Kerry tilted her head back and smiled. “Oh yeah.” She sighed. “If you’ll remember, I sent you an e-mail at one AM. I hate to tell you, because I know you’ll laugh, but I slept in your sweatshirt that night,”
she admitted.
Dar did, in fact, laugh. “Did you?”
“Yeah. I really liked the way it smelled.” Kerry leaned over and sniffed Dar’s shoulder, emitting a low hum of approval. “I’m not sure I remember what BS I fed myself to explain that.” She paused. “Actually, I don’t think I even bothered trying.”
“I woke up the next morning, hired you, then conked out with the laptop sitting on my chest,” Dar recalled. “I got your mail asking about the clothing and answered it before I was actually awake.”
“Ah. That explains the shopping,” Kerry teased. “You have no idea how nervous I was waiting for you in the mall.”
“I was pretty rattled, too,” her lover murmured, steering carefully around a large puddle. “I’m not exactly a social butterfly.”
Kerry nodded. “I know. You were fidgeting during dinner.” She remembered watching Dar’s long fingers play restlessly with the table tents. “But I felt really comfortable being with you,” she added.
“Especially after you shared your dessert with me.”
Dar laughed. “Oh, so that was the big icebreaker, huh? I should have known.”
Kerry shook a finger at her. “Now that I know you the way I do, I know you sharing a plate with someone is a big deal, Dar, not to mention you actually gave me a bite of your dinner.”
“Mm.” Dar’s face took on a curious expression. “I should have realized right then.” She slowed the car. “Okay, hang on. Here we go.”
Kerry closed her laptop and tucked it into her briefcase as they 66 Melissa Good turned into the base, the road blocked by gates and an impressive set of armed guards. “Dar, that man has no neck.”
“Don’t start me on inter-service jokes, okay?” Dar muttered as she pulled the Lexus forward. “Damn place hasn’t changed much.” She waited for the car ahead of her to be admitted, then drove on.
“I don’t think the military is known for being avant-garde, hon.”
Kerry watched with interest as Dar rolled down the window and slipped on her attitude like a pair of sunglasses.
“I have an appointment with Commander Albert,” Dar stated in a crisp, no-nonsense tone as she handed over her identification badge.
The guard studied the badge, then studied Dar as though comparing the picture. Then he consulted a plastic-covered clipboard.
His eyes lifted, and he peered into the Lexus. “Commander Albert is expecting one person, ma’am.”
“Lucky him, he gets two,” Dar replied. “This is my associate, Kerrison Stuart.” She offered him Kerry’s badge, which the blonde woman had helpfully passed over.
“I don’t have clearance for her, ma’am,” the guard said.
By sheer will, Dar kept herself from smirking. “Then I guess we’ll be blocking your gate until you get it or turning around and going back to Miami and billing you for our time,” she said. “What’s your name again? Williams, is it?”
“Ma’am, this is a secure base, and we don’t give people clearance just because they show up at the gate,” the guard replied stiffly. “I think you need to understand.”
“Son,” Dar leaned on the doorframe, “I used to eat breakfast every day with someone a lot scarier than you, so put your attitude up in your side pocket and either let me in or tell me you won’t, and I’ll do what I need to do.”
The man stared at her for a moment, then retreated into his hut. Dar leaned back and crossed her arms, shaking her head slightly. “Some things just really never change,” she sighed.
“I don’t think I can quite picture you doing this, Dar,” Kerry observed. “Though you’d look really cute in those uniforms.” She fell silent as the guard returned, a look on his face that made her think he’d been sucking key limes in the interim.
“These are your passes, ma’am.” He handed their identification cards back to Dar, along with two clip-on badges. “Wear them at all times when you’re on the base.”
“All right.” Dar took one, and gave Kerry hers. “Thanks.”
“Commander Albert is in the Huntingdon building. Drive straight through the gates here, turn left, turn right, turn left, second stop on the right.” He opened the gate, and ducked his head in a semirespectful salute.
Dar finished putting her badge on. “That’s the long way,” she gave him a grim smile, “but thanks.”
Red Sky At Morning 67
Kerry waved at the guard. “Dosvidanya,” she told him cheerfully as Dar drove past. Then she settled back into her seat and looked around curiously as they made their way along a rather weather-beaten road. It was so different than she’d expected, Kerry mused, taking in the long rows of sturdy, plain concrete buildings. Everything was neatly kept, and there were columns of men and women doing various military type things—like running and chanting, drilling in a nearby field—and some were just walking about.
To one side, through a stretch of tall trees, she spotted a large cluster of small houses. She glanced at Dar and saw her lover’s eyes on them as well, a curious mix of regret and nostalgia on her face. “Was that home?”
“Yeah.” Dar gave her head a little shake and returned her attention to the road. “Wasn’t much. I think my room was the size of the back of this car.” She fell silent for a beat. “I spent my first...five, six years here, I guess; then we moved up to Virginia. Year or two after that to North Carolina, two years later to Baton Rouge, then we came back here for a while.”
“Sort of tough on you, moving to different schools all the time, hmm?” Kerry half turned in her seat, watching Dar’s profile. “Making new friends and all.”
Dar laughed shortly. “That was the least of my worries.” She turned down a side street. “I never bothered much with friends.” She parked the Lexus and turned her head. “You ready for this?”
“Me?” Kerry allowed an easy laugh to escape. “Dar, you forget how I grew up. It would take more than a bunch of hunky sailors and Marines to spook me.” She put a hand on Dar’s arm. “Thanks for asking me to come along, though. I’m glad I’m here.”
Dar smiled. “Me, too.” She gathered up her briefcase and opened the door. “C’mon. Let’s go see what trouble we can get into.”
Kerry followed her as they walked along the sidewalk and turned in to go up a short flight of steps to a guarded doorway. She tried again to imagine Dar as one of these stern, earnest, professional warriors.
Ow. It made her brain hurt. She gave the guard a smile and passed through the portal to another world.
DAR’S NOSE TWITCHED as she walked along the hallway, memories gently buffeting her from all sides. The air was thick with familiar scents: wool and brass and wood polish, and floor wax she knew came in gray five-gallon cans. The merest hint of gun oil trickled through, tickling her senses and bringing a faint smile to her face.
It was quiet as they passed closed doorways, the faint clatter of honest-to-goodness typewriters leaking through but not much more.
Kerry gave her a look. “Multipart forms,” Dar murmured. “Eight layers at least, sometimes ten.”
68 Melissa Good
“Ew.” Kerry winced. “They ever consider donating part of the government’s operating budget to saving the rainforests?”
“Mm.” Dar led the way up a flight of double stairs that swept up to a landing, with a door guarded by an armed Marine. “I tried to convince them to go thermal, but they held onto those Selectrics like they were worth actual money and wouldn’t give them up.” She gave the Marine a brisk nod and turned past him into a smaller, closer hallway with doors on either side.