At His Command

by Karen Anders

  His loss was now totally complete. Unequivocally permanent.

  And he had to wonder. He didn’t want to complete the thought, but he wasn’t easy, even on himself. Did she blame him for her parents’ deaths as well as her brother’s? The thought gnawed at him in a place that, even after six years, was still raw. And he had to assume some of the blame. He was indirectly responsible for their deaths. It was his error that killed Rafe.

  Being with her again had brought it all back. He didn’t have to hear her tell him she couldn’t forgive him when forgiveness was what he wanted and needed. He knew she couldn’t and that reality shattered his foundations even more.

  Like a thirsty man so close to water he could smell it, but wasn’t allowed to drink.

  He would have been kidding himself if he’d thought there had been any way back into their good graces. The Sotos had cut him out of their lives as ruthlessly as his own father had, but for a short time, he’d had it all. The love of his life, a family who loved him like he was their own and a best friend who had brought all his dreams and hopes together in one neat package.

  It had been fleeting, but it had been real, for as long as it had lasted.

  Unable to fall asleep, he donned his running gear and slipped out of the ship to the flight deck. It was quiet this morning and almost completely devoid of people.

  There was a lone runner and he swore softly. He’d told her it wasn’t safe for her to be on her own, but independent Sia didn’t think anything of running early in the morning without an escort and he was the last person she wanted to see.

  It took him a few lengthy strides to catch up with her. They ran side by side in silence until the sun came up over the horizon.

  “I’m sorry about your parents,” he said softly, not looking at her. He kept his gaze straight ahead on the pink horizon.

  Sia slowed to a walk, not looking at him at first, as if she was processing all that had happened. He reached out and touched her arm, so she looked over at him.

  She held his gaze for a fraction of a second longer, and then dipped her chin, before coming to a complete stop. “I’m sorry, too. I miss them.”

  “I miss them, too,” he said simply and it seemed to be enough. She nodded and squeezed his arm.

  “Since I couldn’t sleep, I’ve been thinking about Lieutenant Cotes. She had motivation and means, but did she have the opportunity?” Sia lunged into a calf stretch on first one leg, then the other.

  Before Chris could respond, a female voice interrupted.

  “Excuse me, sir.”

  Chris turned to find a tall blond woman approaching them. She was dressed in red, marking her as one of the flight crew. As she got closer, he realized she wasn’t as young as he’d first thought. She had a long scar from her temple down to her chin. It was an old scar that had faded with age. Something about the scar stirred a memory, but one that eluded him.

  “Special Agent Vargas,” she shielded her eyes from the rising sun.

  “Yes, and this is Lieutenant Commander Soto.”

  “Ma’am.” The woman nodded her hello. “I was directed to you by the XO. I was meeting with him on the bridge when we saw you running on the flight deck.”

  “You are?” Sia asked.

  “Lieutenant Maria Jackson. I’m one of the landing signal officers and I was on the flight deck when Lieutenant Washington lost control of his jet and skidded. In fact, I was the one handling the meatball and directing him in.”

  “We talked with several crew members and watched footage of the crash. If we come up with more questions, we’ll be sure to talk to you.” Chris didn’t see any need to rehash what had happened on deck. They had the footage and had interviewed both Washington’s wingman and the air boss.

  The woman’s gaze narrowed. When he tried to go around her, she moved to block his path. Something flashed in her eyes, something menacing and chilling, but it was quickly gone and Chris had to question whether he’d seen anything at all or if it was a trick of the light.

  “Actually,” she said impatiently, “I’m not here about what happened on deck that night. I’m here about what happened before Lieutenant Washington crashed.”

  “What is that?” Sia asked. Standing beside the tall woman, Sia seemed even more fragile.

  Maria looked pensive for a moment. “I didn’t really think anything about it until today when the XO mentioned you were investigating Susan and if I had any information regarding her and Lieutenant Washington, I should report to you.”

