Powerless Against You

by Elizabeth Gannon

  “You know I could fly you down.”

  Damn it all to hell—how did Sullivan always sneak up on her that way? She didn’t turn to look at him, more because she thought it would wrench her neck than to be snotty. “Nope, I’m good.”

  He didn’t leave. “You don’t look good.”

  “Looks can be deceiving.” She attempted to limp a little less but abandoned the charade when he landed next to her. “What?” She tried to give him her best glare, but knew she failed when he shook his head.

  “If you don’t want me to fly you down, I’ll walk you down.”

  “Don’t you have an after-action report to do?”

  “Yeah. It’ll be really long. We came, we kicked their asses, and we all limped home.”

  She realized he seemed to be favoring his left leg; he’d been in the thick of it, too. Probably more than he should have been, even though Felix told her he was a workout and sparring machine. He was definitely stronger and a better fighter than he’d been when he joined up.

  “You’re hurt, Sullivan. Fly down. Walking is stupid.”

  “Oh, please, Marta, tell me you’re listening to your own words?”

  She started walking again, unwilling to let him see that he was right—and worse, she knew it.

  “Okay, then, we’ll hoof it.” He took a deep breath. “You know I didn’t have to join the alliance, right?”

  “You’d have stayed in the Air Force?”

  “Not exactly what I meant, although it was an option—only they got really squirrelly about some tests they wanted to run, and I decided retiring was a better alternative than being some sort of guinea pig for a new kind of warfighter.”

  “Why? Has there been a downside to flying for you?”

  “Other than putting up with you?”

  She laughed—damn it all. Why did she find him funny?

  “No, actually, for me there hasn’t been. But I don’t want this power proliferated willy-nilly. I know you’ve seen my psych profile—I’m a well-adjusted guy. But not everyone is. Power corrupts, and flying is big damn power in my book.”

  “I’ll concede that you’re right.” She could tell he was smiling, said, “Stop that. Random chance dictates you’ll be right occasionally.”

  “I could have been a movie star.” He laughed when she shot him a look. “Seriously. You know I’ve never hidden who I am behind a mask or a name. Never even wore a uniform until I got on your super special team.”

  She glanced at him. He filled out the dark gray uniform really well. Not that she cared other than as the leader, wanting the team to present well.

  Oh, hell, the man had a nice ass. Was it a crime to admit that if only to herself?

  “Why no Hollywood, then? They didn’t offer you enough money?”

  “They offered me tons of money, Marta. But it was… empty. I joined the service because I wanted to make a difference. I joined the alliance for the same reason.”

  “Sure you did. You don’t get off at all on the fanpages or the fawning women. You get to enjoy it all the more since you don’t hide who you are. Out in the open can be brave—or just someone who craves attention.”

  “Lady, I’m sorry I’m not as screwed up as you—that I don’t have some tragic origin story to give me an out for being a dick to everyone.”

  She stopped and forced herself to be calm before she spoke. “You don’t get to speak of my past that way.”

  “No one does. Everybody just tiptoes around it like you’re special. You think I never had to go see a spouse of a fellow pilot—give the news that a husband or wife wouldn’t be coming home because a plane went down. You think you’re the only one who’s ever felt that pain?” He reached out to touch her shoulder, and she stopped him with a look. “The only thing making you special is how you wallow in it. It was ten years ago. Do you think your husband would have wanted this for you? Sure, he’d be proud of what you’ve done, how you’ve brought us all together. But to be this alone—this closed off? I can’t imagine he would have approved.”

  He took off, leaving her alone on the path before she could tell him to go to hell. It seemed to take forever to get down the hill and to the shuttle.

  Everyone was standing around waiting for her. Some of them looked hurt—nothing life threatening but in pain. They all seemed exhausted. And not one of them said a thing as she limped to the door and muttered, “Let’s go.”

  She’d made them all wait because she was too proud—too closed off, Sullivan was right—to accept a ride down. And not one of them but him was going to give her the rash of shit she deserved.

  Maybe she’d gone too far in the scary department.

  She sat in the copilot’s chair, didn’t look around as the rest followed her aboard. They’d think she was her usual, anti-social self. They’d never guess she felt bad—he’d made her feel bad.

  “Here you go, boss.” A tablet was pressed into her hand. Sullivan had compiled everyone’s after-action report into one while they waited for her to get her ass down to the ship.

  She didn’t meet his eyes. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  He left her alone—everyone did—the rest of the flight.

  ***

  Tom saw Marta sitting in one of the window seats looking out on the icy expanse outside HQ. She had her knees pulled up to her chest and seemed very small… and alone.

  He took a deep breath, then walked to her. Walked, not flew, so she’d hear him coming, be able to stop him before he made a total ass of himself.

  She didn’t. She just said, “You wanted me to hear you.”

  “Yep. You must be sick of me getting by your special radar or however you hear all the things you do.” He grinned, but she didn’t look up to see he was gently teasing.

  She also didn’t say to go away, so he settled on the window seat and leaned against the wall, his knees up but not pulled in like hers were. Not so… defensive. “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “I know you’re not a woman of many words on a good day, but is there something I’ve done to make you go unusually taciturn?”

