A Time for Patriots

“You’re right, we shouldn’t,” Jon said. He held out his hand. “Got a credit card? We’ll make it a straight-out purchase. The company will be happy.”

“But I don’t have enough money to—”

“There you go again with the negative waves, Patrick,” Jon said with a laugh. “Always with the reasons not to do it. C’mon, it’ll be fine. I just need the account number — I won’t run anything against it. If it works, we’ll work something out moneywise. I’ll order up the parts and bring a mechanic up from Vegas, and we’ll have you flying in no time.”

* * *

Brad changed out of his flight suit and into civilian clothes, then sat by himself outdoors at a picnic table beside the hangar. My first flight as mission scanner — on an actual mission, no less — and I can’t handle being a backseater, he lamented to himself. This really sucks.

He had reserved the entire day for flying, and now he had nothing to do. He pulled out his cell phone and was going to start calling his buddies to find out what they were up to when he found Cassandra Renaldo’s business card.

Should I do it? he asked himself. She was an older woman, but she was still hot as hell. Was she just stringing him along, being a cockteaser or trying to make a fool out of him, or was she serious about wanting to see him again? He wished he knew more about women, like Ron Spivey did — he always seemed to have a different girl every week, and even when he treated them like crap, they always seemed to come back. How did guys learn how to do that?

I guess this is one way, Brad thought as he commenced dialing her number…

* * *

“Renaldo.”

“It’s me. Brad.”

Cassandra looked up at Special Agent Chastain and nodded. “Let me finish up here and go somewhere where I can talk. Hang on.” She put the call on hold.

“Who is that?” Chastain asked.

“Bradley McLanahan,” she said, smiling evilly. “I told you he’d call.”

Chastain smiled back. “Reel him in,” he said.

She took the call off hold a few moments later. “I’m so glad you called, Brad,” she said in her sweetest, most heartfelt voice. Chastain shook his head and smiled at her performance. “I’ve missed seeing you. How are you?”

“I’ve been better.”

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“It’s an… an airsickness thing. I’m okay when I’m piloting, but not so good when I’m in back.”

“Oh no,” Renaldo said. “Are you all right now?”

“Oh yes, I’m good.”

“Then when can I see you?”

There was a bit of a pause; then: “Well, I was supposed to be flying all day, but that’s been canceled…”

“I heard — someone shot at a Civil Air Patrol plane,” she said. “You mean, you

were on that plane?”

“Yes.”

“My God, Brad! How awful!”

“So I’m… I’m not doing anything for the rest of the day.”

“That’s perfect,” Renaldo said, giving Chastain a wink. “You’re at the Civil Air Patrol hangar now?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect. If you walk down Powell Avenue toward the base exchange, I’ll pick you up in about ten minutes. We can go to my place. How does that sound?”

“Okay.”

“Great. I’ll see you soon, baby.” She hung up. “He’s on the line — now it’s time to start landing him,” she said to Chastain. She thought for a moment, then asked, “How bad do you want the dad?”

“Badly.” Chastain picked up the latest report from Brady’s reconnaissance of the suspected terrorist compound. “So far we’ve discovered that there are nineteen residents of the Knights’ compound who are active members of the Civil Air Patrol Battle Mountain squadron. All but two are ex-military. Eight are Iraq and Afghanistan vets, including multiple deployments; four are Desert Storm vets; and two are Vietnam vets. All have combat experience. We’re trying to obtain medical backgrounds on them, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find some PTSD cases in there, or worse. McLanahan could have his own little strike force in that CAP outfit.”

“Then I’ve got an angle on the son that could really lock him in good,” Renaldo said. “I’m going to meet up with him. I’m going to borrow a little something from our drop stash, okay?”

Chastain looked at her seriously. “I definitely see why they call you the ‘Black Widow,’ Renaldo.”

“Nothing evil, I assure you,” she said. “I’m not going to hurt him — well, maybe just a little. But if you want him, and the dad, I’ll get them for you.”

Chastain thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Have fun,” was all he said.

“Oh, I intend to,” Renaldo said with a growing crocodile smile. “I intend to.”

Temporary Housing Area, Joint Air Base Battle Mountain

That same time