  “And what do you have to say about Lieutenant Cotes?” Chris prompted.

  “She likes to play games with men,” she said derisively, not looking away. “I’ve seen it in the past. With Lieutenant Washington, it was just more of the same. The argument started in the wardroom. When he walked away, she followed him. She continued the dispute with him right near his fighter. She had a piece of paper in her hand and she was waving it around. He was shaking his head and I could tell he was angry.”

  “Do you know what they were arguing about?” Sia asked.

  “Not completely.” The woman lowered her voice. “But she made a threat.”

  Chris regarded her for a moment, and then said, “What kind of threat?”

  Her tone ominous, she replied, “That he would regret it if he didn’t stop harassing her. She would put a stop to it. I just assumed she would go to the captain, but I’m not sure now what she really meant.”

  “Now?” Sia asked.

  Maria shrugged. “Well, now that he’s dead.”

  “She was near his plane, you said.” Looked like they had more to interrogate Susan Cotes about than just the notes and her knowledge of radar. The evidence was mounting.

  “That’s right. And he stalked away when she made her threat.”

  “What did she do?”

  Maria looked uncomfortable, but resigned to the onerous task of informing on a friend. “She ducked under the plane and I lost track of her. I had to prepare the deck for a landing, so I got busy. It was only after the crash and the XO’s information that I thought of it.”

  “Would she have had access to his radar equipment from underneath the plane?” Sia asked.

  “Sure, she could have. I didn’t see her, but it’s possible.”

  “Thank you for your time, Lieutenant Jackson,” Sia said.

  She nodded and walked away.

  “Looks like she had opportunity, too,” Chris said.

  “Looks like it. Let’s get her back into interrogation.”

  Chris nodded. “Let’s get cleaned—”

  The sound of a shot echoed across the deck. Chris pushed Sia toward the cover of two jets and several more shots rang out. One plinked into the nearest jet, much too close to Sia’s head. Chris pushed her down and covered her. She started to protest, but he shushed her. He heard the sound of running feet and the clank of a metal door somewhere above them. Then silence.

  He lifted himself off her and looked down into her face. She was flushed with fear, her pupils dilated. He cursed that he hadn’t been carrying his sidearm on the deck. He’d left it in his locker. From now on he was going to carry it. He saw the captain approaching with angry strides.

  “Are you all right?” he said, checking her over himself.

  “Yes. I’m fine. Who is shooting at us on an aircraft carrier?”

  “That’s what I would like to know.” The captain’s voice was filled with anger.

  A half an hour later in the captain’s conference room, Sia and Chris sat at a long brown table.

  “All the sidearms that were signed out of the armory are accounted for. None of them have been fired.”

  “Someone could have smuggled one aboard. I sent the bullets we pried out of the fuselage of the two jets to my forensics specialist at Hickam. Once we find the weapon, he can match the ballistics.”

  “The only other sidearm that is aboard this ship,” Sia said, “is yours.”

  “Mine is locked up in my stateroom inside my locker.”


  “It wouldn’t hurt to check it, Vargas,” the captain said. “We will be getting underway today. Heading back to San Diego for a few more extensive repairs to the carrier. I want whoever is responsible for what’s going on caught before we dock. Is that clear?”

  The captain pulled open the door and signaled a master-at-arms, the Navy’s version of the MP. “I want you to secure Lieutenant Cotes in Legal until Special Agent Vargas and Commander Soto arrive. Then I want you to wait outside for further instructions.”

  The steely-eyed man nodded and left.

  “Why don’t you two get cleaned up and conduct a thorough interrogation of Lieutenant Cotes and check your weapon, Vargas. Report back to me with your findings. You’re both dismissed. I have a call to make to Senator Washington. Get me some answers and the perpetrator.”

  When Sia started to walk back to her cabin, Chris followed.

  “Where are you going?”

  “With you.”

  “Why?”

