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Brad prepared himself for the rage that immediately followed.
“Get your ass to Roswell, Hawkins. And do it now,” the voice of authority yelled from across the room. “And don’t step foot in my office again until you have this whole mess straightened out!”
After a quick salute Brad hurried from his commander’s office, already suspecting, however, that his new assignment would be his own personal version of Mission Impossible.
MADDIE CONTINUED TO PULL away every time Sergeant Baker tried to take her arm. “I’m perfectly capable of walking unassisted,” she told him in a frosty tone that should have turned the big goon into an ice sculpture.
“Just following orders,” Baker mumbled.
“Well, as far as I’m concerned your orders are every bit as ridiculous as you bailing out of the air to capture me like some common criminal,” Maddie huffed.
“You were trespassing,” Baker reminded her.
“And exactly what penalty does trespassing carry in the Air Force, Sergeant Baker? Does the rule book say jump out of the sky and pounce on your trespasser? Shove them facedown with their arms held behind them? Bruise and batter them? Does it say shoot those pesky trespassers if they dare try to run away?”
Baker didn’t answer. Instead he continued to shepherd her along in a lumbering fashion while looking straight ahead.
“And why is your captain so concerned about someone else seeing me?” Maddie grumbled when the man towering above her stopped only long enough to look up and down a long hallway before forcibly taking her arm again and steering her down the hall.
Again, Maddie wrenched her arm free, then sent a wistful look back over her shoulder. As luck would have it, they hadn’t seen a single soul since they’d emerged from the strange aircraft they’d been riding in. If they had, Maddie would have screamed bloody murder and begged for someone to rescue her. She even thought of screaming now, but the threat of being slammed to the floor again by a guy with the build of a professional wrestler kept her silent.
The big bully! Maddie thought with a frown.
Both of her knees were scraped, probably even bleeding, and it would be weeks before the skin grew back on her right elbow. And though it briefly occurred to Maddie that her injuries were mainly due to her own kicking and struggling, she much preferred to blame those injuries on her overgrown chaperone.
“Could it be possible Captain Hawkins told you to be so secretive about my existence because he knows keeping me against my will is totally illegal?” Maddie piped up again. “Tell me the truth, Sergeant Baker. Do the two of you routinely swoop down and pluck innocent women out of the desert and spirit them away to your private living quarters? Is Captain Hawkins the brains behind some type of illegal love slave trade the two of you have going on out here in the desert?”
Again, Sergeant Baker didn’t answer, but her whimsical assessment of the situation quickly filled Maddie’s mind with thoughts of what it might be like if Captain Hawkins did hold her captive as his love slave.
Would he be the type of man to aggressively force her into submission? Never, Maddie told herself, though her heart betrayed her and skipped a beat at the possibility of such unfamiliar excitement. Or would the hunky captain lure her into his arms with gentle whispers of the tantalizing things he planned to do to her while they made slow, unhurried love?
Oh, yeah. That would undoubtedly be his style.
In fact, her interaction with him so far left no doubt he was a man of few words, but exceedingly quick in the action department. Like the way his eyes had traveled daringly over her body when she’d made the mistake of asking him to take a good look at her. His intense gaze had left her breathless.
You idiot! Maddie scolded, when her apparently sex-starved mind began wandering again. And then she asked herself, Why on earth am I having these bizarre thoughts now?
She was an educated woman. A woman with the ability to stay completely focused on her career—a career that, thanks to Captain Fantasy, had possibly been sabotaged. Yet now, she was suddenly daydreaming about being this man’s love slave.
It was completely unlike her.
Totally preposterous!
Yet, so was her current situation.
For all practical purposes, she might as well have been spirited off to another planet, Maddie reasoned. Educated and focused or not, she was totally out of her element. Could she really expect herself to act normal? Expect to remain calm and collected when she’d lost complete control of the situation?
And, of course, there was also that stupid prediction Mary Beth had made earlier about some guy knocking her feet out from under her. That had to be what was jinxing her now and turning her into some wide-eyed silly twit because some hunky soldier had paid a little attention to her.
Damn you, Mary Beth.
