Nick lowered his voice. ‘Listen mate, why don’t you to come back to Washington with me? It’s going to be tough convincing those sceptics back there. Besides, I reckon you shouldn’t hang ‘round here, it’s going to be a bloody catastrophe when that lot goes off.’
‘Thanks Nicky, but you don’t need me. I’ll get Sam to take me back to Unimak. I want to get my records and make sure my men get out of there. I’ve spent way too long up here to walk away and leave it all behind. Maybe I’ll join you later.’
‘Do you think it will matter? Nothing will be the same again!’
Ya.’ He sighed. ‘I s’pose you’re right, but you know me. Never give up.’
Nick boarded the Veto and waved a fond farewell to his old friend who presented a desolate figure standing alone on the edge of the pad as he waved back. His friendly blue eyes no longer smiled and his face held a grave expression as he tugged at his beard. The Veto lifted off and Nick leaned against the window to take one last look at his ship, his eyes remained fixed on her outline as she receded, dissolving into nothing more than a speck on the ocean. Not being a religious man he found himself praying for his men and their safety. It would be quite a trip, he thought, whilst unconsciously chewing a fingernail until it’s tips oozed tiny red droplets.
After a long uncomfortable flight into Anchorage, Nick settled into the comparative luxury of the old 777 jet bound for Washington. Knowing relaxation would be impossible, he sought to sooth his frayed nerves with a nudge from his favourite amber fluid and buzzed the flight attendant. ‘A double scotch. On the rocks, please love.’ He sighed.’Got any black label?’
While he waited for his drink he dialled Josh Harrington’s number in Washington and was somewhat soothed by the warm deep voice on the other end. ‘Nick, where the hell have your been? I expected you back weeks ago.’
‘Good to hear from you too. I’m on my way back. Can you meet me at Dulles? My flight gets in at ten. Three twenty-two from Anchorage.’
‘Anchorage? What’re you doing there?’
‘It’s along story, mate.’ He sighed. ‘Look forward to seeing you.’
‘Ten. Right. I’ll be there.’
Nick hung up just as the flight attendant brought his drink, which he quickly swallowed an ordered another. After the third drink he began to unwind and felt the pressure lifting. He closed his eyes and eased the seat back into the reclining position and allowed his mind to shift direction towards Laura and more pleasant times.
Chapter Seven
Nick had met Laura Forrest two years previously at the historical Lincoln Hotel in Washington, when they each had attended a Government reception for a team of visiting English Scientists.
His first impression of the Jefferson function room was of an aircraft hanger, festooned as it was with giant crystal chandeliers, draped like parachutes from one end of the ceiling to the other. He admonished himself for being conned into another of these superfluous ‘do’s’. Josh was always trying to pair him off with some glamorous socialite. He just wasn’t interested, there was no room in his solitary life for a woman.
He poked his finger between his neck and the bow tie of the hired tuxedo Josh insisted he wear. He felt like a galah. It was too tight and the shiny black shoes hurt his feet. The man at the hire shop had suggested Nick cut his hair to which he agreed. Yet there it was, tied back in it’s usual manner, lending him that devil-may-care reputation he held dear.
Soft music droned from an alcove on one side of the room and Nick sniggered as a tall penguin flapped before him holding a tray of fluffy champagne in pink glasses.
‘Got any real drinks mate?’
The waiter looked at him like he was a cockroach on his shoe. ‘What would you like sir?’
‘Scotch thanks, and make it black label.’
‘I’ll see what I can find.’ He sniffed.
The disdain in the waiter’s voice somehow pleased Nick and he waited patiently for his return, so he could bristle his feathers with another barb. Within minutes the waiter was back and presented a tray holding a solitary glass, a small ice bucket, and a bottle of soda.
‘Thanks mate, but you can keep the ice and the fizzy.’ Nick held the glass up to the light examining the golden colour and grinned. ‘Keep ‘em coming.’
The waiter tossed his head and went back to his duties.
Nick was enjoying his drink and was wondering how he could make a break from this circus, when a soft hand touched his shoulder.
‘Hi. You look bored.’
He swung around to see who owned the husky voice, and smiled at the stunning small figure swathed in red sparkling sequins standing before him. ‘Hello.’ She said. ‘I’m Laura Forrest. Are you alone?’
‘Matter-of-fact I am. Nick. Nick Torrens. Er, nice to meet you.’ He moved to shake her hand but remembered it was not polite to shake a woman’s hand unless she offered hers first, and quickly stuck his in his trouser pocket.
‘You’re not from around here are you?’
‘No, I’m not, far from it.’ He glanced around the room. ‘Um, nice place.’ Nick shuffled his feet and took a swig of his scotch. He always found it hard to relate to women, because his life was spent mostly in the company of men. Something told him he would need all his confidence with this one.
‘You’re Australian.’ She said. ‘I’d recognise that accent anywhere. How did they manage to drag you here? You look so, out of place?’
‘Yeah I am. Um, to tell you the truth I was just trying to figure a way out. My mate Josh Harrington invited me.’
‘Harrington. Isn’t he something to do with Science and Research at the Capitol?’
‘Yeah, d’you know him?’
Her dark eyes twinkled. ‘I’ve heard of him. He has an office in the same building as mine.’
‘Oh, and what sort of work do you do?’ The words were out before Nick realised he was being a little too inquisitive.
‘I’m a Senator.’
‘You’re a Senator? I’m impressed! You don’t look like a Senator.’ Nick felt his confidence growing.
She laughed again and her smooth olive face crinkled. Dense dark lashes like tropical fans swept lazily over coal-black eyes. Like many American women her smile dazzled and her large eyes fascinated him. An uncomfortable sensation stirred him as those eyes locked directly onto his.
‘Oh. What does a Senator look like?’
‘I’m sorry. Er, I didn’t mean to offend you.’ Nick said. ‘Politicians are a tough lot and you don’t look tough.’
She frowned and he wished he could bite back the words.
‘Well, you’re certainly no politician.’ She hesitated, and Nick guessed she was about to comment on his lack of tact, but instead her face opened into a broad smile.’Only someone who spends all his time outdoors could have a tan like yours.’
‘You’re right, I’m not a politician. D’you wanna share the outdoors with me for a while?’ He nodded toward the balcony. ‘We could um, get out of this crowd.’
‘Okay. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but you interest me. It’s good to meet someone in Washington who’s not in politics for a change.’
He led her onto the balcony where they finished their drinks making small talk while other guests fluttered in and out. They made a handsome couple; a big handsome tanned man with rich brown hair streaked light by the sun and tied back in a ponytail, and a beautiful petite dark-haired woman in red.
She looked so inviting he forgave her politician’s prattle and decided he would like to get to know her better. ‘Let’s get out of here, nobody will miss us.’
‘What did you have in mind?’
‘Some place quieter. Some coffee?’
‘Sounds like a great idea, but what about your friend, Josh?’