Inside the hangar, the air ran cooler—metal holding the day and letting it go slowly.The jet sat under sodium light just waiting for all that power to be released, and he was just the man to do it.Hogan keyed in, let the strip lights spool up, and ran a preflight by touch.Skin to seam, eyes to rivet, palm to strut.Smell of fuel and oil made the noise in his head step back another inch.
He’d filed the plan before he’d started the drive to the hanger, thumbs quick on the screen.He wanted nothing to slow him down.Hilo, night hop, solo.No passengers listed.Direct routing.He was halfway around the nose when the small personnel door at the back of the hanger opened and let in a rectangle of cooler night.
Dev.
He didn’t raise his voice.He never had to.“Your flight plan landed on my phone for approval,” he said, crossing the concrete like a man who already knew the answers and hated that knowledge anyway.“Hawaii.”
Hogan kept his hand on the skin of the plane.“Hilo to be exact.”
“You don’t have approval.”
“I can ask for it while I’m climbing.”Hogan turned.“Or you can give it to me now.”
Dev stopped with his boots just inside the wash of the light.He looked at Hogan, then at the jet, then back at Hogan.He had that stillness that made people tell the truth.
“What’s in Hawaii,” he asked, “that can’t wait until morning and can’t take a second body?”
Hogan thought about lying and knew firsthand that the big bastard in front of him had some kind of sixth sense when it came to bullshit.“I don’t know yet.”He met Dev’s eyes and kept it there.“But I know I have to be there, and I have to go alone.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have for you.”Hogan didn’t step closer.
Dev’s mouth flattened.“I know about the headaches.”Of course he did.“You think Blake would clear you to fly?”
“I’m not broken.”Hogan snapped.
“Maybe not,” Dev said.“Maybe just bent where it matters.”He looked past Hogan to the cockpit and then back.“You telling Bateman?”
“No.”Hogan let the word land.“Not yet.”
“Dale?”
“No.”
Dev breathed out through his nose, long enough to count, crossing his arms over his chest.“If this is a trap—”
“It’s not.”The certainty surprised them both.“If I’m wrong, I’ll take the burn.If I’m right, then I need to leave now, before it’s too late.”
Dev watched him another beat and then stepped into the light.“You filed a flight plan, direct to Hawaii.That pings alarms for people watching.You going to take the water line in, not the field?”
“Yes.”Hogan didn’t ask how Dev knew his habits.He just let the respect thread between them.“Breakwater.East side.”
Dev’s eyes cooled.“So, you do know what’s in Hawaii.”
“I know who.”Hogan didn’t say the name.He didn’t need to.
Something eased under Dev’s face—recognition, and a decision.He took out his phone, thumbed through two screens, and then the jet’s console chirped approval like a polite throat-clear.
“Flight plan released,” Dev said.“Minimal tower chatter.You’ll get what you need.”He slid the phone away.“And you’ll owe me a report the minute you’re wheels-down.”
“You’ll get it.”
Dev studied him one last time.“I’m not stopping you.”
“You shouldn’t,” Hogan said, softer than he meant to.“But I appreciate you checking.”
Dev turned to go and paused with his hand on the door bar.He didn’t look back when he said, “Not all roads end in places—sometimes, the roads that are most worth traveling?They end with the right people.”A beat.“Clear skies, Ace.”
