Chapter Fifteen
The last five days had been mile after mile of flight time once they’d left the first military base. Liz had had plenty of time to reread the letter from Drake. After much self-evaluation, she’d discovered she wasn’t like her mother when it came to being strong and self-reliant. Sure, she still had a level of fear, but in a controlled way. And sometimes that meant one moment at a time.
On the other hand, Mitch always seemed to be thinking five steps ahead. Like a chess game, he appeared to be making each move for a deliberate reason. He was an interesting man to understand. Difficult to get to know. One second, he’d be strong and to the point in what he expected. The next, kind and thoughtful, explaining where, why, and when for what he asked her to do. She liked the thoughtful Mitch better but understood the strong side…even felt an allegiance.
Liz had thought, once the chopper picked them up, everything would fall into place. Instead, their itinerary had included traveling to one state after another. One city after another. One government runway after another. Although, the place last night had been nothing more than an airstrip in the middle of nowhere.
They’d ridden everything from a commercial airline to private jet to a prop puddle jumper. But nothing had compared to the adventure of taking off from land in an amphibious plane in Michigan, only to touch down on one of the many lakes in Wisconsin a few hours later.
On some flights, Mitch, Reese, and she were all on board. Others, Mitch and she went one direction. Reese went another, only to be magically waiting for them at the next stop. Too bad she hadn’t been able to use her frequent flyer number.
She might be shorter and slower, but she’d kept up all the way. Mitch had told her, after their last flight landed at Fort Benning, Georgia, that they were almost to the location he’d chosen to hide the two of them. Reese had headed in a different direction. Now, Mitch and she were in a car with tinted windows, one that could probably outrun every other car on the road, and they were going five miles below the speed limit. He seemed to be going out of his way to obey every driving law.
The dashboard clock read 4:00 p.m. What time zone? She had no idea. The sun was on the right side of the car, so she figured they were heading south. Suddenly, a tree at the side of the road caught her attention, then another, and another.
“Are those palm trees?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Palm trees grow in Florida?”
“Yeah.”
“Where the hell are you taking us?” She didn’t use curse words lightly; then again, she’d done a lot of things in the past few days she didn’t usually do. What was one more?
“We’re headed to the safest place I know.” He rolled his head in a circle, complete with tiny popping sounds. “I think you’ll like it. Got a great view.”
“Let me get this straight. There are people chasing us. I’m a target. You’re a target. The whole OPAQUE organization is a target.” She heard her voice getting louder, but she couldn’t stop. “But no matter what, there are no worries, because there’s a”—she shook her frustration fists in front of her face—”Damn. Great. View.”
Pressing her fingers against her forehead, she turned to look out the passenger window. Palm trees, palm trees, palm trees.
Mitch grinned. “You seem a little…uh…upset.”
“Upset? Upset is nothing compared to how you make me feel.” She pointed her finger in his direction and glared. “You’re crazy. You. Are. All. Crazy.”
“Think so?”
“Know so.”
Her control had reached its breaking point, and his grin had tipped her over the line. “What is with the Sunday-driving-eighty-year-old speed we keep going?”
Mitch slammed the pedal down and the car jolted forward as its tires ate up the clear road straight ahead. He accelerated in and out of curves, left, then right, back left. She gripped the door rest and pressed her feet on the nonexistent brake in the passenger side floor. Quickly he braked, spun a three-sixty, and came out headed straight on down the road back at the breakneck speed of five below the speed limit.
Blowing out a sigh, she settled back in her seat. “Like I said…you’re crazy.”
“Would a crazy guy be breaking every rule in the training manual, hoping CT can’t figure out where we’re headed? Doing anything he can think of to throw them off the scent?” Mitch clicked open the moonroof. “Would a crazy guy fly us all over the United States? Sometimes hidden, sometimes letting anyone who might be clocking us know exactly where we were?”
He made sense on some level. After all, she’d overheard him making arrangements for everything they’d done. Always thinking three steps ahead. Directing Reese and Josh on their responsibilities. Keeping her shielded, close against his side. Making sure she had everything she needed—clothes, food, magazines, shampoo, and a different shampoo when the first one didn’t get the camo makeup out of her hair. Neither had that one. She looked more and more like a freak every time she looked in a mirror.
“Well, would he?” Mitch asked. “I don’t think so. Hell, I’ve got CT so screwed up they have no idea where we are. For all they know, we may be in another country.”
At this point, being in another country wouldn’t have surprised her, but she didn’t want to talk any more. Didn’t want to think. “I’m just tired. So very, very tired.”
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, laying her hand on the seat.
“I know.” His voice softened as he covered her hand with his own, squeezing lightly. “We’ll be there soon, and you can get some rest.”
She’d grown to love the warmth of his hand on hers. The way he steered her with a touch of his hand against the small of her back. Or how he’d move her from one side of him to the other with only a touch of his fingers on her arm. She’d miss that when this was over.
