"Good point." Quinn's words raced with nervous intensity. "That's why we're not going to drive now. Time to improvise. Go back to base. Since you ruined my road trip plans, we're going to steal a plane. Then, my friend, you're going to fly us out of the country."
Kathleen twisted around. "You've got to be joking. That will never work. What about security?" She scrambled for something, anything. "He can't fly, anyway. He's grounded."
"He looks mighty healthy to me. An old ace like me feels safer in the air than on the ground." Quinn centered the gun on Kathleen's temple. "Quit stalling, Bennett, and drive back to base."
Tanner's biceps flexed and rippled even though his hands stayed on the wheel.
Kathleen stifled a groan. Not because of the gun to her head, but because of its power over Tanner. No doubt Quinn had chosen his tactics well.
During the twenty-minute drive back to base, Kathleen told herself everything would be fine. Quinn couldn't get away with hijacking a military aircraft. Tanner would undoubtedly do something. Or the base security police would stop them.
But there could be shots.
If only Tanner didn't make such a big target.
God, she hoped Crusty would send up an SOS soon.
She should have kept her mouth shut about search regs. She and Tanner could have been back at the Edwards Inn, tangled in the blankets and each other.
But she'd been too scared to have a more meaningful talk with Tanner after their earlier intimacy, too afraid of launching herself headlong into heartache. Her fear had launched them both headlong into a nightmare, instead.
Like with Andrew, she'd let her personal life interfere with her professional decisions. Except this time the outcome could be so much worse. Her culpability so much more. With Andrew she'd merely turned a blind eye. This time she'd been an active participant, inflicting her will on Tanner.
They neared the front gate, a guard standing vigil beside a tiny hut. Kathleen tensed, readying for a possible confrontation. The gate sign proclaimed the duty guard's name, Airman DuPree from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The man who could end this nightmare.>"You're kidding, right?"
Given the gleam in Crusty's eyes, Kathleen suspected there might be more to his Black Program operations with the OSI than he had shared.
With an abrupt nod, Tanner faced front again. "Which leaves figuring out how to get inside that locked office."
Kathleen's eyes homed in on the third-story window. Quinn's. They'd met him inside for two interviews, and she could envision his desk, filing cabinet, computer. His personal records on the testing process would likely be there. It wouldn't take her more than five minutes to find what she needed if it lived in that office. The window was even vented open two inches.
A length of rope. A grappling hook. And she would be inside.
Tanner followed her line of sight to the window, then back to her. His face tightened. "No. Think of something else."
So much for his including her. "Why? It's the fastest, easiest way. It makes sense."
"You're only hours out of the E.R."
"And cleared."
"I'll do it."
"Yeah, right. Like your shoulders will fit. Not to mention you have not been cleared by your doctor."
His brows slammed down. "Then we'll find another way."
"Your way, you mean," she snapped.
A whistle sounded from the back. "Time out, you two."
Tanner and Kathleen turned to look at Crusty.
Their old pal shook his head. "Just like old times."
No kidding. There went any hopes that Tanner might change. She didn't expect him to roll over in a complete surrender. Just a compromise. Some sign that he would share control with her.
Kathleen forced herself to think, reminding herself to work with Tanner and Crusty, her team. No lone-ranger strategies. "Do either of you have a better idea? Otherwise we're stuck spending the rest of Christmas in this parking lot."