Surviving Love: Saints Protection & Investigations Read online

  “I’m sorry, Marc,” Hank said quietly as Marc approached. “I had no idea about any changes.”

  Marc stared at the young man, wondering if he was telling the truth since he was not high up on the FBI chain and wouldn’t be privy to all the details but, at this moment, he was not in the mood to have continued discussions with the Fairbanks agents.

  Nodding, he climbed into the cockpit, redoing the pre-flight checks once more. About ten minutes later Marc watched as Kendall walked from the office toward the aircraft. Hank walked next to her, carrying her luggage and she held on to a large tote bag and smaller purse. Climbing down from the plane, Marc met her at the wing.

  “Are you ready, Kendall?” he asked, observing her face carefully for signs of a continued headache. She appeared to have more color in her cheeks and her eyes lifted to meet his. Her gaze pierced his and he registered that they held trust. Reaching out his hand, he watched as she placed her much smaller one in his without hesitation.

  “Yes, thank you,” she replied, a small smile crossing her face before she let go. Her gaze jumped to the plane behind him and she confessed, “I’ve never flown in this type of plane before, so I’m afraid you’ll have to show me what to do.”

  “No worries,” Marc smiled, noting her gentle voice and pleased at her lack of demands. “Come with me.” Opening the door, he said, “You’ll be more comfortable in the back seats. Once we’re in the air, you can stretch out and lay down if you like, as long as you stay strapped in. I can’t guarantee you’ll be comfortable, but I’ll do my best to make the flight as smooth as possible.”

  “Oh!” she exclaimed, peering inside. “It looks just like a car!” Turning back to him, her smile more firmly in place, she added, “And please don’t worry about me. I’m not needy and I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  Taking her tote bag from her, he leaned in and placed it on the floor before assisting her into the seat. I’ll have you sit on the right side, if you don’t mind, since it’ll be easier for me to see you there in case you need anything.”

  Kendall scooted to the side indicated and quickly buckled in. Marc turned back to see Hank and Kevin standing nearby. Kevin walked over, sticking out his hand for a conciliatory handshake.

  “Really sorry, Marc, about the switch. I hope you two have a safe flight. Stay in touch, so we know where you are and what’s happening.”

  Cocking his head, Marc replied, “Shouldn’t be a need to. Flight is straightforward…unless you think there’s a reason to be concerned?”

  Eyes wide, Kevin blurted, “No, no. It should go like clockwork.”

  Nodding, Marc then turned to Hank and offered his hand, smiling when the young agent took it quickly, pumping it up and down.

  “It was really nice to meet you, Marc,” Hank gushed. “I hope everything goes well for you.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Hank. And keep that enthusiasm.” With a curt nod, he turned and climbed into the cockpit, securing the door behind him.

  With a glance into the back seat, he asked, “Ready?”

  Kendall pushed her glasses up on her nose and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” She watched in fascination as Marc sat in front of a bank of instruments, calmly starting the aircraft.

  With the front propeller whirling, they began to taxi. With a last look to the side, Marc noticed Hank and Kevin in a huddle, their heads bent in conversation.

  Moving out of the hangar and along the pavement toward the runways, Kendall blinked hard. “I thought this looked like a car, but now I can see it looks like a spaceship up there,” she tried to joke but heard her voice quiver with nerves.

  Marc, headphones in place, glanced back at her, noting her fingers clutching the armrests. “Don’t worry, Kendall. I’ve got this.” She threw him a grateful smile, but he once more wondered how long this trip would feel with a possibly ill and definitely nervous passenger.

  The tower radioed and he responded as they made their way to the runway. Getting his instructions and cleared for departure, he continued to the curve at the end. Lining up the craft they began racing down the straight runway.

  Kendall watched out the window as they lifted off and the ground slowly fell below them. Unclenching her white-knuckled fingers from the armrest, she sighed in relief.

