Not only had Rand never met El Tyler, he’d never actually met anyone who had met him. Wow.
Rand stood in a rush, nearly knocking over the small table next to his chair. He held out his hand and stammered a greeting. “Captain Tyler. Wow. What an honor, sir.” Then, to his great embarrassment, words just started coming out in a rush and he couldn’t seem to stop. “I am such a huge fan! I’ve read stories of nearly every battle you’ve fought. The Venusian ring conflict, the Pluto stronghold attacks, and even that chase through the Sirian asteroid belt last month. That was amazing! I even dug up why everyone calls you ‘El’ instead of E. L. It’s just such an honor.”
And through it all, while he gushed his praise and held out his offering hand, Tyler just stood there, palms on hips, not even acknowledging his existence. Finally, after a long moment, Rand dropped his hand, feeling both like a fool and a chastised child.
The gravelly, metallic voice from behind the blast-shield cut Rand to the bone. “I don’t know what you were thinking, Commander. I can’t possibly fly with Miflin.”
As Rand was about to open his mouth to protest the slur to his skills, Commander Berell growled what sounded suspiciously like an order. “You can and will, El. Miflin’s the best, and you damned well know it. Don’t make me pull rank.”
“He was a smuggler, Walter – for sale to the highest bidder. He can’t be trusted.”
Rand felt his cheeks grow hot. But he couldn’t deny his past. It had certainly been thrown in his face enough times. “That’s behind me now. I’m in this for the long haul. I’m loyal to the Terran rebellion.”
Now Tyler turned that shield to stare blankly at him. Rand could see his own head reflected in the mirrored surface. His face was a mix of emotions: angry, embarrassed, betrayed by a childhood hero; a thousand things. He adjusted his muscles until the expression that stared back in the reflection was calm and cold. But the words from behind the helmet quickly twisted them again. “For how long, Miflin?
You’ve been loyal for what – six months now? I have stains in my coffee mug older than that.”
“People change, El.” Berell’s voice was soft but matter-of-fact. “You did. I think it’s time to show him how much. I’ll vouch for him.”
That made Rand’s brows rise. How had El “changed”? He thought he knew everything about El Tyler’s past. Perfect student, jet-fighter pilot in the last war between two minor Middle Eastern countries – back when there were only Americans, French, Greek, Iranians and other nationalities. Before the Stovians. Before the real world war began. But he’d never heard even a hint about any sort of shady past.
There was nothing to change there, that he’d heard of.
“If one single word of this gets out, Miflin—” Tyler reached up and touched a spot on his helmet Rand hadn’t noticed before. The voice behind the shield suddenly altered. It became higher-pitched, lighter.
“Well, let’s say nobody who matters will ever fly with you again . . .”
As Rand watched in amazement, the hands reached up and pulled off the helmet. Then Rand’s mouth gaped so wide he could feel air on the back of his tongue. Blonde hair, the color of a sunflower, flowed down and down, past a heart-shaped jaw and a slender neck, to the heavy armor of a suit that he now realized obviously didn’t fit a woman’s slender frame. Worse, it wasn’t just any woman. Officer Ellen Grayson was the cop who’d finally caught him and put him in jail. A cop, by the way, who had worked for the Stovians, after they’d taken over, before the rebellion started.
It couldn’t be. The great Captain Tyler . . . a woman? No. There was no way El Tyler could be the same person as this cop. “You’re not El Tyler.” And he could prove it. Before he realized it, he was five steps forward, sticking a finger in her face. To her credit, she didn’t flinch. “You were a beat cop, flying patrols, when the real Captain Tyler was running raids on the Stovians’ moon base. You’re the same age as me – too young to have been the pilot at the Pluto armory attack.” Also too gorgeous. Damn, she had looked good in her tight black planetary police uniform. The shapeless mess she had on now wasn’t worthy of that figure.
Her voice was calm when she responded. “Like the commander said . . . people change. Sometimes legends have to change, too.” He wasn’t sure how to take that comment, and neither she nor Berell elaborated. She paused and then accepted a glass of water the commander was holding out. “But you can be sure that I am El Tyler. I did fly in the Sirian asteroid battle and I kicked butt. And I am the best damned pilot you’re ever likely to meet.” She drank the water slowly, giving him time to think.
Did he trust her? No. But Berell did. And as much as he hated to admit it, she was the only one who had ever managed to catch him. If he had anyone to thank for being in the resistance, it was her.
Damn it.
“Fine. I’ll do it. Just tell me where and when to be.”
Commander Berell gave him a short nod and held out his hand to shake Rand’s. Grayson, aka Tyler, didn’t say a word. But he could swear he saw her smile before she put the helmet back over her face.
Two
Why had she agreed to this? Every warning signal in her head, plus several more scattered through her body, told her it was a bad idea. Yet here she was, squished less than a foot away from the most dangerous man she’d ever met.
“Cozy, huh?” Rand Miflin whispered inches from her ear. The rush of warm air against her skin made her shiver. “Been waiting to get this close to you for a long time.”
She didn’t respond. Couldn’t. After a long pause, he changed tack to try humor. “Should we have mentioned to the supply sergeant we’re more than four feet tall?”
A safe topic. Good. El likewise kept her voice low enough not to be heard by any passing sound-
detectors. The words came out in a gravelly baritone. “I know it’s uncomfortable. But making the run in a Jupiter Javelin is the only chance we have to get close enough to Stovia for this to work.”
Miflin grunted and struggled to extend his leg into a space not meant for a six-foot male. “Yeah, yeah. I read the briefing too. It’s the only ship small enough to fit into the hold of the grain transport that makes regular runs to the planet. It’s dense enough from the heavy metals that it’ll look like an asteroid on scanners. But I do actually need to have feeling in my feet and hands in order to operate the equipment.”
He unlatched his restraints and crawled clumsily out of his seat. “I’m going to wiggle back to what’s considered the lavatory on this heap. Don’t . . . wander off while I’m gone.” He chuckled at his own joke while El rolled her eyes.
As soon as he disappeared through the tiny doorway, she was able to take her first deep breath in the last hour. She hadn’t dared to breathe normally while Rand was in the cockpit. That cologne he wore affected her just as badly as it had when she’d first met him. The vital-sign monitors would pick up her racing heart if she wasn’t careful. She wished she could have lied and told him the Stovians had “human sniffers”, so he couldn’t wear the subtle, musky fragrance.