As predicted, their passengers were in a boisterous mood on the way home. Champagne flowed in the cabin as they celebrated some business deal or other. Emily didn’t know exactly what they were celebrating and she didn’t really care. It wasn’t her job to care about that sort of thing. All she was supposed to do was fly the plane and get her passengers where they wanted to go on time. As long as she did that, it was all good.
Normally, the hands off attitude was one she cultivated in her pilots and herself when it came to their clients. Of course, this was a routine job for a reputable business client. The flights she’d become most interested in lately were anything but routine.
As she drove the jet through the clouds on the quick hop back to Wichita, she thought about the problems that waited for her back at base. This trip was a break from her worries but it would be over all too soon.
Those cargo crates Sam had been nosing around were of interest to her as well. She wanted to know what he’d seen inside, if anything, but didn’t know how to ask without potentially causing herself more trouble.
She hoped Sam wasn’t working for Scott Southerland but she didn’t have definitive proof one way or the other. She’d been going on her gut instinct with Sam so far. Unfortunately, Sam had a way of confusing her senses until she wasn’t sure what was up and what was down. She wasn’t sure whether to trust her instincts with him or not.
“Penny for your thoughts.” Sam’s voice broke into her reverie.
She sighed heavily and brought her attention back to the cockpit and the approach they were about to make back to their home air strip. Sam was landing the jet this time while she worked through the checklists and handled the radio calls.
“They’re not worth that much.”
“You sure? You looked worried. If anything’s troubling you, I can be a pretty good listener when necessary.”
“There’s nothing wrong. Really. I suppose I didn’t get enough sleep last night and it’s catching up with me.”
“Couldn’t sleep? Funny, there was a lot of that going around last night.” She met his gaze and saw the fire leap within. An answering arousal shot through her veins as he smiled invitingly. “Next time, you should come over to my place. I’d be happy to rock you to sleep anytime, Em.”
As long as that rocking included the joining of bodies she could see so clearly in her mind’s eye, she doubted she’d get much sleep. He would tire her out though. Of that she had little doubt.
“Kind of you to offer,” she tried to bring the conversation back to safer ground. His innuendo had just about melted her socks off. “But I’m sure I’ll catch up on my nap time tonight.”
A radio call interrupted their conversation and it was all business until Sam set the jet down, light as a feather on the rainy runway in Wichita. The passengers stopped to thank them and the leader of the group handed out hundred dollar bills as if they were mere pocket change. Tips for services well rendered.
Emily saw Sam’s bemused expression as he pocketed the hefty tip. It didn’t look like he was used to big spenders and being in a service industry where every once in a while, good service was rewarded with an awkward awarding of cash.
“Can I keep this or is there some policy against accepting tips?” Sam whispered as the charter passengers walked away.
“You earned it. It’s yours.” She smiled at him. “If a client wants to tip, that’s their prerogative. We don’t encourage or discourage it. It’s purely up to the client and there’s no rule against accepting. A lot of our guys supplement their income with passenger trips. You make more tips when there are actual people on board than cargo. That’s why the new emphasis on cargo flights has been somewhat unpopular among the pilots.”
Sam’s attention was caught by something over her shoulder. The little frown between his eyes made her turn to see what, or who, was coming toward them. She shaded her eyes to see better and then let out a little squee as she ran to meet her twin.
Henry swept her into a big hug and swung her around, manhandling her. He gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek as he lowered her back to the ground.
“When did you get in? How long can you stay?”
“I landed about an hour ago and I have to leave tomorrow morning.”
“That soon?”
“I already checked your schedule, squirt. I know you’ve got a flight tomorrow afternoon so even if I could stay longer, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Okay, okay. I just missed you. Really, really missed you.” Much to her surprise, tears gathered in her eyes.
“Hey now, little sis. What’s wrong?”
She hadn’t been able to confide in her twin about her suspicions. He hadn’t been home since well before the board meeting and the near miss right after it that had scared her so badly.
She blinked back the tears and pasted on a bright smile. This wasn’t the time or place to tell him. They needed privacy.
