“Hey,” he said.
“Hey yourself,” she said, hugging him tightly. She’d been waiting here for nearly six hours. Zen and Jennifer had arrived on the islands on a commercial flight out of Japan, which Iowa and the rest of her crew returned directly to Dreamland, their deployment over.
“I was worried about you,” Dog told Jennifer.
“Me?” She took a step down to the Tarmac. “Why?”
“Because I was worried,” said Dog.
“Oh, please. Why would you worry?”
Seeing he was going to explain, Jennifer did the only sensible thing — she leaned close and kissed him.
“People are watching,” he said when they parted.
“You think we can do better?”
Without waiting for an answer, Jennifer kissed him again. When their lips parted, Jennifer leaned her head back slightly, then smiled.
“Third time’s a charm,” she said, kissing him again. It did do the trick; she felt him finally relax.
“What’s the word on Breanna?” he asked when they finally started walking away from the plane.
“She’s getting better,” said Jennifer. “She’s at Bright Memorial.”
“I’m going to go over there right now,” said Dog.
“I thought you would. I have a car waiting for you in front of the hangar.”
“You coming?”
“I’m supposed to have a phone conference with the people on the Piranha team in about fifteen minutes,” said Jennifer. “They’ve been asked to make a presentation to the White House first thing in the morning, so they’re scrambling. Ray talked to you?”
Dog nodded.
“It’s possible that the radar image is an echo of the Megafortress’s own Flighthawks,” she told him. “If the gear was malfunctioning because of the fire, it’s possible. We’ll have to carefully analyze the tape.”
“Dr. Rubeo doesn’t think that’s likely,” said Dog.
Jennifer nodded. She agreed with Ray.
“Where’s Zen?” Dog asked.
“I think he’s at the hospital. I haven’t seen him since we landed in Honolulu.”
Dog gave her one of his uh-grunts, the sort he used when he was processing several things at once. “We’ll hook up later,” he said.
“At the hotel,” she said. “We’ll have room service dinner and then R&R.”
“Sounds good.” He turned and kissed her again. “I love you,” he whispered.
“Hold that though,” she said, barely managing to twist herself away.
An hour later, Colonel Bastian waited at the visitor’s desk of Bright Memorial Hospital Honolulu as a volunteer fumbled through a stack of old-fashioned visitor cards, looking for Breanna’s room number. “I’ll find it, I’ll find it,” insisted the woman, talking more to herself than him.
Dog glanced down the hallway. His uniform would probably get him up to her room without a problem — except he wasn’t sure where exactly it was. Not only was the private hospital immense, it had been cobbled together under several different administrations. Each wing seemed to be a maze unto itself. He didn’t need a pass; he needed directions.
That or a GPS device.
“Here, oh, yes, here she is,” said the woman, pulling the card from her file. “Breanna Stockard. What sort of name is that?”
A name that her stubborn mother insisted on, thought Dog. He answered that it was Irish.
“Hmmm. She has a visitor,” added the volunteer after giving him directions and a color-coded map.
Probably Zen, thought Dog. But it was Danny Freah he found standing at Breanna’s bedside.
“Hey, you,” he told Breanna.
“Hi, Daddy,” She started to push up.
“It’s okay, baby,” he told her, putting his hand on her shoulder gently. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. She pulled her arms around him; he could feel her tears on his cheek.
His tears too, maybe.
“I’m damn glad you made it,” he told her.
“Me too.” She looked toward Danny.
“And you!” Dog turned and gave his captain a hug. “Thanks. Thanks.”
Danny, looking embarrassed, shrugged when Dog let him go.
“Where’s Jeff?” asked Breanna.
“I thought Zen was here already,” said Dog.
“I haven’t seen him since I woke up,” said Breanna.
“Probably ducked out for dinner or lunch or something. I’m sure he’ll be back,” said Dog. He felt a flush of anger at his son-in-law for not sitting at Breanna’s side, where he belonged.
“He flew the B-5,” said Danny, obviously sticking up for Zen. “That’s how we found you. They loaded a mini-KH package in the belly, rigged up a way for him to fly it from Iowa, and he found you. Thank God.”
“So where is he?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
Dog looked at Danny, who shrugged.
“TV was on when I came in,” said Danny. “You were just kind of drifting awake.”
Breanna’s face was puffy. Her eyes seemed to have trouble focusing, and Dog could tell that her head was fuzzy, either from concussion or from the painkillers they’d given her. She had sprained her wrist and torn ligaments in her knee during the ejection; she also had deep bruising to her sternum and back. But mostly she was just suffering from dehydration and exposure. The doctors had told Dog she’d be up and around in a day or so.
“CNN was saying India and China have agreed to a cease-fire,” said Danny, trying to change the subject. He laughed. “Of course, they also had unnamed sources claiming the Navy stopped a war. We did all the work, and they all get the credit.”
“Piranha has to remain secret,” said Dog. “And the Navy did do a lot.”
“Didn’t say they didn’t,” said Danny.
“I saw Chris die,” said Breanna. Her voice was weak and hoarse, but still the words seemed to shake the room. “He was my copilot. I couldn’t save him.”
Dog looked at her, unable to think of anything to say. “And Kevin. Did they find him?” she asked, referring to Fentress.
“We have to assume he’s dead, Bree.” Dog felt the words sticking to his throat, but he pushed them out, feeling it was his duty to tell her, not to sugarcoat anything, not to leave any doubt. “In that storm, with the rain and the wind, it probably took him under right away.”
“We made it,” she said.
Thank God, he thought, though all he could do was put his hand on hers.
Danny broke the awkward silence. “I have to get going. Bree, I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks.”
“Colonel, if I could just have a brief word? If you don’t mind, Bree.”
“Just give him back when you’re done,” she said.
Dog followed Danny outside and down the hall, around a corner.
“Thanks, Danny. You and your men did an incredible job.”
“Colonel, there’s just no good way to say this,” started Danny. His lower lip was trembling. “ I want to resign my commission. I want to leave the Air Force.”
“What?”
“It’s a lot of things.”
“Danny, you can’t leave now. Losing Sergeant Talcom, and the others — I know it was an incredible blow …”
“I’m not quitting because of that.” His voice wasn’t entirely convincing.
“I know it was — is — difficult,” said Dog. “For all of us, but you especially.”
Danny nodded. “It is. But I have an opportunity. It has nothing to do with Powder.”
“What kind of opportunity?”
“An election. Some people in New York want me to run for Congress. They think I can get the nomination. My wife’s pretty involved.”
“Congress? Really? Jesus — great,” said Dog sincerely. “Great. That is great.”
“You think so?”
“You’d be a hell of a Congressman — if you can deal with the bullshit.”