Private Maneuvers (Wingmen Warriors 4)

The pilot pitched his candy wrapper in the trash. "Why is everyone always so surprised to find out I have a few connections? Man, sure could give a guy a complex. Yeah, I'm what I guess you could call a consultant on this one. I'm not an OSI Officer, but I run dark-ops testing programs with the OSI, mostly with surveillance equipment. Which made me a logical go-to guy to act as the Air Force liaison on diver dude's mission."

Darcy's gaze gravitated to Max's tattoo. A fire raced below the surface at her fascination with the marking. Did she burn to touch it as much as he burned to be touched by her?

Baker cleared his throat.

Darcy's eyes snapped up, only a hint of pink on her pale face. "Why are you telling me this much now, Crusty?"

"Because we have our man. Thanks to Keagan's direction and coordinates, we've secured the surveillance leak. Once Keagan reached his boat, he deployed forces to track your attackers. They located a body. The security police are running ID checks and have another person in custody now."

"Who?" she pushed.

"Vinnie, the dive shop guy, helped out with O'Club catering. He was found diving in the area."

"But why would he... Oh."

"Yes, that wasn't his real job," Crusty confirmed. "He's a civilian employee working in Army CID— apparently also a mole in military intelligence."

"Civilian?"

"Don't forget nearly half the military counterintelligence workers are civilians—Government Service employees. Our Vinnie is a GS 9."

Max watched her absorb the information of Vinnie's government service status. His arrest. Would she buy the story? Sure the guy had been picked up, but Max wasn't so certain the CID civilian employee was guilty of anything more than a bad hair day. Something didn't sit right, and Vinnie was sure as hell denying involvement.

But Max didn't intend to fire up Darcy with his doubts.

Her eyes lit with battlefield anticipation. "So when do I start looking at mug shots to ID the others?"

The General's hand clamped around the bedrail as if to bar her escape. "You don't."

She sat straighter. "Pardon me?"

"You don't," her father clipped orders. "Keagan here can do that. You're going home."

Darcy's rigid spine kept her upright without any help from the mechanical bed, even while tucked into a standard-issue thermal blanket. A twinge of guilt stabbed Max over calling her father.

He sure as hell understood her struggle to step out of her dad's overlarge shadow. Max scratched his forearm, still burning from just the caress of Darcy's eyes. He'd marked himself with tattoos more than once to claim his life as his own and rile his old man.

Personally, he didn't care anymore or let others' opinions shape his decisions. Running life solo worked better in his job as he'd learned well with Eva. He'd found his place in the world outside his father's influence. He hoped Darcy could find the same.

He expected she would. The General might be overbearing, but Max doubted the old guy had ever leaped from behind corners to knock her on her butt. Reflexes boy. Don't ever let the enemy catch you unaware.

Max dumped thoughts of his father out of his head. Must just be seeing Darcy and her dad together that was screwing with his mind.

She pulled herself into a stance that couldn't be mistaken as anything other than military attention. "With all due respect, sir, unless I miss my guess, this one's outside your scope of command. There's a bigger picture here and if there's something I can contribute, then by God, I'm not budging off this island." She met her father's gaze dead-on. "Sir."

The two wills, father and daughter, battled so strongly Max wasn't sure who would win. He had to tip the odds for the General, no matter what Darcy wanted, no matter that it chewed his conscience.

Max stepped forward. "Damn it, Darcy, that bigger picture is about your flying world, too. Leaks like this can affect every flight plan for the Cantou conflict coming out of planners on this island."

He pulled out the stops and voiced what needed to be said to make her leave. "You wanted to be a part of the war effort. Well you were a part by getting me here whether you knew it or not. Time to see the big picture then and now. You're a military pilot. You look out for your wingmen and do what's best for your country. And right now, your country needs you to get the hell off this island. You're hampering my investigation."

Darcy's lips may have stayed closed, but her eyes shouted across the room. You bastard.

The General turned, gratitude stamped on his craggy face. Apparently, flowered dive shorts no longer mattered. "Thank you, Keagan. Well put."

Max stayed as silent as Darcy. Who would have thought he'd ever side with the starched shirts he'd so long disavowed? But weighing the options for keeping Darcy safe, Max accepted he would have to stand in the old man's shoes.

For a guy more accustomed to Teva sandals, those polished leathers made for a damned tight fit.