WINDOW OF TIME (18 page)

“You don’t want me to take your pulse because your heart is racing too fast.” Sunny softened her voice. “What if I’m right, and you’re not well. I …” She glanced at Dusty and Johnny. “We can be there to help you.” She shook her head. “If I’m wrong—” She lifted her shoulders. “Then our being on board the plane doesn’t hurt anybody.”

“Times ticking, Agent James,” Sanderson said.

“I won’t stuff my bags into the cargo hold,” Lucy declared as she walked away from the small aircraft. Sunny had brought four bags with her, and both paramedics brought large blue bags plus small personal bags, making it impossible to use the six-seat jet without putting their equipment under the deck.

“What are you going to do?” Sunny kept in step with Lucy.

Lucy glanced at Sunny and at Sanderson walking on the other side of Sunny. “I saw another plane that might be a better fit, and I want to check it out.”

“You can’t be serious,” Sanderson said, looking at the open hangar she was headed toward.

Lucy didn’t feel like explaining. And she certainly didn’t need his permission. It was her mission whether her pilots “stuck close” or got lost. It was bad enough she was cornered into letting three medics tag along, but Johnny did have a certain point. He knew about her windows and might be helpful in keeping her secret if she should have one during the next thirty-six hours. Plus it never hurt to have a Marine watching her back.

“No,” Sunny said, pulling Lucy to a stop with a hard tug on her elbow. “Can’t we talk about this?”

Just about the time Lucy started to lose her temper, she saw the look of panic cross Sunny’s face as she stared at the big, silver-clad propeller plane taking up most of the space inside the hangar. “You can still change your mind and stay here,” Lucy said quietly.

Sunny dropped Lucy’s elbow. “No, I won’t. I—I can’t.” Sunny turned and faced Lucy. “I promised myself that I would take care of you, so I’m not changing my mind.”

“I’m not either. If this DC-3 is available for rent, then I’m taking it on our mission.”

Sanderson said, “It will just about double the time it will take for us to get to the Bahamas.”

“I know that,” Lucy said sharply. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and let her temper cool a moment before speaking again. “I have contacts that will make our refueling quick, and best of all”—she motioned toward the antique craft—“this can land directly on the island’s shorter landing strip and save us a boat load of time on the water between Nassau and Long Island.”

“Cute pun,” Sanderson said as he stepped toward the plane. “But I don’t think you’re going to be able to secure this plane no matter how beautiful you are.”

“What?” Lucy asked in disbelief.

Sanderson ran his hand gently along the riveted wing and said, “I mean, how perfect can it be, two gorgeous female special agents going on a secret mission in the middle of the night, having to trick an unsuspecting plane mechanic out of his antique aircraft—”

“It’s early evening, Sanderson, and I don’t plan on tricking anybody.”

“Lucy, it’s … old!” Sunny stormed inside the hangar bay and went around the far wing. “You don’t expect me to actually fly in something that will fall apart if it hits a stiff wind?”

“This lady has been through a great deal more than a stiff wind, little miss.”

From inside the plane’s open doorway, an older man with a graying, short ponytail dressed in greasy coveralls climbed down the steps and came over and stood in front of Sunny. Wiping his hands on a rag, he said, “Is there something I can do for you, beautiful?”

Lucy stepped next to her. “I believe Sunny would love a tour through your plane.” She leaned sideways and bumped Sunny’s shoulder. “Right?”

“I do?” Sunny asked as her wide-eyed stare scanned the silver airplane. After another bump, she said with conviction, “I mean, I do!”

The dirty rag went into his back pocket before he took Sunny’s elbow. “It would be my pleasure, beautiful.” Leading her up to the steps of the plane, he said, “My name is Rockwell Sizemore, but everybody calls me Rocky.” He motioned for her to go up first. “And your name is Sunny?”

“That’s right,” she said.