But thinking about her sister also made Maddie wonder what her poor twin’s fate had been. She was certain Mary Beth had to have seen the soldier jump out of the aircraft and seize her. Was it possible Mary Beth was already in the commander’s office now pleading for her release? Or had Mary Beth gone back to Roswell to enlist the help of local authorities?
Which might not be a good thing, Maddie reminded herself with a frown. The local sheriff probably wouldn’t be any more lenient about her trespassing than the captain had been. A convicted felon certainly wouldn’t be a prime candidate for a federally-funded research team. Although making the research team was the least of her worries at the moment. Thanks to her own stupidity, she could possibly end up with a new wardrobe of striped prison clothes and staring out at the world from behind bars.
Maddie was still mentally kicking herself for being such an idiot when Sergeant Baker stopped in front of a door, opened it and pushed her inside a darkened room.
She blinked when he switched on the light.
The captain’s living quarters were certainly nothing like the barracks Maddie had seen portrayed on TV and in the movies. “How does Captain Hawkins rate his own suite at this inn?” Maddie wondered aloud.
As usual, Baker refused to answer.
She took another look around the room. The accommodations certainly weren’t elaborate. The walls were cement blocks and painted a puke-green, and to her dismay there wasn’t a window in sight. The main room was large enough for a sitting area, but the love seat and matching recliner had seen better days. A sagging bookshelf to her left held a TV, VCR and what looked like a CD player. A metal table and two metal folding chairs sat on the opposite side of the room. There was also a small apartment-size refrigerator. Instead of the standard military-issue cot, Maddie could see a double bed in an adjoining room.
She assumed the closed door off the bedroom led to the captain’s private bath. And a bathroom was certainly something she could use at the moment. Not only was she covered in dust and grime from head to toe, but her scrapes and scratches shouldn’t go long without attention. The way her luck had been going, gangrene could set in at any moment.
Maddie glanced at her bodyguard. “Does Captain Hawkins have his own private bath?”
“Off the bedroom.”
“And may I use that facility?”
Baker nodded.
“Alone?”
Baker blushed.
“Don’t you need to search the bathroom first?” Maddie jeered. “Make sure I can’t shimmy out a window or something?”
She’d only been joking, but to her surprise Baker motioned her in the direction of the bathroom. Only when they were standing side by side and peering into the small bathroom did he nod his approval. “Help yourself,” Baker said with a goofy smile. “I didn’t think there were any windows in this old block building, but thanks for reminding me to check it out.”
“You aren’t welcome!” Maddie stomped inside the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. She could hear the sergeant chuckling to himself as the sound of his footsteps left the bedroom. It irritated her that the big buffoon thought the situation was funny, but at least he’d had the decency to allow her a little privacy. Reaching down, Maddie locked the bathroom door just to be safe, then stood staring at herself in the small mirror above the sink.
Completely covered in dirt, Maddie decided she looked like one of those old Vaudeville comedians in black face makeup.
“God, I’m a mess.” She bent forward and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. The sand that peppered the basin made her yearn for a hot shower. The thought of stripping naked in the captain’s private bathroom, however, made Maddie more than a little apprehensive. Especially with the off-the-wall scenarios that seemed to spring to mind every time she thought about the handsome devil.
Like now.
Maddie could picture herself waterlogged and withered after spending hours waiting naked under a spray of water that had long since grown cold. Waiting. Hoping. Praying her mysterious kidnapper would finally burst into the bathroom to see if she had somehow managed to escape. He would throw back the curtain and grin wickedly when she only halfheartedly tried to cover herself. And then he would step into the shower with her and pull her naked, quivering body…
You, my dear, are a certifiable nut case!
Hoping to cool herself off from that mental image, Maddie jerked a towel from the towel bar, wet it thoroughly, then mopped it slowly over her dust-splattered face. The amount of grime and dirt she was leaving behind on his own personal towel made her smile.
After cleansing her injuries as best she could with a basin-type bath, Maddie studied the medicine cabinet above the sink. She had never been one of those nosey people who secretly went through other people’s medicine cabinets.
But under the circumstances?