“Not here. I’ll tell you later.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Later. Don’t worry. And don’t let on that there’s anything wrong.”
“I don’t like the sound of this, sis.” His frown deepened and she could’ve kicked herself—or him—for being seen like this. If Scott had her under surveillance, she didn’t want her watchers to see anything out of the ordinary.
“For goodness sake, try not to look so grim.” The annoyance in her voice must’ve gotten through to him. He wiped the frown from his face and casually looked around. She knew the moment his attention was snagged.
“Speaking of grim, who’s the giant staring me down like he wants to rip me apart limb from limb?”
She looked over her shoulder and sure enough, Sam was watching them with a speculative look in his eye. She tried her best to suppress the little thrill that went through her at his marked attention. Was he jealous?
“That’s the new guy. Sam Archer. He’s flying with me for the next few weeks.”
“Really?” Now her brother’s somewhat hostile gaze settled back on her.
“Don’t look at me like that. He’s strictly a coworker. Stop imagining things.”
“I’m not imagining the way he’s looking at you. Or at me.” Henry seemed intent on watching Sam, and Emily rolled her eyes. “Don’t look now, but your new guy is coming this way.”
“Not my new guy. The new guy,” she tried to clarify but there was no time. A second later, she could feel Sam behind her. Henry held out his hand and Emily turned sideways so she could see them both.
“I hear you’re Emily’s new copilot. I’m Henry Parkington.”
Did she discern a hint of relief in Sam’s expression when Henry identified himself as her brother? Maybe she was imagining things.
“Good to meet you. I’m Sam Archer.”
“So my sister said.” They ended the handshake and began the time honored male tradition of sizing each other up. Emily had seen this before. It was the modern day equivalent of beating on their chests and swinging from trees, or so she’d always believed.
“You’re the twin,” Sam observed.
“Yup.” Henry put one hand on her shoulder in a clear message of ownership.
She allowed it for a moment, then stepped deliberately away in her own show of independence. She knew how to play this game. Being the only girl in a family of overprotective men, she’d picked up a thing or two over the years. She decided to break the tension and leave the boys to their testosterone party.
“I have to finish up a little paperwork and then we can go,” she told her twin.
“Sounds good, squirt.” He touched her arm as she turned to go. “I don’t have wheels, so I’m dependent on you for transport.”
“I’ll meet you by the parking lot door in about ten minutes. Okay?”
“Roger that.” He tipped his hat at her as she walked away.
She looked back to see the two men talking. They seemed to be conversing the whole time she walked toward the hangar. What could they be talking about? She had the sinking feeling they were talking about her. Oh, not out in the open, but skirting the issue the way men did when they wanted to make a point. The idiots.
“Are you interested in my sister?”
Straightforward. Sam liked that.
“I think that’s between me and your sister,” Sam hedged.
Henry Parkington cursed under his breath. “So you are interested in her.”
Sam folded his arms over his chest. He wasn’t going to confirm or deny until he had no choice. Here was an opportunity to learn more about Henry and his twin. He’d take it and run with it while he could.
“Just watch your step, Archer. I watch out for my sister.”
Sam nodded. “I have no doubt on that score. But you should realize she’s a grown woman. Whether she and I get together or not, that’s our business. Not yours.”
He thought he might’ve overplayed his hand but he couldn’t help but speak his mind. This situation was suddenly too important to him on a personal level. If the gods were smiling and Emily turned out to be an innocent bystander in this dangerous drama—and if she was as interested in Sam as he was in her—then he wanted to be up front and honest with her family from the outset. He knew damn well that was a lot of ifs. Still, something inside him told him he had to be himself with this man, her twin, if there was to be any hope of a future.
Of course, he was just dreaming when it came to the future. He doubted a woman like Emily would want him. Not with all the baggage currently accompanying him wherever he went. There was the dangerous nature of his job along with the unknown and potentially life threatening side effects of the serum he’d taken to save his life when exposed to the zombie contagion.
