding instead across the room.
The expression on his face when he saw her – anger and surprise …
Hate?
No, he couldn’t hate her. He couldn’t.
Did he think she was a traitor? How could he think that?
What had Dog been doing with that she-bitch Cortend? Had he put her up to this?
Dog?
It couldn’t possibly be. There was no way. No way.
But Cortend was in his office.
Of course she was. Dog was the base commander; there were a million reasons for her to be there.
Dog, everyone, thought she was a traitor.
She was just tired, overwrought.
The bitch Cortend was playing with her mind.
Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
She wasn’t a traitor. She wasn’t.
That had to be what they were thinking. Even Dog?
Even him.
The phone rang. Jennifer took a step toward it, then stopped.
What if it was Cortend, asking for more questions?
God no, she told herself. No more. Not tonight.
She let the phone ring until it stopped. As she stared at it, she realized her hand and shirt were wet, and so was the floor, but she couldn’t remember why.
II (#ulink_d5d36115-45b4-5741-815a-d83c6d634456)
Paradise (#ulink_d5d36115-45b4-5741-815a-d83c6d634456)
Negra Brunei Darussalam (Kingdom of Brunei, Abode of Peace) 9 September 1997, 0900
‘A couple of hours in paradise and already you’re sleeping late,’ Zen told Lieutenant Kirk ‘Starship’ Andrews as the young Flighthawk pilot sat down at the table across from him. Starship’s breakfast tray contained two large cups of coffee and nothing else.
‘My body’s still back in Dreamland,’ mumbled Starship.