  Concentrating on the take-off, Marc forgot about Kendall for a few minutes until they were at the altitude he planned on flying. Once they were on their way, he glanced back and, seeing her peering out of the window, he let out a breath. Good…now if we can just do this for two days, we’ll be homefree.

  Chapter 5

  Airborne, Marc settled back in his seat, keeping his watchful eyes on the instruments and occasionally glancing to the back. Kendall’s forehead pressed against the glass as she peered out the window at the landscape below, her eyes wide behind the plain glasses.

  The view of Fairbanks from the sky was beautiful and Kendall noted how the mountains in the background framed the city. The blue-green vista below was much more calming than she anticipated the flight would be. A river snaked through the trees and she finally felt her body relaxing.

  Marc noticed her face was less tense and her eyes met his, another smile crossing her lips.

  “How are you doing?” he asked. Her hair was pulled back from her face with a headband, but he noticed it hung down her back in a shiny sheet. It gave her a softer appearance than the severe bun she sported last night.

  She pushed her glasses up again and said, “I’m fine. The headache medicine makes me a little woozy, but I’m not in pain.”

  “Do you get them often?”

  Lifting her delicate shoulders in a little shrug, she said, “Sometimes. Usually when I’m under stress or just really tired. I think the symposium was overly long at times, so I was ready to leave.”

  “Do you work on the same research projects that your father does?” Marc asked, desiring to learn more about her.

  Her face brightened as she responded, “We work on many of the same projects, although he is more of a pure bio-chemist. My specialty is micro-biology.”

  Chuckling, Marc said, “I’m afraid basic college chemistry and biology was as far as I went with those subjects.”

  “What was your major?” she asked, leaning forward so she could view more of his face.

  “Aviation Science and Aeronautical Technology,” he replied.

  “Have you always wanted to fly?” she asked.

  “Long as I can remember. And did you always want to follow in your father’s footsteps?”

  She was quiet for a moment before answering. “I was good at science in school and, having spent a lot of time in the laboratories when I was younger, well, it just seemed to be a good major.”

  “That’s not exactly a rousing endorsement,” he observed.

  Chuckling, she agreed. “I guess you’re right. I can’t honestly tell you that it’s my passion, although I do love the research, just not the politics that go along with it.”

  “You hate the politics and yet I’m delivering you to D.C.,” he chuckled.

  “Ugh, don’t remind me!” They settled into a peaceful silence for a moment while she looked through the window again, the breathtaking view passing beneath the plane’s wings. “This area is so pretty. When I flew in, I was on a large commercial flight and had an aisle seat so I didn’t get to see anything.”

  “Well, this’ll give you the scenic view for sure,” he said, relaxing more now that he accepted she was not going to be a diva passenger in such a small plane—he’d had enough of those to be a little gun-shy when taking a woman on board.

  “We’re so close to the ground I can see the landscape. This is much better than a window seat in the big airliner anyway,” she proclaimed.

  “We’re flying at 13,500 feet so you’re able to see much more.” He smiled at her and added, “I’m glad you’ve relaxed.”

  “I’m sure I looked like a nervous-nellie when we first took off, but I’m really not afraid of flying. It wa
s just a strange turn of events.”

  “Did you know about your father leaving early?” he asked, wondering where she fell in the FBI’s need-to-know regulations.

  Shaking her head, she answered, “No. I even checked my phone to see if Dad sent me a message, but he didn’t.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  Nodding, she realized he could not see her head when he was facing forward. “Yeah, it is. Dad and I are pretty close, and not just professionally.”

  Marc pondered that tidbit of information for a moment, determined to check on her father when he had a chance. Maybe they took his phone from him or told him not to contact her until she was in D.C. Wanting to know more, he asked, “So what were you told this morning?”