  She laughed softly. Then she finally turned to look at him, a smile approaching sweet on her face. “You’re the only one who makes me laugh.”

  “Felix doesn’t?”

  She shook her head. “He makes me smile, though. I count him as a true friend.”

  “I guess I don’t fall in that category, not after my pissed-off speech on the hillside?”

  She took a deep breath, and he wondered if she was trying to control the urge to clobber him, but when she looked up and met his eyes, hers were calm. “You told me the truth. That makes you something.”

  “Yeah, a pain in your ass.”

  She laughed again; he really liked the sound of her laughter. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive: friend and pain in my ass.”

  “True, I guess.” He sort of enjoyed the idea, because he wasn’t sure he could stop being a pain in the ass—it was sort of a signature style after so many years—but he also wanted to get to know her to find the woman beyond the pain and the creepy mask and controlled voice. “Okay, I’m going to go way out on a limb, but things are quiet, and you look like you could use a diversion. Is there anywhere you’ve always wanted to go but haven’t been? My treat for lunch.”

  Her smile turned into the slightly derisive one. “You’re going to fly us there, I take it?”

  “No, I thought we’d take Greyhound. There a stop around here?”

  Her grin was adorable. “I appreciate the offer, but I have work to do.” She got up in one lithe movement sending his mind down the unfortunate path of wondering just how limber she really was. To get the thought off track, he asked, “If it had been Felix—or someone, anyone else—who invited you, would you have said yes?”

  “No one else would have asked.” She touched his shoulder, her eyes very soft, and then she turned and walked back toward the operations room.

  He touche
d his shoulder, thought about how her backside looked in her skin-tight uniform, and tried his best to wipe the sappy-ass smile off his face.

  ***

  Marta stood with the rest of the alliance, staring down at the device left by the terrorists they’d just rounded up.

  A device that was counting down. That they’d tried their best to disarm and failed.

  “Felix.”

  He moved to stand beside her.

  “Move it to shuttle one.”

  He shared a long look with her, then picked up the device and carried it to the closest of their waiting shuttles.

  She hadn’t expected this bomb to be in the camp, much less armed and ready. She hadn’t been prepared. She’d been thinking about cities she’d never been to, foods she’d like to try. Even if she’d never told Sullivan that.

  She forced Sullivan-induced whimsy from her mind. Thank God this thing was a conventional bomb. “All right, guys. There may be wreckage falling down. You know what to do. Felix, you’re in charge until a formal vote can be held.” She hurried onto the shuttle and hit the panel to close the door, but heard Sullivan yell, “Felix, you’ll do great—and you’re an awesome friend in case we don’t get back,” and then he dove through the slowly closing doors.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.” He got up, hurried to the pilot’s seat, and strapped in. “How much time do we have?”

  She checked the device’s timer. “Five minutes.”

  “Then sit down and let me do my thing.”

  “I can fly this.”

  He didn’t look at her, was madly turning all the right levers and buttons to get the shuttle up as quickly as possible, higher and higher, to where they stood the best chance of not having the blast’s shockwaves impact the surface. The other members would use their various skills to keep the pieces of the shuttle from harming people or property.

  “You’re crazy,” she said, not looking at Sullivan.

  “And you’re an idiot for not asking for help. Are you suicidal?”

  “We’re going to die. The autopilot on this thing is iffy. We have to stay with the shuttle until the device goes.”

  “Yes, you’d die if you were alone. But you’ve got me. And we’re going to see just how fast I can take off and skedaddle with oh, say, two seconds to spare.” He shot her a grin that was both excited and a little bit terrified. Mostly the former, though.

  Damn it all, why was he so cute? And why was she thinking about his grin when they had a job—maybe their last one—to complete? Maybe their last one, but maybe not. She realized she really wanted it to not be their last one.

  For the first time in a long time, she cared if she lived or died.

  “And for the record, Marta, since we’re not going to die, we are going on our date.”

  “Date? It was lunch. On you.”

  “Well, now it’s dinner. On me. In my world, that’s a date.”

  “Your world is a place of delusions.” She got up and checked the device. “Three minutes.”

  “We’re fine. How long will the shuttle door take to open?”

  “Fifteen seconds at least.”

  “Okay, going to depressurize now. Get an oxygen mask on. And can you fasten the device down? Don’t want it falling out the door if the shuttle hits some turbulence.”

  She slipped an oxygen mask on, then pulled out the cargo hooks from the floor and wound them around the thing until she was sure it wasn’t going to fall out. “Got it.”

  “Did you pick a city?” His voice sounded funny coming through the mask speakers.

  “Seriously? We’re busy here.”

  “Not at the moment. You’re practicing your bondage skills, and I’m flying this pretty little ship. Been a while. Have wanted to fly it since I got here.” He patted the panel. “Sorry, honey. Too bad our first time is your last time.”

  She found the tenderness he was showing the shuttle unaccountably charming.

  “So? What city, Marta?”

  “Prague. It’s home.” Why did she tell him it was home? And when did she pick Prague? She’d been going back and forth between Bangkok and Paris in her silly fantasies where she actually said yes to him.

