Ghostrider - M. L. Buchman Page 0,58

as had everyone else. Unless…

He pictured the layout of the plane, which was tricky as it was all upside down at the moment. From the front passenger door where Pierre had dived out, if Tango Torres had wanted to cross to the weapons console, he’d most naturally walk…to the right of the laser.

And pass his legs through the beam! Good! He hoped it had hurt like hell.

“Not my blood. Or Rosa’s. All I give a damn about.”

Miranda didn’t react, but Holly looked at him with sudden interest.

“Rosa?”

“Laser operator. I helped her get off the plane before I went to help the pilots. Only to witness their hijacking.”

Holly’s look said that he hadn’t answered her question.

Well, to hell with her.

Miranda continued. “There’s no failure of aircraft or pilot in either crash. I am an NTSB investigator, not a military criminal detective. I don’t have the training for this.”

“At this level, I don’t think anyone does, Miranda.” Holly’s sympathy struck Pierre as not very helpful, however accurate.

“Therefore, we must go to your realm, Holly. What does your experience in the SASR make you conjecture?” Ha. That would teach Holly—turnabout was fair play.

But SASR? What the fuck? The pretty blonde had been in the Australia Special Air Service Regiment? “Not an operator.”

Her cool look told him that’s exactly what she’d been.

Damn but that was seriously elite.

“My conjecture is that someone wants an AC-130J Ghostrider very badly.”

“Only three of them out there so far,” Pierre informed them. Then remembered where they were standing. “Two now.”

“Yes, Eglin and Andrews,” Miranda spoke up.

Which, again, was more than he knew.

But he did know that some general had wanted a Ghostrider. One that Rosa had promised to—no, “sworn allegiance to” she’d said (which was just crazy)—be a gunner for.

“Wait. What was that general’s name you asked about earlier?”

“General Jorge Jesus Martinez.”

“JJ for a nickname?”

Holly nodded carefully.

No way could he admit to knowing about that without incriminating Rosa.

Except he just had.

39

Miranda tried calling Mike as soon as they had crawled out of the wrecked airplane and stood once again on the scorched stone pier of Avalon’s harbor.

Mike didn’t answer.

Jon answered on the first ring. “Hi, Miranda. I just wanted to apologize for pushing you to bring your team over to the military. That was unfair and I should have known to tell my boss ‘No’ without even asking. Something Auntie Elizabeth has just pointed out most emphatically.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I can’t reach Mike.” Then she remembered, but since the answer was “No” she hadn’t seen any point in dwelling on the offer.

“I was afraid that you’d be angry about—”

“Angry that I can’t reach Mike? Why would that be? I need to speak with him. Is he on another call?”

“No, he’s on another flight. He and Jeremy.”

Miranda looked at the phone for a moment. Jon’s name was across the top of the display. But he was supposed to be—“I thought you were going to protect Jeremy.”

“He’s fine. They’re on a training flight of the Ghostrider. Jeremy was like a kid in a candy store he was so excited.”

Miranda almost handed the phone to Holly, like when Drake was being all caught up in being the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.

No.

She had to learn to handle some of these things herself or her entire brain would be outsourced to her team and she’d have nothing left of her own. She did set it to speaker though.

“And you’re not with them?” She had to make sure that she had this right.

Holly looked at her strangely. She’d missed the beginning of the conversation.

“Right.”

“Who are you with?”

“Aunt…General Gray.”

“Hand the phone to her.” Then she recalled Mike’s training, “Please?”

There was a long pause as the phone changed hands.

“Hello, Miranda.”

“I presume by the fact that Jon called you ‘Aunt’ that you are now married to Drake?” Holly spoke up before she could. “Congratulations!”

“He’s being a little premature. We’re engaged as of last night.”

“Doesn’t matter! It’s about time Drake scooped you up. Go, General Gray! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!” Holly made an arm cranking like she was running an old printing press which didn’t seem relevant, unless she was imitating printing wedding announcements.

“Thanks, Holly. I just—”

“I can’t reach Mike.” Miranda tried to never cut anyone off, but they always seemed to think it was okay to cut her off. Maybe just this once. “I understand that he’s on a training flight on an AC-130J Ghostrider.”

“Yes. We were at Andrews inspecting the new modifications when a training crew boarded to fly some runs out