The debriefings went smoothly and quickly. Both Annie and Dev knew the real work was ahead of them, so they tried to relax, be as helpful as possible, and as clear and concise as their patience and level of weariness would possibly allow. Each aircraft continuously burst-transmitted encoded data via satellite back to Dreamland during every sortie, so there was no lack of hard information; but the aircrews’ testimony was necessary to match the raw numbers with the operators input and perspective. It would be even more valuable when it came time to begin designing new and better systems to avoid any deficiencies encountered during the mission. As long as humans flew war machines, they would always need as much, perhaps more, data from the humans as they did from the machines themselves.
After many hours of wave after wave of engineers coming into the conference room to ask questions, Annie realized that it was over — and that David Luger had never shown up. She collected her notes and checklists and took a last sip of water, crestfallen.
“What’s up, AC?” Dev asked. He was still as pumped up and animated as he had been when he got off the C-141—he had the strength and stamina of a cheetah. “You look down. Tired?”
“A little,” she said evasively.
“What can I do to cheer you up?” Dev asked. He began to gently massage her, starting from behind her ears and moving down her neck to her shoulders. “I must warn you, my hands are licensed.”
“Yeah, right.”
“It’s true — I’m a licensed doctor of chiropractic and a licensed massage therapist,” Dev said. “You think there’s any money in being an Air National Guard B-1 radar navigator? I work singles’ resorts six months out of the year, make ten times what I do in the Guard, and I get to put my hands on beautiful women all day long. It’s a great racket.”
Annie felt her body tense up when Dev first touched her, but after only a few seconds, it was obvious that he did indeed have very skilled hands. He seemed to know precisely where to rub hard and where and when to do it softly. In moments, her body was relaxing in the grasp of Deverill’s warm, powerful hands. “That feels so good, Dev.”
“Thank you,” he said softly. He continued to caress her, now expertly working the myriad of knots out of her spine and back muscles. The tension was rinsing away under his fingers like a torch to ice. “I know I’ve said it already, but I want to say it again: thank you for digging me out of the snow and rescuing me.”
“You would’ve done the same for me — only better, I hope,” Annie said. “Thank you for supporting my decisions, as half-assed as they were. I know you didn’t agree with all of them, but you backed me up anyway. It meant a lot.”
“You’re the aircraft commander — it’s my responsibility to back you up and offer my opinion, and your responsibility to make the decisions,” Dev said. “You did everything you were supposed to do, and more. You saved my life and the lives of many others. You should be proud of yourself. I am very proud of you.” She felt his lips on the back of her neck, and the touch sent high-voltage electric currents throughout her body.
“Did you know,” he said, suddenly breaking the mood change between them, “that the muscles of the body build up huge quantities of lactic acid during periods of stress and fatigue — a by-product of anaerobic respiration, where the muscles bum glucose in the absence of oxygen? Lactic acid causes fatigue and can even cause cramps and muscle deterioration. The acids will eventually work their way out over time, but a properly done massage helps the lactic acid move out quicker.”
“Is that why it feels sooo damn good?” Annie cooed.
“Exactly.”
“Mmn. Well, it does,” she said. She let him continue his work. Normally she was extraordinarily ticklish, but he was even able to massage her sides and ribs without her reacting at all. His hands moved down to the base of her spine, almost to her buttocks, but there was no way she was going to let him stop. “So tell me, Dev — why did you feel the need to tell me the technical reasons for a massage? Do you think I’ll respond better if it’s done in a more scientific atmosphere? Once a test pilot, always a test pilot?”
“It’s working, isn’t it?” he responded. When he felt her body stiffen in protest, he added quickly, “No, no, that’s not why. Only kidding.” She gave him a humorous sneer, but relaxed and let him continue. “Maybe I told you the technical theory behind massages to distract you from the fact that I’m touching you — and loving every last second of it.”
Annie turned away from him, ending the massage therapy, and gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, partner,” she said. “I appreciate the massage — and the thought.”
“I hear a ‘but’ coming,” he said. He took her hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes. “Annie, wait a minute. I gotta get this out before I explode.”
“Dev, now’s not the time—”
“Yes, it is. I’m crazy about you. I have been for a long time, ever since you joined the unit. We’ve gone out a few times, but you’ve always treated it as either a casual meeting with a superior officer talking business, or palling around with your older brother. Beyond that, you’ve been too busy to notice me. You’re acting like our one-and-only night together was wrong, that I should be ashamed of what we did.
“I’m putting you on notice, Annie, that I’m not going to do that anymore. One thing I learned from this ordeal that I didn’t tell the debriefers tonight is that life is too short. If you want something, you’d better go for it now, because tomorrow you might find yourself facedown in snow unconscious after ejecting from a supersonic bomber over hostile territory.” Annie laughed in spite of herself — if it hadn’t actually happened to them, she would really think it was funny.
“Dev—”
“It’s Colonel Luger, isn’t it?” Deverill asked. Annie looked into his eyes and nodded. “Pardon me, Annie, but that guy is a little weird, don’t you think? I mean, I’ve known workaholics before in my time, but he’s got them all beat. It’s like he’s possessed or something.” He could tell she was rejecting his observations — but he could also tell that she knew his observations were correct. “Where is he tonight, Annie? If he’s your man, why isn’t he here with you? Everyone else turned out for our arrival — where was Luger?” She couldn’t answer him, because she didn’t know, and didn’t understand.
“I’m not going to bad-mouth the guy, and I’m not going to say anything else, except this: I want you, Annie,” Deverill said. “I think we have something together. I want to find out. I think you do, too. And if Colonel Luger wants you, he has a funny way of showing it. You deserve a lot more than that. I can give it to you. Can he?” He gave her a kiss on the forehead, a soft, lingering kiss, as warm as his hands. “I’m not going to make you decide now, Annie,” he added sincerely. “But I also have to remind you: I get what I want. I think you want something more, too.” He then departed, leaving her a smile and a light touch on her cheek. “I’ll call you.
Annie stood by herself for several long moments without moving, trying but failing to sort out all of the conflicting emotions racing through her head and her heart. There was a decision to be made, questions to be answered. She apparently wasn’t going to get any answers tonight, because the man she loved wasn’t with her to offer them. Annie considered using the subcutaneous transceiver to call him, and then decided against it. She picked up her helmet bag and headed for the dormitories and some well-deserved and much-needed rest.