Realization trickled over Julia one icy drop at a time, Zach was in the air, now, reflying the exact route that had killed Lance. Nausea nailed her. She swallowed it back one breath at a time.
Lori stopped beside Julia, carefully prying Patrick from her trembling arms. "He was trying to protect you." Kathleen managed a half smile. "Men can be pretty pigheaded about the whole over-protection thing. But you don't have anything to worry about. Yes, they're retracing the route, but during the day. Not at night as Lance flew it. They're being careful."
Anger slowly dulled the edge of her fear, or maybe only masked it. She didn't care or intend to waste time analyzing.
She'd thought at least in their friendship they'd been partners, but this news made even that partnership a lie. She might call him Zach, but he was still the Colonel. He might as well still be rotating her tires and cleaning leaves from her gutters, taking care of the poor widow woman. Damn him again for bringing all that fear slamming into her double force.
Lori and Kathleen could tell her all day long it was a safe, daytime mission and it wouldn't stop her from fearing the worst. She couldn't sit around watching for him to come striding through the door. Or not. Waiting on the runway would shave away a few of those excruciating minutes.
"Lori, I need you to watch Patrick. The girls' mother is picking them up in about an hour." Julia's fingers made fast work of her sweater buttons in spite of the shaking, The runway would be chilly and her wait could well be long. "Patrick eats at five. There's expressed milk in the freezer. Bottles in the cabinet."
"Hang on." Kathleen grabbed her arm. "The SPs will arrest you if you blast onto the runway like this."
"So?"
"Then you won't be there when the Colonel lands."
Julia's hands fisted at her sides. "Just let them try to stop me."
"Whoa. Wait five minutes and I'll take you. I need to run home for my flight-line badge first." All order efficiency, Kathleen pivoted on her heel, military bearing starching through her. "We'll still be there long before they land. Renshaw's slated with Supervisor of Flying duties tonight. You can wait in the truck on the runway with her. Lori, can you watch the kids until I get back?"
"Uh, Julia?" Shelby called, still on the bottom porch step. "I'll baby-sit."
While Shelby's offer seemed the easiest route, Julia hesitated. Zach had finally convinced the teen to meet with her mother today. They couldn't lose critical ground now just because Julia's life was splintering. "No need, hon. Go ahead to Pam's. I don't know how late I'll be."
Given the scene she already knew was inevitable, the security police might well arrest her anyway. Not that she cared. What more could she lose? She would never be uppermost in his mind. For a man like Zach, the job would always come first and this secretive stunt proved her needs would always take a back seat to the needs of his troops.
Even if Zach skimmed to that runway unscathed, she'd already lost another husband.
* * *
"Shit! Climb!" Zach yanked back the stick, pushed up the throttle. Adrenaline pulsed.
Blood pounded through his veins as the plane shot through the haze.
All the while, his spider-tingle instinct screamed they were off course.
Which meant he didn't know where the hell they were.
Or where those mountains peaked.
Clouds whipped past his windscreen. The visible reality of rattling full-power speed had nothing to do with flying games and everything to do with staying alive. Of making sure Julia didn't face the hell of another front-porch visit.
Climb, damn it. He urged the plane as if his force of will could shoulder it higher, faster.
A part of Zach shouted for him to savor images of Julia if they were going to be his last.
But he couldn't afford the distraction.
Focus. Fly. Get the plane above MSA, minimum safe altitude, only used in an emergency when the plotted flight plan went all to hell.
That spider tingle told him this qualified.
Seconds later, he nosed out of the haze.
A mountaintop crested through the clouds.
Realization gripped him in an arctic fist. The spider tingle had been dead-on. Sure death loomed, shrouded in the haze below if they hadn't pulled up.