Well, it was the captain’s own fault she needed medical supplies, she reasoned.
Boldly reaching out, Maddie opened the door and peered inside. The usual male toiletries stared back at her. His toothbrush and toothpaste told her even a big, strong soldier like him was just as concerned about the threat of gingivitis as everyone else. There was a can of shaving foam and a fancy-looking razor for that heavy stubble she had noticed earlier. And he evidently preferred aftershave to cologne, though his brand wasn’t cheap; Ralph Lauren would have been proud. Picking up the bottle, Maddie’s intention was to take a quick sniff.
She froze the second she saw the box of condoms.
Shoving the bottle back in place, Maddie slammed the cabinet door and stood staring into the mirror wondering how such a promising day had turned crazy on such short notice.
Instead of aliens, an overzealous Air Force Captain had snatched her out of the desert, destroyed her precious film and was holding her captive in his own private living quarters. Yet, was she fearing for her own safety? Was she worrying that her abductor might be summoning up just cause to put her behind bars?
Nope. She wasn’t even thinking up ways she might strangle Captain Hawkins for all the trouble he had caused her. Instead Maddie’s newly liberated mind kept flirting with the possibility of how much fun it might be to wrangle him out of those camouflage fatigues purely for her own pleasure and amusement.
“Who are you?” Maddie demanded of her reflection.
She hurried from the bathroom when the woman Maddie no longer recognized sent back an imaginary wink from the captain’s bathroom mirror.
BRAD STEELED HIMSELF against the long stream of curse words coming from his commander’s bared lips. With a grimace, Brad said, “With your permission, sir, I’ll beef up security. Now that the sister has involved the local authorities, it’s only a matter of time until the media starts questioning whether we’re really out here on routine maneuvers as we claim.”
“Well, let them question all they want,” Gibbons bellowed. “Just don’t let anyone step foot on this base.”
Brad nodded, feeling completely chastised.
The old man, as he was respectfully called by the men who served under him, had asked for Brad specifically on this final assignment that would take Gibbons into retirement at the end of the year. Brad knew the request had been made mainly out of respect for his father who had saved Gibbons’s life in Vietnam before being killed himself in a surprise attack. Brad had only been six years old at the time, but he’d been old enough to vow that, in memory of his father, he would become one of the best helicopter pilots the United States Air Force had to offer.
At thirty-four, Brad had achieved that goal by never allowing anyone or anything stand in the way of his mission.
“How soon do you think we can demobilize and move this operation?” Gibbons spoke up, jarring Brad back from memories he usually kept at bay.
“Three days. Tops,” Brad told him, still saddened that thanks to him, Gibbons’s exit from the military wasn’t going to be an easy one. “I’m just not sure how we’ll go about getting the Black Ghost out of here with a bunch of reporters watching our every move.”
Gibbons dragged a hand over his weatherworn face before his black eyes flashed in Brad’s direction. Though now in his sixties, he still resembled the young officer in the old photograph sitting on his desk. It was a photo Gibbons took with him everywhere he went. A group of young pilots, including Brad’s father, stood with arms slung around each other’s shoulders, squinting into the sun. Brad’s eyes rested fondly on the picture of his dad for a moment, then back to the photo of Gibbons. Same alert eyes, Brad noted. Same crew cut, though now the old man’s hair was completely gray. Same ability, Brad knew, to make split-second decisions without so much as the blink of the eye.
“We don’t have much choice,” Gibbons finally said, diverting Brad’s attention away from the photo and back to him. “We’ll take the Black Ghost out of here the same way we had to bring that spy plane back from China when we got our ass in a crack. We’ll dismantle and ship the sucker one piece at a time.”
“I’m really sorry, sir. About everything,” Brad said with a sigh of resignation. “Unfortunately we’re in an age of instant communication. Now that the sister is in Roswell yelling alien abduction, every news crew in the nation will pick up the story.”
“Bastards,” Gibbons swore. “Always shoving a camera in somebody’s face. Hell-bent on sensationalism.”
“I hate to say it, but the public is just as much at fault,” Brad mused. “Look at all those reality shows that have become so popular on television today.”