  “Someone shot at us. You were pushed down the ladder. Not leaving you alone.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  She walked down the gangway and navigated the ladders, favoring her recently injured arm, but Chris could see the way her hand trembled on the rail. When they got to her cabin, she reached for the handle and turned it. He touched her arm and she stilled.

  Some color was returning to her cheeks. But he remembered how she had looked after the gunshots. She’d been pasty-white and, despite her surprising mettle during the incident, looked like a feather could knock her over.

  “I’m fine,” she said, her voice catching as he caressed her arm.

  “That’s good bravado, Commander, but I’m not buying it.” He turned her around and cupped her face. Her skin was smooth, soft and warm against his palms. The feel of her calmed something a bit wild inside him.

  “Buying what?”

  He tilted his head and stared at her. “I’ve been shot at before. I can lay a bet you never have.”

  “No. I won’t take that wager and it doesn’t mean I’m going to back down, either.”

  “I wouldn’t bet against that.”

  “Good, because you’d lose.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice a shade rougher now. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. With his face close to hers, their gazes locked.

  “I’m a JAG officer. I’m expected to take care of myself, but this time, I’ll take you up on that. You’re the one with the gun.”

  He pulled her into his arms, tucked her against his chest. “And I know how to use it.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. You have many skills.”

  He leaned back enough so he could look into her face. “Oh, do I?”

  She smiled. The beauty of it caught him off guard. It was the first genuine smile he’d seen on her since he met her at JAG. He liked the softness of it, the vulnerability. It made his heart ache. It gave him hope where there was none, a hope he wasn’t sure he could handle.

  It was natural for his head to drop, his mouth to home in on hers. It felt right and good when his lips covered her soft smiling ones. And when she softened rather than stiffened beneath his hands and mouth, he gave up any pretense of trying to control himself where she was concerned.

  The past and the present were so tangled up in his head and in his heart, he didn’t even try to convince himself he knew the difference anymore. He wanted to think he was well past that part of his life. Clearly, he was not, when it came to the one woman he’d never been able to forget.

  “If we didn’t have work to do…”

  She sighed. “Duty calls. It always does and in this case, we have to answer. It’s too important not to.”

  He nodded. When she opened the door, he crowded in after her.

  “What are you doing?” She put her hand on his chest to stop him.

  “I said I wasn’t leaving you.” He pushed forward, liking the way her hand felt against him.

  “Chris, I’ll lock the door,” she said, and couldn’t help the small smile that lessened her outraged tone.

  He smiled back. “That’s a good idea, but I’m going to be on this side of it.”

  “Oh, for the…all right,” she said, giving in after taking a look at his face. “But you stay on the other side of the head door.”

  “I will.”

  Inside, Sia grabbed her uniform and disappeared into the head. He heard the shower come on as he imagined her getting in under the spray. All that glorious skin wet and gleaming. When the water went off, he shifted and sighed in relief.

  “Oh, shoot,” he heard her say in distress.

  “You okay?”

  “I…ah…forgot my underwear. Could you…” She trailed off.

  Chris chuckled.

  “It’s not funny!”

  “Oh, it’s providing me with great amusement.”

  “I was in too much of a hurry to get away from you.”

  “Right.” He went to her locker and opened it. “Does it matter…”

  “No! Just grab a pair, for God’s sake.”

  He picked out one from all the lacy numbers in her locker and hooked it to his forefinger. He knocked on the door.

  She opened it, a towel wrapped around her, her shoulders looking damp and inviting. Her face was mortified when she saw the panties dangling from his finger. She snatched them away and slammed the door.

  He chuckled again.

  “You’d think an NCIS agent would have better manners,” she shouted through the door.

  He laughed. “We’re a coarse bunch of SOBs. Most of us come from a law enforcement background, the rest from the military.”

  “I have to say I was surprised you went into the agency. I thought you’d still be flying.” Her voice was subdued now, but filled with curiosity.

