Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (68 page)

"Jesus..."
sighed Kyle.

"Right,"
Cooper had agreed, "double Jesus... Unofficially, her hand
had
been promised to Marcus Vasquez to solidify the deal between the
Soviets and the cartel. She disappeared the same day as Jack, and
Marcus was hopping mad. We only knew about her because Puerto Rico
is basically American soil. Our fifty-first state, if you will, and
we have agents there. The DEA was tracking Vasquez and as a co-op,
asked us to watch a few players for them. Marianna was one of them."
He took a moment to light a cigarette, then continued. "Somehow,
information about Jack's cargo leaked out, and someone on the island
decided they wanted it. Or maybe it was the plane they wanted,
doesn't really matter at this point. But it happened so fast our
people couldn't do anything about it. And nobody's talking after the
fact."

Cooper
took a long drag on the cigarette and watched the smoke rise
for
a moment. "Your kid held a good account of himself though. As
far as we can tell, he got out without a scratch. Final score, Kid:
12, Bad Guys: Zip. Hell of a kid, Steele... hell of a kid." He
seemed to be thinking.

Kyle
studied him for a moment. "What happened then?"

Cooper
shrugged as he stubbed out the cigarette in an ashtray. "It
gets
iffy here. They headed south, probably to avoid air traffic and were
sighted off the coast of Brazil by a couple of F-18s on patrol from
the Shenandoah. The B25 was visually confirmed, so we know the
Hornets were up close, but communications between the carrier and
the planes were problematic. Maybe storm interference. The three
planes entered the weather front together... None came out. Or at
least none were
seen
to come out."

Kyle
threw up his hands. "So they wrote it off as UFOs? The Bermuda
Triangle?
Ghosts, gremlins? What..?"

Cooper
shook his head. "The Navy doesn't take the loss of two
multimillion
dollar aircraft lightly. There's got to be an explanation, we just
don't know what it is yet. Nobody's stopped looking... that's the
dangerous part. Jack's officially cleared of the incident at the
airport, I've seen to that. But Vasquez wants his bride back, the
Soviets want their agent and Restonovich wants his niece. All
one
in the same,
of course, but still, it's a lot of people looking. Not to mention
the Navy and the CIA. Any one of these groups might kill him for any
number of reasons."

Kyle
had his hands steepled and was supporting his chin on his
fingertips.
"What are his chances if he's still alive?"

"Hard
to say," said Cooper lighting another cigarette.

"Try,"
said Kyle.

“
Honestly,”
said Cooper, inhaling on the cigarette, “there are so many
variables it's impossible to tell. And that kid of yours is the
biggest wild card in the deck. He's resourceful, and it appears...
very lucky.” The conversation turned to a series of
situational comparisons. A
myriad
of
ifs
and
what
if
s.
The bottom line was the odds could swing wildly in any number of
directions, but the safest place was with the FBI. Or so that's what
they'd have the Steeles believe. Kyle wasn't sure if Jack wasn't
better off staying invisible somewhere.

That's
when the nightmares started, about a month ago. Lynnette
hadn't
said one word through the whole conversation. Sitting quietly,
sipping her coffee, she watched with detachment as the two men
discussed her only son's fate.

■ ■ ■

Shortly
after that, the dreams and visions. He was far away. Very
far,
farther than he'd ever been. But he was alive, she knew that. Then
the never ending darkness. At first she thought this meant death.
But no, there were other things, wondrous things. Now there was
distress. He was in trouble. And pain, that was the latest one.
Blinding pain.

Lynnette
took a deep breath and finished the brandy as she watched
the
wind swirl the snow around the cars parked at the curb. Neither she
nor Kyle took notice of the dark blue sedan sitting down the street
with its motor running, the only vehicle for blocks without a
blanket of snow covering it. It, or the gray one, which was always
around somewhere.

"Let's
go back to bed," said Kyle. She nodded. He decided then,
they'd
go to Florida and spend the rest of the winter at Jack's. Maybe
she'll feel better there, he thought. The Winter had come early and
the cold weather was already wearing on them both.

FREEDOM:
TULOCHAH SYSTEM, GEO ZEE - PIRATE SALVAGE YARD

Jack
drifted in and out, one day running into the next. Inseparable
and
imperceptible in their passing except for the lessening of pain in
his skull. Sometimes he would wake to feel a hand holding his,
sometimes to voices, speaking softly. He came to the realization his
bunk mates were disappearing one by one. But almost always, Fritz
was there.