Then there was the whole zombie thing. Until that was resolved, he shouldn’t even begin to entertain the idea of getting involved with anyone. Especially Emily. He didn’t want her exposed to that. If his gut was right and she was innocent, he wanted to keep her safely away from any possible action on the zombie front.
Henry was watching him, holding his tongue while he took Sam’s measure.
“What’s your story? You’re military.”
“Army,” Sam confirmed.
“You must not have been out long.” Henry was clearly fishing for information. Sam would have to tread lightly.
“Long enough,” Sam hedged.
“What unit were you in?”
“82nd Airborne. Why? You going to check me out? I thought Em said you were Air Force.” Sam let the challenge come out in his voice. Let Emily’s twin know he wasn’t a pushover.
“I have friends in the Airborne,” Henry countered. “But somehow I get the feeling you were more than just regular soldier.”
“You have good instincts.” Sam figured it wouldn’t hurt to hint at the truth.
His heavily doctored personnel file for Praxis Air contained some of this information. It wouldn’t hurt his cover. The real danger could come from lying outright to Emily’s brother. That could cause big problems for his cover story.
“Rangers?” Henry asked. Sam nodded in reply. Henry’s mouth thinned to a frowning, unhappy line. “Green Beret?”
“Need to know,” Sam said, both confirming and stating the need for quiet on this topic.
“Shit.” Henry said a few more curses under his breath before turning back to Sam. “So what the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m a pilot. I needed a job. Here I am.” Sam shrugged.
“And that’s all there is to it?”
“If it weren’t, I still couldn’t tell you.”
Another round of cursing followed before Henry turned back to him.
“Who, exactly, could tell me?”
“Nobody you know.” Sam could see Henry was working up a good head of steam so he decided to cut him some slack. “However, if there turns out to be more to it, I think you’ll be finding out soon enough.”
That stopped Henry in his tracks. Steely blue eyes turned on Sam. “You wouldn’t be shitting me, would you?”
“No, sir.” Sam had said more than enough. Anything more and he might as well draw the other pilot a diagram. “You’ll have to be satisfied with that for now.”
“I’m not satisfied,” Henry said quietly, his frustration clear. “Not with any of it. But I’ll live with it for now. But know this—if you set one toe wrong, I’ll have your ass in a sling, Spec Ops or not. Is that clear?”
“Clear,” Sam acknowledged. The man had a right to try to protect his sister. It said a lot for him that he cared enough to try.
The tension lasted for a few more seconds before Henry began to relax.
“So I outrank you?”
“I believe you do, Major Parkington.”
“What’s your rank, Archer?” Henry seemed more curious now than hostile. They were on more familiar ground now with this discussion.
“I’m a first lieutenant.”
“Present tense?” Henry nodded to himself and Sam realized his potential mistake. It wasn’t that big a deal but after what had come earlier in their conversation, it was significant.
Sam shrugged. “Once an officer, always an officer.”
“True,” Henry allowed. “What did you go to school for?”
“Aeronautical Science, believe it or not. I went to Embry-Riddle.” That was the truth and had been included in Sam’s cover story. His lifelong love of flying had led him to study it in college. He’d perfected his skills over the years to the point where he could fly pretty much anything with wings.
“Why didn’t you go Air Force?”
It was a common question. Anyone with his aviation background could have had his choice of spots in most of the armed services, yet he’d chosen for deeply personal reasons.
“My dad served in Nam. He was a Green Beret. When I joined up, there was no question but that I’d go Army like him.”
Sam hadn’t taken the easy route. If he’d joined the Air Force, no doubt he’d be equal or higher ranked than Emily’s brother. But Sam’s skills as a pilot were secondary to the plethora of combat talents he’d had to develop as a special operator. He wouldn’t change his choices, even if he could. He loved being a Green Beret like his father before him. Tradition was important to him and he had a strong belief that his choices had led him to this place—to being in the right place at the right time with the right skills to get this most important of jobs done.
“Family loyalty is something I understand.” Henry’s gaze turned hard again. They had an uneasy truce but the protective brother wasn’t far away.
