The digital read-out said 5:45. Cammy flipped her pillow over. The cool linen did little to relieve her hot skin and the dull ache developing just behind her eyes. She reached up to massage her forehead and realized it was damp. She often woke up with headaches. She didn’t know if a headache caused her bad dreams or if the all too familiar image of a burning plane crashing to earth brought on the headache.
In her dream, a missile blows up her father’s plane. In her lab, the missile never gets blown up. She stretched, pushed the nightmare from her mind and then remembered yesterday’s dire developments. Still no definitive word on Melanie’s long-term prognosis. Then, in her lab, even with Raj’s help, her simulations weren’t working. The general had sent around a memo setting the date for a field test. Stan Bollinger had requested yet another review of various departmental budgets and reminded her about next week’s board meeting. And there had evidently been no progress in the search for the guy who was after her.
Hunt had come home late and was preoccupied in his library with plans for his trip to India. All in all, it had been a pretty lousy twenty-four hours, and it didn’t look like things would improve any time soon. Even the weather was dismal, with intermittent rain squalls blowing branches against the house again.
She looked toward the window where slivers of light from the street lamps seeped through the Venetian blinds, projecting a series of luminous tightropes on the wall. As she stared at the lines, she imagined herself trying to balance first on one, then on another. This is a useless exercise.
She turned on the bedside lamp, grabbed her robe and stumbled into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, splashed cold water on her face and peered into the mirror. Her hair was tangled. She fumbled in her make-up kit for her brush and tried to tame the unruly strands. She could make herself more presentable later. Right now she needed coffee.
She crept down the stairs and into the kitchen, trying not to wake up Hunt. She walked over to the counter, filled the pot, found the coffee and filters in the cupboard and turned on the coffeemaker. There were a couple of English muffins in the refrigerator. She pulled them out, along with some margarine and jam. As the coffee was perking, she heard a shuffling sound on the stairs.
She turned and saw him standing there, barefoot, in a navy terry-cloth robe, running a hand through his tousled hair.
“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” He said in a slightly hoarse voice.
“Not really. So I figured I might as well get the coffee started.”
He sauntered over and touched her cheek. “You okay?”
“I guess,” she said absently. “Just a few bad dreams on top of everything else.”
“Yeah. I know how it is. Sorry I was so busy last night. I just . . .”
“Hey, you’re not my baby sitter. Besides, I know you’ve got a lot to do.” She paused for a moment. “You’re leaving tonight.”
“Yes. And things are piling up.” He took two mugs out of a cabinet and started to pour the coffee. “Glad you made this. By the way, one of the guys at work told me a funny story about making coffee.”
“Tell me,” she said, accepting the cup and taking it to the kitchen table. “I could use something funny right about now.”
“It’s pretty stupid, but as you say, we both could probably use a laugh once in a while. Anyway, it was about how this couple was arguing over who should make the coffee. The wife says to the husband, ‘Since you always get up first, you should brew it.’ Then the guy says, ‘No. Cooking is your job, so you make it. I’ll just wait.’ Then she says, ‘No, you should do it. And besides it says so in the Bible.’ And he says, ‘Don’t be silly. It doesn’t say that in the Bible. Show me.’ And so she goes and gets the Bible and opens it and shows him that at the top of a bunch of pages, it says . . . Hebrews.”
In spite of her mood, Cammy had to chuckle. “Not bad. You usually do make me feel better, you know that?” And starting tonight, there’ll be nobody around who can do that.
“At your service, my lady. Say do you want one of these muffins?”
“Sure, thanks.”
They shared their breakfast, talked about plans for the day and cleared the dishes. “I’d better go take a shower,” Cammy said, heading toward the stairs.
“Wait a minute,” Hunt said. “Come in the library. Let me show you the computer set-up. Since the bastard stole yours, you can use mine while I’m gone. I mean, I know you’ve got nothing but computers at your lab, but I was just thinking that when you’re here alone, you might want to do your personal stuff. Email, bills, whatever.”
“Uh, that would be great,” she said, following him down the hall.
“Let me just check my email here, and then I’ll show you the rest.”
She stood behind him and watched as he turned on the computer, clicked on “Outlook” and keyed in his password. It was a series of numbers that she automatically committed to memory. Computers, numbers, and passwords were her business. She worked with them all day long. She always seemed to remember the check lists, the algorithms, the ones that worked and the ones that didn’t. It was all second nature to her.
He glanced at the list of a dozen emails and then ended the program. He turned to her and said, “Nothing I have to deal with right now. There are a lot of things here. Everything’s pretty obvious to you, right?”
She looked at the various icons on the blue screen. “No problem. I can access my email through your browser. I may try to do that later.”
“Okay. Now I guess we both need to get ready. I’m sorry I have to leave tonight. I mean, with that guy chasing you around town.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I always tell the drivers to go home a different way. And look, I really appreciate being able to stay here for a while, but I’ve been thinking it might be safer to stay in different places from time to time. Like I said before, maybe I should check into a hotel.”
“No way. We’ve had this conversation before, remember? You stay here until I get back,” he said.
He was standing next to her, but suddenly she felt lonely. Abandoned. Frightened. She realized she was going to miss this man. “When will you be back? Do you have any idea?”
“Not sure yet. We leave late tonight . . . I’ll head out to Andrews from the office, so I won’t see you. It’s a pretty long trip to New Delhi.”
“How long?”
“About twenty hours or so. We’ll be stopping to refuel. Then when we get there we’ve got back-to-back meetings lined up at the Defense Ministry. Then if we make any progress in setting up the talks, we may head over to Islamabad to nail down Pakistan’s part in the whole deal.”
“What about the missiles?”
“They’re first on my list of things to talk to Indian Intelligence about. We’d sure like to find those babies before somebody decides to shoot off another one.”
She walked over to him and put her hand on his arm. “Please be careful.”
He looked down at her hand and then into her eyes. Almost in slow motion, he gathered her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. It was gentle at first. Then as he deepened the kiss, she heard a slight moan. She didn’t know if it came from him or from her.
He framed her face with his hands and stared down at her. “I know this is all happening pretty fast, but I already feel I know you, and you’re the one I worry about, not me,” he whispered. “I’ll get back as soon as I can. Maybe a week. Maybe two. I’ll call you.”
She pulled back and tried to smile. That sure was fast. Nice though. “Okay. On the blue cell phone?”
“Yes, that one. Keep it with you. And keep it on. There’s a charger on the desk. It should last a day or two.” He pulled her to him again and murmured, “Trouble is, I don’t know if I can last a day or two not seeing you.” And with his words hanging in the air, he kissed her one last time.