"I'd say that's a safe bet."
"After our chat with Lieutenant Hamilton, we need to regroup and take a look at this from all sides."
"You're right," she said. "I think we need to tap into the resources that Hartwell can provide — like getting the straight story from the Pentagon."
"I'll second that."
"Like you mentioned, we're not seeing the big picture."
"Obviously not," he said. "We didn't anticipate being run off the road and having our car riddled by bullets."
"How did they know we would be here?" Jackie paused a moment and thought about the strange happenings in the last couple of days. "Where's the common thread between us and the jokers who tried to run us down?"
"My best guess would be Cliff Earlywine."
There was a moment of silence.
"You're probably right," she said. "Someone is watching him and watching us. Someone who has a vested interest in not having this incident revealed."
"I'd like to add one minor correction," Scott said with a pronounced emphasis. "They may be watching him, but they're trying to kill us."
"You make a good point."
"Actually, I'd bet our boys know you and I solve difficult problems for the U.S. government."
"They're efficient, no doubt about it," she said. "They had us pegged in record time — right on top of us."
"Like I said earlier, they were waiting for us at the airport."
"We have to assume that Earlywine doesn't know he's being tailed."
"We didn't know either," Scott said with an embarrassed look. "And we're supposed to be trained observers."
"Emotionally, our guard was down."
"A major mistake," he admitted.
After checking at the bachelor officers' quarters, Scott and Jackie located Lt. Merrick Hamilton at the almost vacant officers' club bar. Hamilton had a pleasant smile, high cheekbones, and piercing hazel eyes. Dark haired and trim, Ham looked like a typical young fighter pilot, except for one obvious difference: Merrick Hamilton was female.
Sitting at the bar in a stylish dress, the Texas-bred Hamilton was quietly conversing with a male officer in uniform. She glanced at Jackie and Scott as they approached, then turned a wary eye toward them.
"Lieutenant Hamilton?" Scott asked.
"Yes."
"I apologize for interrupting you. My name is Scott Dalton, and this is my colleague, Jackie Sullivan."
Hamilton eyed them suspiciously. "How did you know my name?"
"A friend gave it to us."
"What do you want, Mr. Dalton?"
He gave her a friendly smile. "If you could spare a few minutes to visit with us, we'd sure appreciate it."
"Are you selling something?"
"No, absolutely not," he said with a quiet chuckle. "Please allow us a couple of minutes to explain. It's very important."
When Hamilton hesitated, Jackie smoothly intervened. "Scott and Sammy were friends — they went through flight school together."
Hamilton's eyes reflected her pain. She studied Scott for a moment and then softened her stance. "You're a navy pilot?"
"Both of us are pilots," he said. "We're civilians now, but I flew Harriers in the Marines. Jackie was an air force pilot — F-16s — and she learned to fly helicopters as a civilian."
Merrick nodded in open respect and turned to her companion. "Bob, I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Sure, take your time."
"So, what do you do now, Mr. Dalton?" Merrick asked, walking away from the lifeless bar.
"We're FBI," Scott said in a monotone as he and Jackie flashed their personal identification. "But we aren't here in an official capacity."
Hamilton grew cautious again. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand. Why are you here?"
Scott turned his head away a moment, and then looked Merrick in the eye. "Sammy was my best friend during advanced flight training. Since his accident things have transpired that have been, let's say, intriguing and suspicious. I promised his widow that we would look into it for her."
Merrick took a deep breath and then let it out. "I'm not sure I should be talking with you. I'm not at liberty to say anything about Sammy or the accident — that has been made very clear to me."
Scott nodded. "As I said, we're not here as part of an official investigation team. Anything you discuss with us stays with us. Your name won't be revealed, I give you my word."
Hamilton glanced at Jackie.
"You can trust him."
"Besides," Scott continued, "it may be helpful for you to know what has happened since the accident."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's take a ride and we'll explain."
Once they were in the car and leaving the parking lot, Hamilton unexpectedly opened up. "I feel like I'm being watched — I can't prove it, but I sense it."
"By the navy?" Scott asked.
"I don't know, but I was read the riot act before I left the carrier."
"The riot act?" Jackie asked.
"Yes. I'm not supposed to discuss the accident with anyone. Not even with my immediate family. The admiral made it very clear." Scott glanced at her. "Lieutenant Hamilton, I can assure you—"
"Please call me Merrick."
"Merrick, regardless of what develops, we'll keep your name out of it. I just want to know firsthand what happened."
Jackie turned to her. "Just take your time and tell us what happened that night. Everything you can remember."
Hamilton unfolded the story up to the point of arriving back on the carrier. "When we went to the ready room, it was almost vacant. Our skipper, who was alone, looked very grim. In fact, I'd never seen him look like that — completely down and wouldn't make eye contact."
"What did he say?" Scott asked.
"He asked us if we were okay or something to that effect. He talked to Lou and me for a couple of minutes, then said CAG and the admiral wanted to talk with us."
"That's always good for the blood pressure," Jackie said.
"Lou and I were still in shock when the admiral, CAG, and the skipper of the ship entered the ready room. They asked how we were feeling, then got down to business."
"Down to business?" Scott asked.
"Yes. They were pleasant, but the admiral made it crystal clear that we were not to discuss the accident with anyone, including each other. It came out as an order without the admiral actually having to say it was an order."
"One of those 'Do you understand?' kind of orders," Jackie suggested.
"Exactly."
Scott drove past the National Museum of Naval Aviation. "I'm interested in knowing why the admiral acted the way he did."
"At first I thought it was an overreaction. Many people who have encounters with 'strange things' are labeled crackpots. It can ruin careers, as I'm sure you know."
"A bubble off center," Scott said.
"That's all it takes. In retrospect, I still don't know what precipitated the events that happened next."
"What happened next?" Jackie asked.
"After Lou and I saw the flight surgeon, we had some medicinal brandy and went to our staterooms. About ten minutes later, our squadron skipper called us back to the ready room. That's when Lou and I found out we were being transferred, immediately, to separate commands. No explanation, no questions allowed. Pack your trash and keep your mouth shut."
She leaned back in the seat. "That's all I know. I'm waiting for orders to become a flight instructor at VT-6. Any chance of becoming the first female Blue Angel pilot has gone straight down the toilet."
Scott and Jackie remained quiet, sensing the anxiety and animosity Merrick was experiencing.
"What do you think it was, the object you chased?" Jackie asked.
"I honestly don't know what to think. It happened so quickly — it's like a horrible, chilling nightmare that haunts me day and night. Whatever it was, I can assure you there weren't any humans in it."