A piercing whistle got their attention and Sam turned toward the hangar to see Emily waving at them.
“Was that her?” Sam asked. That whistle had been one of the loudest and most piercing he’d ever heard.
“The girl’s got talent,” her brother replied as they began to walk toward where she waited in the shade of the hangar door. “She perfected that ear shattering whistle when we were kids. Drove our father crazy when he was trying to work.”
“I bet it’s hard to grade papers with sounds like that breaking your concentration.”
“She told you about our dad?”
Sam tried hard not to sound smug but it felt good to surprise the other man. He nodded as they walked together toward Emily.
“And how you got your nickname, Shotgun.”
“No way.”
“Way,” Sam replied.
Henry let out an appreciative, if disbelieving, whistle. Seemed the talent for expressing themselves via sharp noises ran in the family.
“You move fast, lieutenant. You’ve been with the company how long? A month or two?”
“Actually, just a couple of days.”
“Damn.”
Sam looked over to see Henry’s jaw clench. He was prevented from saying anything else because they’d arrived at the door. Emily was clearly getting impatient, and a little suspicious.
“You two talking about me?”
She’d chosen the direct approach. Sam could respect that.
“As a matter of fact, we were talking about me,” he replied, giving her a playful wink.
Her whole demeanor changed. She went from defensive annoyance to outrage in the blink of an eye. Sam was glad the outrage wasn’t directed at him. He wasn’t sure he could have survived the full frontal assault she was about to rain down on her brother.
Henry Parkington was made of sterner stuff than Sam had believed. He gave his sister a grin that only seemed to inflame her anger more. She gave him the dirtiest look Sam had ever seen before turning on her heel and stomping off toward her car.
“Wish me luck,” Henry said as he turned to follow his sister.
“You’re a braver man than I, Shotgun,” Sam complimented the pilot heading into the tornado of his sister’s temper.
Henry only laughed. “Her bark is worse than her bite.” His gaze left his sister’s retreating form and settled on Sam once more. All amusement faded. “But I’m the opposite. You mess with my sister, you should remember that.”
“I have no intention of hurting her in any way.” Sam knew that was parsing words at best. Sure, he didn’t intend to hurt her, but if she was involved with the conspiracy, he might have to kill her.
The emotional aspect was even more of a minefield. Sam didn’t know what he wanted where Emily was concerned except that he needed to protect her and wanted to make love to her. All night. Every night. For a long, long time.
She was quickly becoming an obsession. A fire in his blood he didn’t know how to quench.
In all likelihood, he’d hurt her when this ended, even if she wasn’t on the wrong side. If they got involved romantically, he couldn’t foresee much of a future for them. He couldn’t foresee much of a future for him and any woman. Not with the job he did and his new medical condition that made him immune to the zombie contagion and able to heal faster than any normal person. Who knew what other side effects the serum he’d been given could have long term? He didn’t want to expose anyone, much less Emily, to that uncertainty.
“See that you don’t,” Henry ordered him, a wary look in his eye. “Emily is the most important person in the world to me. I’d do anything—kill anyone—for her.”
Once again the earsplitting whistle rent the air, spoiling Henry’s badass vibe. Sam had to hand it to him, he may not be a special operator, but he had the attitude down. They both looked over to see Emily at her car, peering over the roof, glaring in their general direction.
“You coming, or what?” she shouted to her brother in an exasperated tone.
Henry held up one hand to her, indicating he was on his way, but he turned to face Sam.
“Just watch your step, lieutenant. I protect my own.”
“Understood. I do the same. And as long as Emily is my copilot, I’ll watch out for her in the air and on the ground.”
A new respect entered Henry’s eyes for a fleeting moment. They’d reached detente. For now. How long it would last was anyone’s guess. Best case scenario, this could be the start of a lifelong friendship. And if Commander Sykes tapped Henry to join their team, it could be the beginning of a good working relationship as well.
Or it could be the beginning of the end for both twins if they were aiding the terrorists trying to sell the zombie contagion to the highest bidder.
