planes, but Fay had gotten the worst of it. Dark circles under her eyes and a haggard droop in her shoulders gave away that she was on the ragged edge. Though she was the fittest seventy-five-year-old he’d ever known, age and illness were catching up with her.
When they had made the connection between the Killswitch and the Oshkosh AirVenture, Morgan had tried to convince the FBI and her superiors to send agents to stop the launch of the spaceplane or at least guard it until it took off. But her suspension had seriously undermined her credibility, and they wouldn’t listen because of a new development.
The private plane carrying Colchev had blown up over an unpopulated region of Canada. Homeland Security suspected that he got cold feet about bringing the xenobium into the US and continued on to Russia. All indications were that the explosive material was mishandled and detonated in flight. Canadian authorities were rushing an investigation team to the area, assisted by forensic units from the FBI and US Air Force. With the trigger gone, Homeland Security felt that the threat from the Killswitch had evaporated, though there was still a massive effort to locate the expensive prototype.
But Tyler didn’t believe Colchev would be so careless or would give up so easily. Which meant his group had to get to Oshkosh and either obtain proof that Colchev was coming there or stop him themselves. Jess had suggested calling in a bomb threat, which would cause the event to be evacuated and the flight to be aborted, but Morgan nixed that idea. She was worried that if Colchev suspected interference in his plans, he might panic and set off the Killswitch in the middle of the air show.
Overnight flights to Chicago were fully booked, so Tyler called for one of Gordian’s executive jets in Seattle to come down to Los Angeles and pick them up. It had the range to take them directly to the air show. He also requested that pistols be packed on the jet since Morgan’s weapon had been confiscated. If they were going to meet up with Colchev’s men again, doing so unarmed would place them at a disadvantage to the Russians.
A maintenance delay taking off from LA made the trip longer than it should have been, so they didn’t land in Wisconsin until only an hour before the launch was supposed to occur. It didn’t leave much time, and despite Fay’s valiant effort, she would only slow them down.
“Fay,” Tyler said, “how are you feeling?”
She smiled wanly. “Just a little tired.”
“Nana, why don’t you take a seat under those umbrellas by the food court?” Jess said, picking up on Tyler’s intention. “That way you can keep an eye on the Skyward and let us know if you see anything unusual.”
Fay looked like she was about to protest, but Jess’s hand on her shoulder changed her mind.
“Maybe you’re right. I can stay out of sight there. If I see Colchev, I’ll call you.”
“Perfect. And remember to drink some water. You could get dehydrated quickly in this heat.”
Fay squeezed Jess’s hand. “Be careful.”
“We will.”
“Oh, and if
Tyler, Jess, Morgan, and Grant picked up the pace as they headed toward the spaceplane.
“She’s a good role model for you,” Tyler said.
“I want to be just like her when I grow up,” Jess said.
“When will that be?”
“In about forty years.”
At the cordon separating the crowds from the area around the spaceplane, they got a good look at the unusual aircraft. Ground crews swarmed the exterior making the final checks before the flight, and yellow-shirted security personnel surrounded the airplane.
“We need to convince them to abort the flight,” Morgan said.
“Without your credentials, that’ll be difficult. Why should they believe us?”
“I’ll disable the plane myself if I have to.”
“We won’t get within twenty yards of it,” Tyler said.
A man from the ground crew passed them. Morgan grabbed his arm. The surprised technician must have thought she was an overzealous onlooker, until she lifted her shirt to show him the gun tucked in her waistband and gave him one of her cards.
“I’m Special Agent Morgan Bell,” she said. “We’ve gotten a report that someone may try to interfere with today’s flight. Has anything unusual happened this morning?”
The nonplussed crewman looked at the card and then at Morgan with wide eyes. The confidence in her tone convinced the man she was who she claimed to be.
“No, ma’am,” he said. “We’ve got everything under control, and all systems are go for the launch.”
“What about the crew?”
“They’re still in the Weeks hangar getting prepped. Should be here in thirty minutes.”
“Who’s in charge here?”
“That would be Robert Gillman. He’s the flight director. You’ll find him in the mobile control center over there.”
He pointed at a trailer with a satellite dish mounted on its roof.
“Tell him I’m coming to talk to him,” Morgan said, releasing the man. He nodded and trotted toward the trailer.
“What do you think?” Grant said.
“You and I will meet with the flight director, try to get him to scrub the demonstration. But I don’t want to put all our eggs in that basket. Tyler, you and Jess go find the flight crew and see if you can delay them until we get some real security out here. And if you spot Colchev or his men, do not engage. Call me first.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Tyler said.
As Morgan and Grant trotted to the command center, Tyler and Jess headed back the way they came. Tyler checked the official guide and found the Weeks hangar on the map.
“That’s all the way over on the opposite end of the airport,” Jess said. “Even if we jog, it’ll take a while to get there.”
Tyler spotted a utility cart parked behind the EAA Welcome Center. He took Jess’s hand and ran to it. The key was still in it.
“We’ll borrow this. Hop on.”
Tyler started it up and aimed it toward the northern hangars, dodging pedestrians until they got into the open and he could floor it.
“Is this what your life is like now, Tyler?”
He suddenly realized that this was the first time he and Jess had been alone together since leaving Peru.
“You mean, gallivanting around the world on caffeine and no sleep, barely living through each day?”
“Not to mention stealing vehicles and blowing up Air Force jets.”
“I don’t do this kind of stuff all the time,” Tyler said. “But it does seem to be happening more frequently the last couple of years. Do you like the craziness of it?”
“Yes. No. Both.”
“It sounds like your doctor friend does something similar.”
“This Doctors Without Borders job is short-term. Andy’s not going to be doing it forever.”
At the north field Tyler cut through the entrance to the aircraft parking area. The gunmetal gray hangar was up ahead.
“Then what’s next for you?” Tyler said. “The house in Queenstown? A private practice where he’s stitching up snowboarders and bungee jumpers? Kids?”
“Do
“I did when I was with Karen.”
“And now?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does to me.”
“Only with someone I love.”
“Would you be willing to give up the globe-trotting?”