Lucy heard a touch of sarcasm in her doctor’s voice, but as long as she played along Lucy didn’t care how annoyed she felt, and they would get to see if the plane would fit what she needed for the mission. Sanderson followed them inside.

“I have her restored almost to her original condition with a couple of custom touches,” Rocky said. They were standing just inside the doorway. “Aft”—he pointed toward the rear of the plane—“we have a decent sized bathroom.” He turned Sunny forward with an arm around her shoulder. “I found four original Murphy beds and installed them, but refurbished sixteen of the seats that came with the plane.”

“How long have you had it?”

Rocky gave Lucy a brief glance over his shoulder. “I bought her five years ago from a dude who was getting too old to fly any longer.” He chuckled. “His loss. My gain.”

“Is she ready to fly?” Sanderson asked, trying to see into the cockpit.

“You bet.” He let Sunny go and asked, “You want to sit in the left chair?”

Sanderson scooted around the women and followed the other pilot forward.

Lucy started to follow, but Sunny grabbed her arm and stopped her from getting any farther down the aisle. When the two men were a fair distance ahead, she quickly whispered, “You owe me.”

“We’re not even yet,” Lucy said before moving up the aisle. She found Sanderson sitting in the pilot’s seat, tenderly touching the carved wooden yoke in front of him.

“What are you doing here tonight?” Sanderson asked. “She looks perfect.”

“I work on her after the bill paying job every night for a few hours. I just wanted to polish up a few more things before this weekend.”

Sanderson tapped a small screen on the instrument panel. “This GPS isn’t original.”

“Nope. I think that piece of equipment is as important as a radio in any aircraft, vintage or not.”

Sanderson nodded. “I agree.”

Lucy leaned between the two men, happy with what she’d seen. “Have you rented it out for a little extra cash?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve chartered parties before. They’re a drag, but every so often it’s necessary to pay for the upkeep.”

“Good,” Lucy said. “I’ll take it for three days.”

“Sorry,” Rocky said. “I’m not taking any new clients right now.”

“I need this plane. I have my own pilot if you aren’t willing to fly.”

Rocky stood up, climbed out of the co-pilot’s chair, and stood in front of Lucy. “I’m taking The Belle Starlet to an air show in southern Arizona this coming Saturday. I don’t have the time to be taking her any place else before then.”

“If you’re not willing to cooperate with me, then it will be impounded for suspicion of terrorist training.” Lucy turned around and marched down the aisle and headed for the door. She listened to the man sputter behind her.

“What? No, wait. You can’t do that! Who do you think you are?”

Lucy stopped short, tugged out her ID and held it close to the irritated man’s face. “I’m Special Agent Lucy James, Central Intelligence Agency. And yes, I can have this plane grounded until you miss that air show and maybe even the next one before you clear it up. Are you going to cooperate?”

He glared at Sunny. She lifted her shoulders and pretended to study her fingernail.

“I guess … I don’t have a choice, now, do I?” Rocky said gruffly.

“I’m glad you see it my way.” Lucy ripped open a pocket in her pant’s leg, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to the angry man. “This should cover the cost of renting your plane. I’ll pay for the fuel separately when needed. We’ll be bringing in our equipment and bags in a few minutes. Please get ready.” She turned and started down the aisle again as he opened the envelope. She could hear him curse in surprise at the large amount of cash he saw as she climbed down the stairs.

Sanderson caught up with Lucy and Sunny on their way back to her car. “Agent James, would you really have done that? Would you have had him grounded on false charges?”

“Nah,” Lucy said with a subtle grin.

“In other words,” Sanderson said with a satisfying smile, “you tricked him.”

“Let me carry that,” Dusty said, taking the duffle bag from Sunny’s hand.

“Thanks.” Just the thought of getting into an old propeller plane made her stomach queasy. Sunny had Dramamine tablets in her medical bag, two of which she had already downed before strapping on her “sea bands”—little plastic balls that pressed against acupressure points on the inside of her wrists. Still, Sunny couldn’t help pushing down the wristbands a little harder in anticipation of the airsickness she knew would be forthcoming.