“Well, your damn reality is going to be keeping that professor quiet until we can get the hell out of here,” Gibbons said, suddenly angry all over again. “I’d intended to threaten those women with serious charges and send them on their way, but that isn’t possible now.”
Brad tensed. “Exactly what are you saying, sir?”
Gibbons pounded his desk in his usual pay attention style. “I’m saying we’ll have to keep the professor here until we can move our operation. After that, she can talk to the media all she wants. Once the evidence is gone, there’ll be nothing left to confirm her story.”
Keep her? Brad’s mind yelled in protest.
But that was crazy. They were on a temporary assignment, camped out at an old base that was virtually vacant most of the time. They didn’t have any military police here, much less any type of jail cell where they could house his accidental prisoner.
“But, sir, that’s impossible. If we keep her, then all hell will surely break loose. The local sheriff is bound to call in the FBI.”
“I’ll make a few calls to Washington,” Gibbons said, obviously unconcerned about the FBI. “It’s the damn media and the local-yokels who’ll give us a problem.”
“But, sir…”
Gibbons pointed a stern finger in Brad’s direction, and Brad didn’t miss the menacing twinkle in the old man’s eye when he said, “The way I see it, you grabbed her. Now, you baby-sit her.”
Under different circumstances, Brad would have shouted hallelujah at such an appealing opportunity. Baby-sit her? Hell, yes, he’d like to baby-sit her if the timing was right. He’d give those pouting Southern Belle lips of hers something to pout about. Like tempting her and teasing her until she realized there were much more exciting things in life than chasing butterflies across the desert.
But now?
When their entire top secret mission was in jeopardy? How could he possibly baby-sit the professor and make sure the Black Ghost was safely out of harm’s way?
“But keep her where, sir?” Brad finally summoned the courage to ask. “We can’t take the chance of letting anyone else even know she’s here.”
“Didn’t you say you had Baker take her to your living quarters?”
“Well, yeah, but what do you expect me to do with her?”
“You’re asking me that question?” the old man said with a laugh. “You? Mr. Love ’em and Leave ’em is actually telling me he doesn’t know how to keep a lady occupied for three short days? Cut the crap, boy. I know better.”
Brad flinched. Maybe he did have a reputation with the ladies. If a lady wanted a friend, he could be a loyal one. If she wanted a fun date, he was her man. A little sex? Sure, he could be persuaded to rise to the occasion.
However, it wasn’t likely Dr. Morgan would be interested in him, period. She was already fit to be tied over him destroying her film. But if Brad had to inform her that the two of them were going to be confined to his living quarters for the next three days? Hell, he’d come closer getting to first base with an angry barracuda than he would with the comely professor.
“We’re not talking about some lady I’m taking on a date here, sir. We’re talking about me keeping a highly educated woman in my own bedroom against her will. Aren’t you concerned about the lawsuit she’s bound to bring against us when we do let her go?”
Gibbons grinned. “What’s the matter? Afraid the professor is too smart for your usual lady-killer charm?”
Brad frowned. “I’m saying this isn’t your typical situation.”
“Damn right this isn’t your typical situation!” Gibbons boomed. “So the typical rules don’t apply. Got it?”
“But, sir…”
“Handle it, Hawkins.”
“How? Keep the professor handcuffed to me for the next three days?”
His outburst sparked another threatening gleam in the old man’s eye. “Hand me my briefcase.”
Brad obeyed his order. Gibbons searched through his briefcase for several seconds, then eventually produced a set of steel-gray handcuffs. Brad caught them easily when Gibbons threw the cuffs in his direction. A second later, Gibbons tossed Brad a key.
“I knew those would come in handy one day,” Gibbons said with a lopsided grin. “I took them from a snotty M.P. in Saigon one night when he tried to arrest me and your father for disturbing the peace. We’d just flown fourteen helicopter missions straight through the bowels of hell. We both decided no M.P. with a cushy security job was going to do anything but give us the respect we deserved. I took his cuffs away from him, and your father stuffed him in a trash can outside the bar. It still makes me laugh when I think about it.”
Brad wasn’t laughing. “And you really expect me to use these?”
