“And what do I do? Fly Stratobladders? No thanks,” Rinc said. “I’ve put in my time in support squadrons. I’m part owner of a good business here in Reno, and I get a stick and throttles and windows in my planes, even the little piston-powered ones. Why would I give that up?”
“How about for me?” Rebecca asked, a little crossly. “Do it so we can stay together. Start a branch of your flying service down there. Fly for the airlines — you have lots of experience, a commercial license, an Airline Transport Pilot rating. Get a corporate position. Or just come down and be with me. You’re a young guy. You can do anything you want. I don’t have as many opportunities as you, Rinc. When I find a good one, I have to go for it.” She could tell that not only was he not considering the idea, he was decidedly uncomfortable even thinking about it. “Or does the idea of following a woman’s career totally gross you out?”
“It’s not that…”
“Bullshit. What is it, then? My age?”
“Hey, I’ve never thought of you as an ‘older woman,’” Rinc said angrily. “You know that. You’re as sexy and vibrant and hot as any college hard-body.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Rebecca asked. “C’mon, Rinc. Give it a try.”
“I don’t know,” Rinc said. Rebecca sensed that he was wrestling with an even greater dilemma than just their future together. “It’s just… well, I was getting a little tired of the Air Guard scene. I was looking forward to settling down and taking it easy with this little flying service in Reno.”
“Well, don’t fly for the Guard,” she said. “Do other stuff.”
“But I’d be exposed to it all the time, being with you. I’m not sure if I want that.”
“Why, for Christ’s sake? You don’t have to have anything to do with the Guard, except maybe a few social-type functions. You can handle that. Besides, if you’re doing your corporate or airline thing, you’ll probably be on the road most of the time anyway.”
“Yeah, but I’ll be involved because you’ll be involved.”
“So? I still don’t get it.” She looked at him for several long moments; then: “What is it, Rodeo? Tell me.” He remained silent, his eyes darting back and forth as if reliving some horrible event in his life. Now she studied his face intently, reading the thoughts and emotions that seemed to cross it — and not liking what she was sensing. “It’s not that you don’t want to be around me, Rinc,” she said in a quiet, strained voice, “is it? You don’t want to be around the Air Guard. Why?” Still no response. “Rinc, you gotta tell me. It’s about the accident, right?”
“No.”
“Tell me, Rinc. Get it off your chest. It’s all history now, lover.”
“Forget about it. It’s nothing.”
“I can’t forget about it until you do,” Rebecca said. “It’s obvious that whatever is bugging you is standing between us. I need to know. Please.”
Rinc started to pace the office. Every step he took seemed to cause him immense pain, but Rebecca knew the true pain was in his soul. “You lost it that day, didn’t you, Rinc?”
Rinc’s eyes were fixed on the floor. “Yes,” he said in a low, barely audible voice. “It was nuts on that plane, Beck. It wasn’t recovering. We were practically upside down. I thought I could recover it. Mad Dog had his fingers on the PREPARE TO EJECT switch, and I told him no. I kept on saying, ‘I got it, I got it.’ I suddenly realized I was going to fly it all the way into the ground, and I didn’t issue a command — I just went.”
“Rinc, it’s all right,” Rebecca said, going to him and taking his hand. “The important thing is, you got out alive…”
“Like hell it is!” John Long shouted. He was standing in the doorway of Rebecca’s office, his eyes bulging in fury. “So you finally admit it — you did screw up!”
“John, get out,” Rebecca said. “This is between him and me.”
But Long had already sped into the office and he shoved Seaver back against Rebecca’s desk. Rinc made no attempt to resist. Long pinned him against the desk and started pummeling him with his right fist. “You bastard!” he shouted. “You cowardly bastard! You caused that accident! You caused that crash! You killed those men! My friends are dead because of you!”
Furness had no choice — she jabbed her right elbow back into Long’s face, then pushed him away. He flew backward, blood spurting from his nose.
“So that’s why you’ve been protecting him — you two have been screwing each other all this time,” Long said, holding his nose to try to stop the bleeding. “God damn you…”
“That’s enough, Colonel!”
“I’m not your subordinate anymore, bitch!” Long snapped. “And even if I was, I call ’em like I see ’em. You covered up for him even though you suspected something was wrong. How can you do that, Furness? How can you cover up for a piece of shit like that, over the rest of your unit? There’s no dick or piece of ass good enough for anyone to turn on their own!”
“Shut up!” Rebecca shouted. “Just shut the fuck up, Long!” He finally stopped and glared at them both. Seaver picked himself up off the desk, not bothering to cover up a cut lip and bruised cheek. “Both of you, knock it off. This is getting us nowhere. What’s done is done.”
“Not for me it isn’t,” Long shot back. “Not until Seaver admits what he did in front of the squadron and to the adjutant general. Then I want to see him drummed out of the Guard.”
“Go to hell, Long,” Seaver said, his voice defiant but his eyes and expression showing the pain and hurt he was feeling. “Yes, I jumped out without giving a command. Yes, I was too aggressive down low while TF’ing. Yes, I relied on the automatic system to punch everyone out. But my crew didn’t die because of me! Those smoky SAMs hit us, we couldn’t recover…”
“You piece of shit!” Long shouted. “You’re still blaming something else for what you did.” Long took a threatening step toward Seaver.
Rebecca got up to block Long’s path again. “I said, knock it off!” Then she realized that someone else was standing in the doorway to her office. It was none other than Lieutenant Colonel Hal Briggs and another lieutenant colonel whom Rebecca recognized as General McLanahan’s deputy and one of the members of his inspection team. The way Briggs’s field jacket bulged, it was obvious he was still wearing the little submachine gun she remembered seeing at Dreamland.
“We interrupting something here, Colonel?” Briggs asked with his seemingly ever-present smile. He nodded at John Long and added, “Looks like you got blood on you again, Colonel Long, except this time it’s your own blood.”
“As a matter of fact, you are interrupting something,” Rebecca replied testily. “Can you guys wait for us downstairs?”
“No, we can’t,” the other man said. “I’m Lieutenant Colonel David Luger, General McLanahan’s deputy. We’d like you all to come with us right away. We’ve already got Captain Dewey with us downstairs.”
“It’s going to have to wait a few minutes,” Rebecca said. “We have something—”
“You don’t understand, Rebecca,” Dave Luger said. “You’re coming with us right now. General McLanahan’s orders.”