Wingman

by Emmy Curtis

  She had to try to persuade them that she was on board. But her military training—and her honor and integrity—were battling against her survival instinct. She just plain didn’t know what to do.

  Her company had sued a former whistle-blower for $50 million and won. The man had been close to destitute as the court only allowed him to keep enough money for rent and little else. No one had raised an eyebrow when he’d killed himself. Except now she’d been given reason to wonder. Malcom, her work buddy at TGO, had suggested to her that TGO had ruined him and then killed him to stop him from talking.

  Could that happen to her?

  The bedside table vibrated, making her jump. She leaned over and opened the drawer, peering in, not daring to touch the phone in case…well, she didn’t really know.

  The number was a Nellis one. She frowned and slid her finger across the screen to pick up the call. “Hello?”

  “Thank God you’re there, baby.”

  She frowned, not being able to place the voice. “Who is this?”

  “Really? We flew together in Afghanistan and you don’t even remember me? I saved your life.” He sounded hurt.

  She grinned. “Animal? Is that you?” Relief threaded through her as she sat back down on the bed. He had saved her life, and the lives of her crew. He’d taken out the nest of a surface-to-air missile that had locked on to her aircraft, and then he’d taken out the missile too. He’d been laughing over the intercom as he had performed a maneuver that had seemed to defy physics as he saved them. An American-educated Korean national, he sometimes sounded more of a Floridian than a native Seoulite.

  “You know it. How’ve you been? I hear you defected to TGO,” he said. His tone was casual, but there was something tense lying under it.

  He stomach clenched again. She took a breath. “I’d never defect.” She left it hanging there.

  He paused. “Then I’m calling in my chips.”

  “Your chips?” As soon as the words were out, she knew what he meant.

  “I saved you, so you can help me save someone else. Hopefully,” he said after a beat.

  “What do you need?” she asked, knowing she was already in the hole. They wanted to go search for the missing pilots.

  “I need you to get us off base. I hear TGO—not the air force—has it on lockdown,” the Animal said.

  “I don’t know how…” Her mind started whirring, and he fell silent to let her think. “How many of you?”

  “Eight, give or take.”

  “Can you tell me what you’re planning?” she asked. And then she remembered about her phone. “Oh, wait. Don’t even tell me. There isn’t enough booze or women on base to satisfy the Animal?”

  “Riiiight?” he said, obviously perplexed.

  “Let me call you back.” She hung up before he could say anything else, and picked up the phone on her bedside table. She redialed the number he had called from. “It’s me.”

  “Okay. Sure you’re not in the CIA instead of TGO?” the Animal said, a touch of humor in his voice.

  She wished.

  “I’m just being careful. As should you. Can you get a minivan from transport and make out like you’re all going to party? I’ll make sure I’m at the back gate. What time?”

  “As soon as possible. It’ll take me about fifteen minutes to get a van. Hold on.”

  She could hear him talking to someone.

  “Yeah. Fifteen minutes. Let’s make it twenty. I need to pick up some supplies.”

  “You’re going into the desert, aren’t you?” she asked. “You’re going to look for the two pilots.”

  “We’re going out looking for our friends.” Animal’s voice was firm and unbendable. “The way we’d go look for you, if you’d crashed out there.”

  “I know,” Casey said simply. She had no doubt about that. And if she were still in the military, she, too, would have busted out of lockdown to search for missing airmen.

  She looked at the clock by the bed. Twenty minutes from now would make it ten after seven. She hoped Cameron would wait for her. “See you there.”

  Grabbing her bag and car keys, she slipped on her sneakers. She was already in the dress she’d planned on wearing on her date. No. Not a date. Nevertheless, she picked up the shoes that she might put on, to make it feel more datelike. She didn’t know. Would strappy sandals make it seem too datey? Would sneakers make her dress look stupid? Urgh. She’ll make up her mind in the car.

  She ran down the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator and was in her car within five minutes. She drove past the officers’ club on the way to the gate, just to see if Cameron was already there. If he’d been waiting for her outside, she’d have stopped to tell him she had an errand to run first.

  She parked her car at the visitor center and walked over to the TGO guys manning the gate. When they saw her coming, they ran to the door of the security hut and held it open for her.

  “Good evening, ma’am. What can I help you with?” the younger of the two men said.

  “My friends want to go out on the town tonight. I told them they could go.” She rolled her eyes as if totally exasperated with them.

  “I’m afraid the base is on lockdown,” the young guy said.

  “It’s okay, Scott. This is a senior VP at headquarters. She speaks for Mr. Danvers.”

  The young man looked confused.

  “Mr. Danvers is the CEO of TGO, Scott,” the older man said, as if he were talking to a kid. He got off his swivel chair and came from around the high desk, shaking his head. “Can’t get the staff these days.”

  She grinned. “We were all new once,” she said.

  The older man shook his head as if in dismay. “He’s not that new,” he said dryly.

  She handed her TGO ID to the younger security guard and signed a piece of paper on the clipboard he handed over. As she did so, she realized her mistake. Her name was documented now. Danvers would know she’d let the airmen out. There was no getting away from it. She saw a minibus from the air force recreation facility headed toward the gate. It wasn’t hard to figure it was them, as they were the only vehicle exiting the base.

  “Here they are,” she said, trying to inject a cheeriness into her voice when all she was feeling was doubt, bordering on fear. “If you could let them out, and then I’ll be following them in my car.” She didn’t know why that had slipped out, but as soon as she said it, she knew she’d feel safer off base.

  She opened the door and breezed out of the security hut. Her car keys in hand, she dashed to her car and pulled in behind the minibus.

  The younger guy opened the electronic security gates. She waved at him to thank him, but he wasn’t looking at her; he was looking at the old security guard who seemed to be shouting at him. With a radio to his ear, the older guy slammed his hand down onto the control board, and the gate started to close on her.

  Adrenaline shot through her. She wasn’t stopping. If he’d called it in, she was in deep trouble. She needed to get out, maybe find a lawyer. Hide. She gunned the car, stomping on the gas.

  A motorcyclist in black came up behind her. Nope. No way she was stopping. She took one last look at the security man, who seemed to be punching all the buttons on the gate mechanism in fury.

  She accelerated through the gate as it was closing, clipping a side mirror off her car. She was free. She took a deep breath. There was no talking her way out of this one. She was on the run now. She just had to keep one step ahead of TGO.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Emmy Curtis is an editor and a romance writer. An ex-pat Brit, she quells her homesickness with Cadbury Flakes and Fray Bentos pies. She’s lived in London, Paris, and New York, and has settled, for the time being, in Germany. When not writing, Emmy loves to travel with her military husband and take long walks with their dogs. All things considered, her life is chock-full of hoot, just a little bit of nanny. And if you get that reference…well, she already considers you kin.

  Learn more at:

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bsp; EmmyCurtis.com

  Facebook.com/EmmyCurtisAuthor

  Twitter @EmmyCurtis19

  Also by Emmy Curtis

  Elite Ops series

  Aces Wild

  Alpha Ops series

  Dangerous Territory (novella)

  Over the Line

  Pushing the Limit

  Blowback

  Compromised

  Risk of Exposure

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