  “Love it. It’s a date, then. You’ll steer me on the Czech menu, yes?” He started to laugh. “Like you need any encouragement to tell me what to do?”

  “Like you ever do what I say, Tom.”

  “Whoa, first name. You really do think we’re going to die, don’t you?” He set some switches, getting the autopilot ready to take it the few seconds they’d need. “Time?”

  “Forty-five seconds.” She could feel the temperature dropping as the plane depressurized. It became harder to breathe, to push the air in and out.

  “Open the door, Marta. But put a harness on first, yeah? Hate to lose you before our date.”

  She rolled her eyes—lost on him, but it made her feel better—and wrapped the harness around her before hitting the exit panel. The normal warning alarm sounded, then the doors began to open. “Thirty seconds,” she yelled as the temperature dropped some more.

  She unhooked the harness and watched the timer. “Twenty-five.”

  He was setting more switches, keying in commands, and she admired the way he didn’t miss a beat, the calmness that seemed to radiate from him as he did what she realized he was very, very good at.

  The alliance was lucky to have him.

  She was lucky to have him. “Twenty.”

  He kept the plane ascending, and she trusted him to know how far was too far for them to survive. Trust: what an unusual concept. She was so used to relying on herself to make the plans—or at least double-check them if they weren’t hers.

  “Setting auto pilot now. Will monitor for next ten seconds, then join you.”

  “Roger that, Eagle One.”

  She heard his laugh over the speakers. “Holy cow, Marta—you have a sense of humor.”

  “Yeah, yeah, don’t spread it around.”

  He laughed again. “Guess you believe we’re going to get out of here.”

  “Guess I do. Gonna be awfully pissed off if you’re not up to the task, flyboy.”

  “When aren’t you pissed?” His voice was gentle, not mocking.

  “Right now I’m not. About to die with a crazy man at the controls, and I’m… happy, I guess.”

  “Happy is good, darlin’. Autopilot holding steady, by the way.” He unstrapped his harness and joined her, and when the timer hit five seconds he said, “Show me what you’ve got, baby,” with a chuckle as he hoisted her.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his midsection and buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m going to write you up for creating a hostile work environment.”

  He rolled his eyes. “And we’re out of here.” There was a jolting feeling of being launched from the shuttle and then a moment of peace, followed by the sound of the shuttle blowing up. Sullivan had turned so he had his back to the ship, was bent in an awkward way, and she realized it was so she wasn’t in the path of any debris. He groaned but kept flying.

  “Are you hit?”

  He didn’t answer, and she tried to reach around.

  “Yes, I’m hit. No, it’s not a problem. You falling because you suddenly can’t keep your hands to yourself will be a huge problem, however. Knock it off.”

  “Fine. But I’m checking it out as soon as we land.”

  He turned them, and they watched as pieces of the shuttle hurtled toward the ground, all but one caught by alliance members. The one they didn’t landed in a lake, not on anything important. She smiled. They could do this without her. That was a comforting thought.

  “I’ve gotta get down, Marta. I may have lied about how badly I’m hit.”

  “You idiot.” She pointed to the ground. “Terra firma. Now.”

  “Yes, boss.” He flew really fast.

  It was more fun than a roller coaster. As he slowed, she whispered, “Thank you.”r />
  “No thanks necessary, ma’am.” She could hear the silly grin she liked so much by the way his voice sounded. “Just doing my job.”

  “You watched way too much TV as a kid.”

  “You are not wrong.”

  They landed, and he sagged and nearly dropped her. She pulled free of his arms and managed to catch and ease him down so she could see his back.

  It was peppered all over with little bits of metal. “Tom, this must hurt like hell.”

  “I won’t lie. A big dose of painkillers before you pull anything out of me would not be refused.”

  She nodded to Felix, and he picked Tom up in a fireman’s carry. Undignified as hell, but would cause the least pain to his back. As she followed them to one of the shuttles, she reached out and touched Tom’s hair.

  It was soft. Curly hair so often wasn’t. Peter’s had been straight and dark, not the sun-streaked blonde that Tom had.

  “You did not just stroke my hair.” Sullivan’s voice bounced as he was carried.

  “You’re right. That wasn’t me.”

  “Liar. It felt good, by the way.” He seemed to give up talking, just rode out the ride with as much dignity as it was possible for a hero to have when he was riding ass up on a brute.

  “Told you she liked you,” she heard Felix say.

  She smiled but resisted comment.

  “Yeah, we’ve got a date and everything. You were right, buddy.”

  Felix glanced back at her. “He telling the truth or just delirious from pain?”

  She tried to give Felix the Marta stare of doom. She could tell by his silly grin that she failed miserably. “Yes. Prague. Dinner. On him.”

  Felix gave her the sweetest smile imaginable, then he seemed to pick up the pace. “Better get him fixed up right for you. No time to waste.”

  Tom groaned with the extra jostling from Felix’s near quick-march. “Dude, we’re not going tonight.”

  Felix looked back at her, seemingly for confirmation.

  She felt like she was working through a yenta or something. “Felix, slow down. I’d prefer him alive when I subject myself to his company.”