Cover Me - By Catherine Mann Page 0,93
possibly be involved in something this horrific? Would the OSI—would Wade—even believe her when she told them she truly had no idea where Phoenix and Astrid may have gone?
Wade leaned into her line of sight as if sensing her fears. His mouth moved as he spoke, but she couldn’t make out what he said.
She felt like her sister right after she’d lost her hearing, first trying to read lips. “I can’t understand you with all these voices in the headset.”
“Here then. I’ll swap to interphone, just us back here.” A click cleared away the voices of the pilots and the tower until only Wade remained. “Is that better?”
“Much. Thanks.” The silence felt exaggerated after the bombardment of so much noise. She looked around at the other passengers again and they all still seemed oblivious. Catnapping. Reading. Just hanging out, and in no way showing the magnitude of what waited for them once they landed.
“What do you need?” Wade asked.
“Isn’t there something I can do? Talk to the agent over there? Tell him more about the possible players? There has to be something.”
Wade rested his broad hand on her knee and squeezed lightly. “We’ve got it from here. I just want to see you and your sister safely settled.”
Safely settled? “I thought you brought us along because we know the community.”
“Flynn can help with that. Things could get really crazy down there if we can’t stop the explosion in time. In order to focus, I need to know that you’re locked down tight.”
Surprise sparked through her. He really intended to shuttle her aside to some quiet little room at the station, or maybe he even planned to plop her in a hotel with a guard, for crying out loud. Anger flushed through her like splashes of red in the northern lights. “Wade, we’ve worked together for this whole week, helping each other stay a step ahead of whatever’s going on.”
He squeezed her knee a little tighter. “Sunny—”
She pushed his hand away. “Don’t you dare think you can just distract me with a little sweet talk and stirring up my hormones again, Wade Rocha.” She cut him short, on a roll and needing to be heard. “I may be from a small rural area and not some badass warrior, but that doesn’t mean I’m less capable than you—”
A sneeze cut through the airwaves.
Wade stared back at her. And he hadn’t sneezed.
She looked around quickly at a cargo hold of people working very hard not to make eye contact with her. Her gaze finally settled on the quiet, moody PJ, the one they called Bubbles. He had his hand over his mouth, his thumb and forefinger pinching his nose.
Bubbles glanced up slowly, brooding eyes at half-mast. “’Scuse me.”
His two clipped words came through her headset loud and clear.
Jerking back toward Wade, she glared accusingly. “I thought this was a private line.”
He scratched his jaw. “Private for all of us in the back. I tried to tell you.”
“Oh.”
The older guy—McCabe—stood abruptly. “Heads up. All ears cue in. Chopper’s entering the approach pattern to land. We’ll be rolling out right into the parking lot of the power plant. A SWAT team is already on-site. FBI is on their way.”
Her gut knotted. All embarrassment evaporated. The helicopter banked left, swooping downward. In a blink of time they’d traveled what would have taken her days to accomplish on her own. Had her brother been gone long enough to make it here? If he was tangled up in such huge and horrible dealings, would he have access to faster modes of transportation now as well?
The chopper steadied into a hover, descent slowing until… Poof. The military aircraft settled with smooth precision. They had arrived at the Alaska Peninsula Power Plant.
And when she stepped from the military aircraft, she prayed she wouldn’t find her brother waiting.
***
Binoculars in hand, Wade crouched on the rooftop of the outbuilding skirting the power plant. The sun just peeked along the horizon, sparking off the silver structure humming obliviously about fifty yards away.
The SWAT unit had already sealed the place off, bomb-sniffing dogs scouring every inch of the facility. The FBI had arrived minutes ago and the predictable territorial tussles for control had already started.
At least roof duty kept him out of the fray.
He and his team had spread out on top of various outbuildings to watch for suspicious activity and be on call for emergency medical treatment, if needed. They’d been this route hundreds of times, working training exercises and ops with SWAT