Ghostrider - M. L. Buchman Page 0,42

to spend his life investigating dead planes and dead people. “I didn’t mean to.”

Brett tipped his head to the side, started to speak, then cut himself off.

Mouth curved down, unhappy frown. The old childhood lesson came back to her, but she didn’t know what else to do. She’d already apologized.

She turned for the waiting US Air Force jets, but halfway there Jon stopped her with a hand on her arm. A light touch that was so hard to ignore. It was there but it wasn’t and that jangled against her nerves.

It had taken her a long time to learn how to deal with it—she pulled her arm away.

“Oh, right, sorry. Can we talk for a minute?”

“Jon. I can’t think about our relationship at the moment. It’s one factor too many for me to—”

“It’s not about that.”

“—process at this time. Oh. What is it?”

“It’s about your team.”

Everyone else had continued over to the two waiting Air Force planes and dropped their packs on the pavement.

“What about them?”

Holly glanced back at her. Somehow Miranda knew that she was offering to backtrack if Miranda needed help.

She shook her head.

Holly shrugged, lay down on the pavement in the shadow of the plane, and rested her head on her pack as if ready to take a nap. But something in how Holly tugged down the brim of her HeliSee hat told Miranda that Holly was watching them and was ready to come running if needed. Though she couldn’t imagine why that would happen.

Jon tapped his phone in his pocket. “I was speaking with the general in charge of military crash investigations. He wants to bring your team onboard.”

“We already are onboard. Over sixty-four percent of my team’s investigations have been military- or military personnel-related over the last eight months. That’s up from my prior lifetime average of forty-two percent.”

“Life, the universe, and everything.”

Perhaps ignoring anything she didn’t understand would be a useful tactic. At least things that people said. She would continue paying attention to the “voices” of the equipment and systems she investigated. But people, at least those she associated with the most, were becoming less comprehensible rather than more with increased exposure. Plotting the axial curves of familiarity versus comprehension decay over time would be an interesting challenge.

“My commander wants to bring your team on full-time. Military contractors for both disaster recovery and—”

“We work for the NTSB.”

“I know that.”

“I work for the NTSB. Your request doesn’t make sense. Thirty-six percent of my work is still in the commercial aviation sector. You’d want me to stop that?”

“Yes. And it makes perfect sense from our point of view. Your consistent ability to accurately assess site crashes in unprecedented time frames would be a real asset to—”

“No. Both myself and my team work for the NTSB.” Miranda tucked her suddenly cold hands under her arms. It made no sense—it was far warmer down here at Aspen’s elevation than atop Snowmass, yet her hands hadn’t been cold up there.

“Look, Miranda. As contractors we can pay you far more than the NTSB can—”

“I’m already wealthy. Jeremy’s parents are Microsoft millionaires many times over. No, this conversation is over.”

“But Miranda—”

“Hey boss,” Holly was standing at her elbow. “We’d better get a move-on right soon, I’m thinking. Crash in California and all.”

“Yes.” She let Holly guide her toward the planes.

“That was looking a bit intense,” Holly whispered.

“No. It was just…wrong.” She’d trusted Jon. And now he wanted the military to absorb her team? She’d been reading NTSB reports since she was thirteen and writing them since twenty. She’d never wanted to be anything else.

Why would Jon suggest such a thing? Didn’t he know her at all?

27

The two Air Force jets were still waiting—the one that had delivered her team and the one Jon had arrived in. With only five people, they could all easily fit aboard either one.

If only she could be on both planes, then she could be in at least two of the three places she needed to be. Unless, perhaps, two of the places happened to be near each other.

“Jeremy, where is there another AC-130J Ghostrider? A Block 30 with the laser.”

He pulled out his tablet and answered within moments. “There are only two other Block 30s built so far. One at Eglin in Florida for testing. The other was just flown from Eglin to Andrews in DC. Apparently a demonstration tour for the House and Senate Armed Services Committees.”

Miranda stopped with one foot on the first step, then turned to face Holly. She had an idea…and