Don’t wake sleepwalkers.
Even though the advice spinning through his head didn’t truly apply he went with it anyway, buckling her in gently and pausing to brush his fingers across her cheek, looking with concern into the liquid depths of her eyes. “It’ll be all right,” he murmured before sitting heavily in his own seat. She shifted almost immediately, coming to rest her head on his shoulder. It was nice. He rather liked it there.
Reaching up to stroke her hair almost absently, Luke turned to William as he buckled his own seatbelt. “We need to talk.”
“What?”
“What?” Luke just barely resisted the urge to slap the phone out of his father’s hands just to make him look up at him. “We are in Air Force One! What the hell do you mean sitting there and saying ‘what’?”
William raised his head, a look of impatience crossing his face. “I told you, it’s not Air Force...”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard that. You know that’s a crock. This is the plane that the president of the United States flies in! This is most recognizable plane in the world!” There was a pause as William and Luke stared at each other. “WHY THE HELL DO YOU HAVE IT?”
“I told her father,” William said, pointing to Dani who seemed to be coming out of her stupor. She had sat up and was peering out the window with an alertness that meant no more romantic cuddling for a while.
Mores the pity.
“I told him that this goes way beyond senators and ministers and the like. This goes beyond one country. This stick has the collected works of her parents, and they brought a lot to light. It isn’t just me who wants the stick, my boy.” William’s jovial mood was gone. His stare was intense, his voice almost emotionless. “There are lives that depend on this, countries could collapse from the evidence on there. The president is concerned. The prime ministers of England and Japan have expressed concern.”
Dani turned, frowning. Definitely back, now that she was needed. Luke felt a rush of pride as he watched her drill his father with a gaze that would make a lesser man cringe.
To his father’s credit, he had no reaction at all.
“How could he... they...” Dani fought for the right phrases. “How did they gather such material?”
William sighed and looked away. He might have been expecting the question, but he certainly didn’t want to answer it. “Your mother was originally assigned to infiltrate organized crime...”
“Assigned?” Dani cried. “By whom?”
“I don’t actually know. We think it was the British. We’re not sure. At any rate, she was assigned to the task of infiltration. Your father inherited a struggling company, and there were forces moving in to... help him. It was thought that if she could get on his payroll, assistant, maybe something... more...” William let the implication hang in the air.
The DING of the seatbelt light chimed, and the pilot’s voice came over the speaker. “We’ve been cleared for immediate takeoff. We should be landing at our destination in just under two hours, so relax and enjoy the flight.”
The plane seemed to collapse in on itself as it gathered the weight that typified the takeoff of a heavy plane. It roared down the runway, flashing concrete and steel as the images of Florida sped past the windows, and launched itself into the air.
Conversation was muted as the powerful engines whined and screamed, and the plane, despite all rationality and common sense, lifted from the ground powered by brute force. Luke’s ears suffered as they always did, but not enough to derail him, and not enough to allow for half a story to be told.
They bounced hard, as though they’d struck something. Indeed, striking a pocket of turbulence was still hitting something, despite the transitory nature of the air. The engines settled into a determined rage and the plane leveled, having proved itself and now reveling in its accomplishment.
“Go on,” Luke said when things had quieted, and the stewardess had come around with offers of drinks, which William waved away.
William shrugged. “She fell in love. It happens sometimes.” He looked pointedly at Luke. “She kept working, spread wide a network of informants, the most comprehensive web of information we’ve ever had.”
“We?” Dani frowned. “I thought you didn’t know who assigned her.”
“We.” William shook his head, and scowled. “And I don’t. Maybe it would help now if I did. She had to have been reporting back; there might have been other copies... But there are several agencies on this now. All over the world. When your mother went underground, her death was faked. From what we’ve been able to piece together, she kept up her network, though.”
“So, if this thing has generated interest from all over the world,” Luke said, shaking his head, “how many of those agencies are on our side?” He had a sudden image of a deluge of spies that he couldn’t quite shake. None of this was sounding good right now.
“Most,” William said, though he seemed uncertain. “The hard part is knowing which ones are which.” He sat back and unfastened his seatbelt. “I’m going to go find that stewardess and see about changing my mind on that drink. You might want to clean up. I arranged to have some clothing for you, and there’s a full shower on board.” He pointed to a door behind them. “I also arranged for you, my future daughter, a fresh set of clothing as well. You have two hours, so you might want to get to it.”
Dani and Luke looked at each other.
“Air Force One for five bucks?” she asked, looking cheerful for the first time that morning.
“Hell, I’d pay ten.”
They snapped their buckles free and half ran to the door he’d indicated.
Chapter Nine
Of course, nothing ever works out like it does in the movies.
Dani and Luke collided in the doorway in their haste, and it took a few moments to untangle limbs before bursting through awkwardly into what turned out to be a broom closet with a bed. Dani banged her shins on the edge of the bed, while Luke tumbled fast, hitting the floor hard, face first. She winced in sympathy, straightening with a certain amount of caution, as the plane still hadn’t exactly smoothed out and, apparently, they’d both forgotten how to walk.
So maybe it wasn’t the bedroom portrayed in the movies. No giant bed with oval sheets and presidential seal comforters. That was probably elsewhere, in the part of the plane clearly off limits. Apparently, William’s influence didn’t extend to the really good stuff. This was something about the size of a twin bed, little more than a cot. Something used for quick naps by people less important who couldn’t hold their liquor, or asked the wrong questions at a press junket.