Maybe he would. He had proven remarkably resilient, even taking the destruction of his aircraft collection in stride. Zen decided he would try to keep an open mind — at least for the next eighteen hours they were to spend on Brunei.
“So you ready to resume our picnic?” Breanna asked him as the ceremony finally ended.
“I don’t really feel like picnicking,” he told her.
“You want to stay for the reception?” She glanced toward the side of the large palace room, where the crowd of dignitaries was heading toward the first of several large parties planned in their honor.
“Of course not,” said Zen. “Dog said we could slip out, and I’m taking him at his word”
“What then?”
“Why don’t we go to the restaurant at the hotel, sit in the quiet corner way in the back, have lunch — then go upstairs for some personal time in the room”
Breanna raised her eyebrows.
“You look good in that scarf,” Zen told her. She’d had to cover her head for the ceremony — even heroes were expected to be modest, at least when they were women.
“Maybe I’ll wear it at after lunch,” Breanna retorted.
“I don’t think so,” said Zen. And then, remembering their last telephone conversation before things got tight on Brunei, he added, “Maybe we can discuss the kid thing later.”
“The ‘kid thing’?”
“Yeah. We can talk about it.” He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant and honest at the same time. He wasn’t so sure about the former, but the latter was a must. “I haven’t made up my mind. We need to seriously talk.”
“We are,” she said. She bent over and kissed him.
“Fight fair,” he told her.
“Who’s fighting?”
Jennifer had donned a long dress with an elaborate scarf as a sign of propriety for the ceremony. It was everything Dog could do to keep himself from staring at her the whole time. He managed to get next to her as they walked to the reception room in the palace and gently touched her elbow.
“You’re the most beautiful woman here,” he whispered.
“I’m the only woman here,” she said.
There were others, actually, but Dog had a ready answer. “As far as I’m concerned, you are.”
“That’s good,” she said, sliding her arm through his. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk with your wife.”
“What?” said Dog.
“I thought it might be fun.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“Should I be threatened?”
“Hardly.”
She reached up and touched the side of his face. “I want to know everything there is to know about you.”
Dog looked into her eyes. He felt an almost irresistible urge to sweep her into his arms and kiss her. The only reason he didn’t was the certainty that he’d never settle for a kiss.
“Colonel, excuse me. Can I have a word?”
Dog turned. Major Mack Smith — now Sir Lord Protector of the Kingdom Mack Smith — stood next to him.
“You have poor timing, Major.”
“I’m sorry” He turned to Jennifer. “I’m sorry. Excuse me just a second. I really am sorry.”
“You feeling okay, Major?” asked Dog. Ordinarily, Mack didn’t apologize to anyone, not even him.
“I’m fine. Can we talk? Over here, out of the way.”
Dog followed Mack toward the side of the room, away from the swirl of dignitaries and officials filling the hall.
“I want to come back to Dreamland,” said Mack.
“But you’re rich. You’re a hero here.”
“This isn’t for me. I don’t want the money:’
Dog looked at Smith. He’d been through a lot, not just during his brief captivity but in the weeks leading up to it.
“You can’t just walk away from the sultan and the prince. The air force needs you.”
“They have McKenna,” said Mack. He pointed across the room, where the Brunei air force commodore — in a dress, no less — was holding court with other members of the central defense ministry. “She’s ten times as competent an administrator as I was, she has those bozos eating out of her hand. And between you and me, Colonel, she may even be a better pilot than I am”
“Mack, I don’t think I’ve heard you say that about anyone,” said Dog.
Smith shrugged. “Can I come back?”
“Well, uh, sure. Of course. I mean, I don’t know if I have a specific slot but, of course. We can work it out”
“Thanks, Colonel. I appreciate it.”
“Where are you going?” Dog asked as Mack turned around.
“Take a walk, get some food. Get my gear. Say good-bye for me, would you?”
“Mack—”
Smith didn’t stop.
Chapter 107
Sahurah made his way slowly down the street. With each step, the pain pummeled the side of his head. But soon — very, very soon — he would be free of pain.
He would be in Paradise.
When he was fifty feet from the entrance of the hotel, he saw a man walking toward him. At first glance, something about the man caught his attention. It was not simply the fact that the man was a Westerner. There was something about the stride that was hauntingly familiar. Though the sides of his head pounded, Sahurah stopped in the street.
It was the man who had saved him at the airport, Smith.
How was it that he was still alive? And here?
Only if he was a devil, surely.
Sahurah started to run toward the hotel.
Mack saw the man in the long coat glare at him, then bolt for the nearby building.
Weird stinking place, he thought to himself.
Then he realized who it was.
“Hey!” he yelled, chasing after the man. “Hey!”
The man reached the threshold of the hotel. Mack yelled at the doorman to stop him. As he did, he tripped over the step and lost his footing, flying headfirst into the ornate pillar that separated the portico from the building. He managed to get to his knees and somehow slid forward, pushing himself toward the man.
“Stop him!” he yelled, pushing past the guards.
Sahurah glanced over his shoulder as he entered the doorway of the restaurant. Mack half leapt, half fell, stretching out his arm in a desperate attempt to grab the terrorist.
“I’ll be right back,” said Breanna, getting up from the table. “I have to use the powder room”
“I’ll be here,” said Zen. He maneuvered his chair slightly to get a glimpse of the pianist, who was set up in the corner near the front of the large room. Breanna had had to insist that they be given a table back here off to the side; the waiters felt it wasn’t dignified enough for national heroes and wanted the couple up front where everyone could see them. Zen would have ordered room service instead; he didn’t want to be gawked at. In his mind, the hero stuff was just cover to “sneak a peek at the geek in the chair.”
He turned and watched his wife walk down the hall. The ladies room was at the far end, providing a fine opportunity for an extended view of his wife’s very attractive figure as she walked.
He was just turning back around when he heard a commotion at the front of the room. Someone screamed, and then Zen felt himself being slammed backward to the floor.
Breanna felt the explosion just as she closed the door to the restroom. The floor rumbled and someone shrieked; she slipped as she pulled the door open, falling to her knees. Six or seven people ran past as she finally opened it. Dust was thick in the air. The lights blinked out. She started back toward the dining room where she’d left her husband.