Alité
sat in a chair at the side of the bed, her head resting
on
the edge of the mattress, her eyes closed. One hand held Jack's,
their fingers intertwined, her other rested on Fritz's shoulder as
he slept on the bed alongside his master.

She
was awake the instant his hand squeezed hers, watching his
face.
The bandages, tubes, wires, all were gone now. All that remained was
the surgical patch over his left eye socket. He would be in pain
when he woke, the doctor had ended his medications. She moved her
chair closer and hovered over him, squeezing his hand and kissing
his arm. "C'mon, Jack, c'mon. Come back. We're waiting, we need
you..."

"Sssshhh..."
he whispered, "my head hurts."

"Oooh!"
She squealed and jumped out of her chair. She leaned over
and
kissed his face over and over. Fritz was licking his chin.

He
opened his eye and tried to focus in the dim light. "Where
are
we?"

"In
our quarters," she replied. "CABL M7 thought you'd be more
comfortable
here. Besides, he needed the room."

"He
likes it better when you call him Doc," mumbled Jack. "Why
does
he need more room?"

"For
the refugees..."

"Refugees?
What
refugees? How long have I been here?"

"Look,"
she began, "I'm doing this badly. Let me start over..."
She
went
on to explain that after the collision, the Freedom was adrift for
almost a week, carried by the currents of the ether storm. After
about a week the engineers were able to make sufficient enough
repairs to restart two of the thrust engines.

Jack
turned to look at her. "I guess I made a pretty good mess of
things,
haven't I?"

"Don't
be silly," she scolded gently, "you did what you had to do
to keep
us
all safe. If we would have surrendered, over half the crew could
have been imprisoned. They knew that. The ones who used to be
pirates would likely have faced life in a work prison... maybe even
execution. You saved them and they know it.
They speak
of
you in hushed tones, whispers. They almost worship you. You risked
your life for them, they don't look at it the other way around. No
one else has ever done that for them. No one else has ever cared..."

"But
so many hurt..." He thought of Trigoss and swallowed
hard.

“
We
lost two people... and saved a hundred...”

“
The
refugees?"

“
Yes,
you saved them too, without even knowing you did. If we had simply
surrendered they would have starved to death, trapped here on a
derelict ship with failing systems...”

“
How
did we find them...?”

"Well,
all our sensors were useless in the storm, so when we got
the
engines started, we just went the direction we were pointed in. No
destination, just go. When the storm cleared, we were here."

"Where's
here?"

"The
salvage depot you were looking for, of course." She kissed his
hand.

“
Of
course,” he mumbled, his mind reeling.

"We've
been here since, making repairs."

"And
the people?"

"We
found them on one of the ships while we were looking for parts.
Thirty
seven of them, all good people. They've been stranded here for
several months, but they're
ours
now." She smiled like they were her own children. "You
would be so
proud
of the crew...
your
crew. They've worked so hard. I think they're trying to repay you. I
just can't believe they're almost finished..."

Jack
was puzzled. "Finished... With what?"

"The
ship, sweetheart." She touched his face.

She
must be talking about
some
other ship
,
thought Jack. He couldn't
believe
there was enough of the Freedom left to work on. "
Our
ship?"

"Yes.
This ship,
your
ship."

"Good
Lord, how long have I been here... A year?" He realized he'd
asked that before but couldn't remember if there had been an answer.

"Well
you've been here in our quarters about four days," she paused,
"but it's
been
over four weeks since the collision.

"Collision...
oh yeah...” he remembered it vaguely, or was it that he
remembered being told about it... it was hard to separate the two.
“Wait, did you say four weeks?"

She
nodded, "More. Doc had to induce you into a coma for your own
good..."

"Geez,"
he groaned, "all I did was fall down... I think."

Alité
smiled, "Walt said you were thrown over ten feet. M7, er, Doc,
said
he
couldn't believe your neck wasn't broken. When you landed, a broken
piece of the console went through your eye and into your brain. You
would have died if Ragnaar hadn't carried you straight into surgery.
I heard he told Doc if he let you die, his life wasn't worth a
plugged Ulurian nickel."

Jack
smiled for the first time. "The Lieutenant has such a way with
words..."
As he stared at Alité's face and thanked whatever God was
responsible for her presence, she held his hand to her lips and he
saw the gold band on the ring finger of his own left hand. "What's
that?" He asked trying to focus on it fully.

She
lowered her eyes pensively. "I... I was so afraid you wouldn't
come
back to me... and I didn't think I could bare to live without at
least a part of you." She sniffed. "So I took your
name..." She held up her left hand to display her own ring.
"You aren't angry, are you?"