Of all the stupid things Sunny had done in her life, insisting on going with Lucy on her mission had to be her most idiotic to date, especially now that Lucy had found them a new ride to who-knows-where. Jets didn’t bother her that badly. They were smooth, most of the time, and quick. An aged propeller plane, on the other hand, rode altogether differently. It would bounce. It would shimmy. It would … make her sick.

“Come on, Sunflower. The rest of the gang is waiting.” Dusty smiled and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the open doorway.

The airport had given them clearance to taxi to the edge of the tarmac so the pilots could heat up the engines. But the passengers had to be inside before the big propellers were allowed to turn. Standing next to one engine, Sunny could understand why. One little slip would immediately send severed body parts flying indiscriminately across the field. She closed her eyes to more pleasant thoughts, like kneeling over a toilet and puking her guts out for the next twelve hours.

She knew all the things she needed to do to minimize her impending condition. Besides the wristbands and ginger, Sunny found a seat snug up against the small galley the owner had installed behind the cockpit. It wasn’t much more than a sink, an under-the-counter refrigerator, and a microwave, but the divider would keep the peripheral movements to the least amount possible.

“Sunny, are you okay?” Lucy asked, taking the seat across the narrow aisle from her. “You’re pale.”

“I know. Just ignore me, please.”

Dusty leaned over her. “She’s air sick.”

“But we haven’t left the ground yet.”

He took Sunny’s hand. “But we’re in a plane.”

“Cripes,” Lucy said. “Is it that bad already?”

Sunny nodded.

“You knew we needed to fly, and you still wanted to come with me?”

“Yes, I know.” Sunny blew out a shallow breath. “Like I said, just ignore me.”

Lucy leaned back and buckled her seat belt. “I’ll be sure to keep the aisle clear.”

“That’s big of you,” Sunny muttered.

The Belle’s engines deepened in pitch, and it began to creep forward. The pilot maneuvered the plane onto the tarmac, turning toward the runway. She tightened her grip around Dusty’s hand as she stared at the fine lines in the divider’s wood grain three feet in front of her. She started in the upper left part of the screen and tried to follow each line down to the bottom where the grain met the carpet or blended into the next line. By the time Sunny had counted the final dark brown line on the far right, the DC-3 was airborne and cruising level.

The ride wasn’t nearly as bad as she feared it would be, although it swayed somewhat like the painful gate of an old woman with arthritis. Sunny dared move her stare away from the stationary partition to Dusty’s concerned sky blue eyes.

“Is there anything I can do to possibly distract you from your condition?” Dusty asked quietly, leaning in toward her. He ran his fingers along the curve of her cheek and leaned in even closer to her face.

“Not a good idea right now,” Sunny whispered. He stopped before he actually kissed her. “I need some Dramamine, please.”

“Understood.” Dusty pulled out the medical bag from under his seat and unzipped a side pocket. “There are beds in the back. If you need to lie down, I think one of those would be more comfortable than reclining in your seat.”

Sunny held out her hand when he tore open a single dose of medicine. “I’ll see how this works before I try to go to sleep.” She took the pills with a few sips from a bottle of water.

Lucy touched her arm. “I think Adam would be willing to give up the co-pilot’s chair for a while to give you a little relief. It does help if you get to look off into the distance, you know.”

“Yes, but it’s dark outside, and there’s not much to look at right now,” Sunny whispered.

Johnny leaned around Lucy. “I think Dusty’s right. You should try to sleep through the flight.”

“I’ll wake you if we stop anyplace interesting,” Dusty said, grinning.

“We have two stops before our destination, Sunny.” Lucy unbuckled her seatbelt as she spoke. “When we get to the first refueling, you can get out and walk around. It will do you good.” She tapped her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get your bed ready.”