  “I resigned my commission shortly after you left for New York. I tried to kill myself with alcohol for the first month. I’d probably still be there or in the ground.”

  “What happened?” He didn’t miss the anguish in her voice and it made his gut clench at the memories of the worst time in his life.

  “A buddy called and he hauled me out of my apartment and read me the riot act.”

  “Sounds like a good friend.”

  “He is. He worked for NCIS and encouraged me to apply. I thought it sounded like I could make a difference.”

  She opened the door. “And have you?”

  She looked scrubbed and fresh, her hair pulled back and securely fastened.

  “I think so. The work is rewarding, but tough. I used the long hours like I did alcohol. It dulled the pain and after a while it got better.”

  She put her hand on his chest, her eyes clear and looking deep into his. “That’s good, Chris.”

  Her sympathy made him want to draw her close, but he was aware of the time and their responsibilities. It was the only thing that stopped him.

  “Time for my shower,” he said, meeting her gaze head-on.

  She grabbed her hat and nodded she was ready to go.

  Back in his own stateroom, he opened his locker and pulled out his weapon. Sia looked over his shoulder.

  “Your gun is here.”

  It looked the same as when he’d left it. He nodded. He caught a whiff of cleaning oil and noticed his kit was just below the weapon. Reaching down, he opened it. Nothing inside was disturbed. He called the captain and gave him that information while Sia took a seat on his bunk.

  While he was in the shower, he mentally went over what they knew. Two aviators were dead. It seemed both of them had had radar issues and both of them had been incoherent at the end. They had a dead master chief who’d tried to murder Sia. Two planes were being thoroughly investigated. Last but not least, an LSO who had seen the suspect under one of the jets.

  They needed more answers. When he emerged from the head, they headed to the legal office.

  “Your weapon is still in your locker?” Sia asked, her gaze fl
owing over him like a warm caress.

  He was sure it was involuntary, but that thought did nothing to lessen the impact of her eyes on him. “Right now, I have it against the small of my back. I’m not taking any more chances.”

  She looked pensive. “So someone must have smuggled the weapon aboard.”

  He reached up and rubbed her shoulder to tell her he would stick by her. “Looks like it.”

  Two masters-at-arms were standing on either side of the door as Sia and Chris approached. The guards nodded as Chris opened the door and indicated for Sia to enter.

  Lieutenant Cotes was sitting at the small interrogation table. Her hands were nervously intertwining, but ceased when they entered.

  Sia sat and Chris nestled in next to her. Sia pulled Lieutenant Cotes’s file out of her briefcase.

  “We have received information you and Lieutenant Washington had an argument on the flight deck the night before he flew his mission,” Sia said.

  Chris was beginning to think Sia would make an excellent cop. Her interrogation skills were very good. She didn’t elaborate or expound on what she was saying. She just gave her suspect a little rope.

  Susan shifted and looked away, her lips tightening. “It’s true. We had an argument, but I only wanted to talk to him and tell him I was going to the captain because his notes hadn’t stopped.”

  “What was his response?” Sia said, her eyes sharp.

  “He got really angry and accused me of playing games and said I didn’t need to bother because he was going to talk to the captain.” She dropped her head in her hands. “This is a nightmare. Nothing good comes from even speaking to a pilot.”

  “Were you?”

  “Was I what?” Susan asked, her head coming up, her eyes moist.

  “Were you playing games?” Sia elaborated, her voice even.

  “No!” Susan snapped.

  Sia arched a brow and studied her so hard that Susan dropped her hands to her lap and glanced away. Without a word, she pulled out the notes she had found in Washington’s bunk and laid them out on the table one by one.

  Susan’s eyes swung suspiciously toward the pieces of paper, and then her face went white as she studied the notes. Color flushed back into her cheeks as her shocked and angry eyes met Sia’s. “I didn’t write these. I don’t know what kind of game Lieutenant Washington was playing, but I wasn’t a part of it.”