  “About Dad?” Seeing Marc’s head nod, she said, “I had set my alarm for about five a.m. because they said I needed to leave the hotel at six. I got up, got ready, and then Agent Pierce came to my room. He told me that our flight plans had changed. He said that our building in Louisiana had had a break-in and security had been breached. Then he told me that they flew dad out in the middle of the night to get back there to check on the status of our research labs.”

  “And for you?”

  “He said that they had the private plane that was supposed to take Dad still ready to go, but that I’d be on it, since I was going to take Dad’s place in reporting to Homeland Security.”

  Nodding silently, Marc tried to find a hole in Kevin’s reasoning, but had to admit it seemed legit. Looking down, he said, “We’re crossing into Canadian airspace now. You can see the western mountains below.”

  Grumbling, she slid her glasses off her face and put them in her purse. Seeing him twist to look at her, she explained, “I have contacts but they bother me when I have a headache. So, I’ve got this old pair of glasses, but they really don’t fit well.”

  “Hopefully the flight will be easy and you can just rest your eyes,” he replied.

  “Are we allowed to fly here?” she asked, looking out the window.

  “Let’s just say that the Saints have permission granted by more than just the U.S. Government, in order to take care of business.”

  Laughing, she replied, “Wow, that sounds so clandestine! I feel like I’m in a James Bond movie!” She turned from the window and stared at the back of his head for a moment, considering what he just said about the Saints, and wondered how far off the mark she was with her James Bond comment.

  Just as she was about to ask more, he began speaking into the mouthpiece connected to his headphones, codes and numbers that were all gibberish to her. With his attention in front of him, she stared unabashedly. He had shucked his jacket before climbing aboard and his black t-shirt strained at his arms, allowing her a peek at a tattoo on his bicep. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, not like the slightly long hair of many of her academic counterparts. His skin was tanned and, with the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, he appeared to spend a lot of time in the sun. Everything about him bespoke of power and control and yet, with her, he had been gentle and kind.

  Looking down at her hands, she noted how pale she was. I need to get outside more! Her mind rolled to work and she wondered what was happening at the lab. Pulling out her phone she checked again to see if she had received a text, but no messages had come through. She decided not to wait on her father and sent a message to her lab assistant, Karen.

  Dad flew home – what is status at lab? Break-in? Please let me know as soon as you can.

  A moment later, a quick reply pinged on her phone. I have no idea what’s happening. I’ll check in and then give you a call.

  Rubbing her head, she was grateful for the pain reliever Marc had insisted she take before they left. Looking back down at her phone, the lack of communication from the lab was frustrating. Closing her eyes for a moment, she realized worrying about the situation would not help, so she began to think about the interview with the Homeland Security agents when she arrived at D.C. Dad was supposed to handle this! The symposium had been interesting from a research standpoint, but the International Olympic Committee representatives had hounded her and her father about possible terrorist activities. She readily accepted that the threat was real, but preferred her work in the lab to dealing with the politics of biological terrorist activity.

  Grimacing, she wondered once more how her father was handling the situation. Chewing on her bottom lip, she calculated the things she would need to do as soon as she got back to the labs.

  Marc glanced over his shoulder as he heard a heavy sigh coming from behind him. He saw her pained expression and said, “You should just lean back and rest.”

  She turned, seeing him staring back at her. Assuming he did not desire any more conversation, she nodded. Snapping a few pictures out of the window, she tucked her phone into her purse before leaning her head against the headrest. Following his suggestion, she closed her eyes, willing the gentle movement of the plane to ease her into a nap.

  Marc occasionally looked into the back seat, checking on Kendall. Her head lolled to the side, but she was asleep and he did not want to disturb her. Having a chance to study her in secret, he noticed she was prettier than he first thought, but every bit as fragile as she had originally appeared. Giving a mental shake, he chastised himself for even looking at her as anything other than a client. Sure as hell not like the women I go for. The woman from the last camping trip ran through his mind, but he had to admit he could not pull her face…or name…up in his mind. Guess that’s what happens when it’s nothing but physical.