“I can’t believe you gave Sam the third degree.” Emily slammed her refrigerator door and popped the top on a soda can before placing it in front of her twin.
Henry sat at the breakfast bar in her small kitchen, his expression alternating between annoyance and worry as they discussed his encounter with her new copilot. And why was he annoyed? Emily was the one who had to work with Sam every day. She was the one Henry had embarrassed with his questions.
“He’s more than he seems, Em. That dude has Special Forces written all over him. You need to be careful.”
“Oh, come on. There’s nothing in his file except a stint in the Army after college.”
“There wouldn’t be if he was Delta Force or some other kind of black ops guy. I’m serious, sis. This is one guy you don’t want to get tangled up with. He’s bad news.”
“He’s a talented pilot and is becoming a friend. I’ll make my own decisions where he’s concerned.”
“Sis, come on. If he’s here, something is up. I don’t buy that he’s not in service anymore. He’s too rough, too lean. He’s still on edge and ready for action. He’s not retired. He’s here on an op.”
“You’ve got to be kidding…” Emily trailed off as she lost steam. All her suspicions about the airline came rushing back to her.
“What? What is it?”
“I’ve…” She didn’t know where to begin. She’d been keeping it all to herself for a long time, not wanting her brother to get involved. She didn’t want to endanger his career—which is exactly what she’d be doing if he decided to go AWOL to protect his twin sister.
“Come clean, Em. What have you been keeping from me?”
She was well and truly caught now. She had no choice.
“I think Scott’s using Praxis Air to smuggle drugs. Or something.” She shook her head in annoyance. “I don’t know exactly what he’s doing but there have been a number of weird cargo shipments. High tech stuff sent to obscure places. Never the same airport twice. And I think the two recent crashes had something to do with it. Whatever it is.”
Henry grew utterly still. She knew that look. He was taking in data and trying to come up with a logical answer. Henry had inherited at least that analytical skill from their dad.
“Tell me more. What have you seen that makes you suspicious?”
“Scott has plans to change more than a third of the fleet to cargo carriers. It’s already begun in a big way. I’ve flown a few of the cargo runs. Mostly they keep me away from them since the board meeting.”
“What happened at the board meeting?”
“I made the mistake of confronting Scott about it. The manifests for those flights weren’t filled out properly and every one of them I’ve seen has had his original signature on it. It’s like he signed a bunch of blanks and gave them to someone carte blanche. But the origins and destinations are never the same, nor are the sending and receiving parties. The only common factor is Scott’s signature on those forms. It’s like the clients are going out of their way to be as anonymous as possible.”
“Which isn’t what I’d do if I wanted to really be anonymous. They aroused suspicion by being too cautious.” Henry was thinking aloud, puzzling through the facts she presented him with. She could work with him in this mood. She only feared what would happen when she told him what came next.
“After the meeting, I nearly drove off a cliff. I found out later, my car had been tampered with. I think Scott did it, or ordered it done.”
“God, Em!” Henry jumped to his feet but the danger had long since passed. “What makes you think Scott was behind it? And how do you know for sure it was tampering?”
“He delayed me with some cock-and-bull story about having coffee with him after the meeting, though he had assistants coming and going while we chatted about stuff he already knew. He was asking me about hangar business we’d already gone over in the meeting. It was like he was delaying me, though I only realized it later, when the mechanic showed me the cut lines and asked me if I wanted to file a police report. He was upset when I declined but I told him I’d handle it.”
“Who was the mechanic?” Henry’s brows lowered into an ominous frown. She’d bet he already knew the answer.
“Buddy. I called him on my cell phone after the paramedics took a look at my scratches. I was okay and I didn’t want to go to the hospital. Buddy understood and came to get me. He also took a moment to check under my car while the wrecker hoisted it up onto a flatbed. There wasn’t much left of it that wasn’t damaged, but you know Buddy.”
“Best mechanic in the entire United States,” Henry confirmed Buddy’s oft-repeated boast.