  Calling in his coordinates, he focused on the flight and not the woman sleeping in the back seat. Gonna be a long flight… with way too much time to think about things I shouldn’t be.

  *

  An hour later with Kendall still sleeping, Marc talked to Jack. “What did Nick find out about the security breach at the NCBRT?”

  “That’s why I called,” Jack said. “Nick’s been on the phone all morning and is still pissed as hell. It seems that it was a false alarm. The NCBRT wasn’t actually broken into. Alarms did go off and security tapes showed a couple of dark-clothed figures in the campus building, but no one actually made it inside the research center.”

  “What does Nick think?”

  “Not sure. He’s doing a lot of checking and raising questions, but we’ve got few answers right now.”

  Marc’s mind raced as he looked back, checking on his passenger. “Jack, it sounds like Nick’s going on the assumption that there’s something up with Kenneth Rhodes. What if it’s the daughter that someone is interested in?”

  “I thought about that and it’s another reason I wanted to make contact. I know you can’t get here any faster than you already are, but I don’t like what I’m hearing.”

  “We’re over the western mountains of Canada right now and she’s sleeping. I’m going to let her sleep and we’ll land for a break in a few hours.”

  “Stay in contact. I’ve got Luke watching your progress.”

  Disconnecting, Marc checked his gauges as he looked out at the vista below. The beautiful scenery, which normally reinforced his love of flying, had him thinking of the vast wilderness laid out in front of him. Sighing heavily, he willed the plane to go faster.

  *

  Another hour passed as Marc stared at the instrument panel in front of him, unwilling to admit what he was seeing: his fuel gauge was dropping rapidly. Double checking, he realized he must be leaking gasoline. Fuck! How the hell did this happen? Instantly his mind jumped to the only conclusion—sabotage. And we’re nowhere near an airport. Hell, it was as though whoever did this knew exactly how far he would get when the fuel ran out! Mountains rose below him and, beyond that, thick forests of trees straight to the horizon.

  “Kendall!” he shouted.

  Jerking awake, she roused forward sleepily, blinking rapidly. “Huh? What?”

  “I need you to make sure you’re strapped in tightly. Pull on the shoulder harness and lap belt firmly until you can�
��t move.”

  Hearing the alarm in his voice, she immediately swept the sleep from her eyes and grabbed the seat belt. “What’s happening?”

  Not answering her, she listened as he began speaking into his radio again.

  “Luke! Got a problem! I’m fucking sure someone has sabotaged my plane. I’m leaking fuel but the fuel gauge has been tampered with so I wouldn’t notice the loss. No. No. I’m not sending an alarm ‘cause I’m betting someone is going to be listening to see where we go down. You call it in to the official channels that you trust.”

  Hearing the situation from the back seat, Kendall looked out the window but the ground seemed to be as far away as before. Swinging her head back to the front, her chest heaved with each breath as she listened.

  “No, no. Got no fuckin’ idea. Get a lock on us and stay with us. There’s nothing but forest below and no fuckin’ road. It’s like someone knew our flight route and fuckin’ planned where we’d have to go down. Get hold of Nick and our Canadian contact. Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

  Kendall’s mind finally caught up to the situation she was hearing. We’re going down! Oh, my God! Unbuckling quickly, she pulled out of her seat and moved forward.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Marc yelled as her head popped up beside his.

  “I want to come up here and sit with you,” she explained.

  “No, get back and get buckled in!”

  “But—”

  “No buts! Get back. I’ve got to concentrate and can’t be worrying about you right now,” he barked.

  “Can I help?” she pleaded.

  “No…I need you to be buckled tightly in the back where you’ll be more protected.”

  Nodding, she moved back into her seat, re-buckling the seatbelt and harness. Breathing rapidly, she felt lightheaded as she grabbed the armrests, holding on as her eyes turned back to the window.

  Marc’s focus alternated between the instrument panels and intensely searching the horizon.