“He saw right away that my car had been sabotaged. He wanted me to involve the police but I figured that would only make things worse. If Scott was involving Praxis Air in something illegal, I wanted a chance to shut him down without ruining the company in the process. I had to try. For mom.”
“While I understand the sentiment, I can’t agree with your decision.” Henry gave a long suffering sigh and sat back down. “The police should handle this. If there is something illegal going on, they’re the ones to uncover it. Not you. Not Buddy. I can’t believe he let you talk him into this.” Henry was heading toward anger and she didn’t want to go there with him. She was too tired. Too drained from the emotions of the last few minutes. She had to get him back on track.
“Regardless, I’ve been keeping an eye out. The cargo seems to be mostly high tech scientific equipment. The little I’ve been able to sneak a peek at is way beyond anything I’ve seen before but there were a few things I recognize. Centrifuges, all kinds of lab glassware, something called a mass spectrometer according to the tag on its side and a few Geiger counters and radiation monitoring badges. I also saw a little crate that had a gamma counter and a giant crate that had a beta counter in it. I did a quick internet search and both of those are used in medical labs to do quantitative analysis of radioactive compounds.”
“Doesn’t sound like drugs. This could be so much worse than drugs, Em.”
“Don’t you think I know that? But then, what about all the regular lab equipment—distillation equipment, Bunsen burners, flasks, beakers, and all that stuff? That could be a drug lab. Or maybe it’s both. Maybe Scott has his fingers in more than one cookie jar and is smuggling stuff for anyone who’ll pay.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of, sis. Damn,” Henry cursed. “Have you told anyone else about this?”
“No. Only Buddy. And he warned me not to talk about it to anyone. Even him. We’ve been pretending everything is normal and neither one of us has said anything since the wreck. We’re just both keeping our eyes open.”
Suddenly Henry was on the move. He opened his knapsack and began rummaging through it. All kinds of electronic doodads came out to be strewn across her living room couch. He’d always been a techno geek and it looked like nothing had changed much in the years they’d been pursuing vastly different careers.
At length he came up with a small box that looked a little like an old fashioned transistor radio. It had an antenna on one end and Henry moved around her house, pointing the antenna at various objects and heights after switching it on.
“What are you doing?”
“Not a word, Em.” His tone was as stern as she’d ever heard it. “I mean it.”
He passed by her and moved into the kitchen, checking it thoroughly. When the box began to beep, Emily jumped.
“Hell.” Henry looked disgusted as he reached inside one of the flower pots that lined her kitchen window and pulled out a little black pebble.
On closer inspection, she saw it wasn’t a pebble. On her brother’s palm lay what looked like the tiniest microphone she’d ever seen.
“Someone’s been in here.” The proof was in her brother’s hand. Emily felt sick. Someone had violated the sanctity of her home and planted a listening device in her kitchen.
“Pack your things. It’s not safe for you here, Em.”
“Stand down, Parkington. I’ll take it from here.” A tinny voice issued the order from the bug in her brother’s hand. It was a two-way device then. Whoever it was could both hear and speak to them.
“Who the fuck is this?” Henry was definitely pissed now. He also seemed a little less tense. Like maybe this wasn’t the disaster they had at first believed.
“Go to the back door,” the voice replied.
Henry pulled a pistol from the holster he’d had hidden under his pant leg and flipped off the safety. He motioned for her to take cover behind the kitchen island. Then he went to the back door that led right into the kitchen and peered out the small window inset in the wood.
“Son of a bitch,” he swore, flipping the lock open and swinging the door wide. He didn’t lower his weapon but the set of his shoulders seemed to relax a fraction from what she could see. “You bugged my sister’s home?”
Emily couldn’t see who was at the door from her angle and she was too frightened to move without Henry’s all clear. She didn’t want to do anything that could get her twin shot.
“Just doing my duty, sir.”
Dammit. That was Sam’s voice. Emily stood from her hiding place.
“Would you mind telling me exactly what the hell is going on here?” Oh, she was mad now. Mad and scared. It wasn’t a good combination.