Indy laughed, and pushed together the charts and schematics and the lists they had compiled. 'Gentlemen, that does it. Colonel Henshaw, the sooner all this is done, the better.'
'Yes, sir. Like I said, my men will be working on double shifts, right around the clock.'
Sergeant Korwalski hesitated before speaking again, but he couldn't hold back the question that had been growing in his mind. 'Sir, this may be out of line, but can I ask you something?'
'Feel free, Sergeant.'
'Everything you're doing with this airplane. I mean, we're building some special bombardment models of the Ford.'
'You can tell him,' Henshaw said. 'It's the XBnine oh six project.'
'But this is way ahead of our schedule,' Korwalski went on. 'Sir, are we going to war?'
Silence hung among the group like a fog. Indy rose slowly to his feet to face Korwalski, and Indy wasn't smiling.
'Unfortunately,' he said slowly, 'the answer to that is yes.'
7
'Change.'
'What?'
'I asked you to change,' Indy said to Gale Parker. 'You know, a different outfit.'
Gale studied herself in the mirror. 'What's wrong with what I'm wearing?'
'It's great if we're going hunting, or mountain climbing,' Indy answered, trying not to show a smile. 'But not for dinner.'
'Indy, we're inside a hangar at an army base where—' She studied him carefully, her head tilted slightly to one side.
'I had a dog used to do that,' he jibed. 'Goodlooking dog, too.'
'You're comparing me with a dog?' she exclaimed. A touch of red appeared in her cheeks.
'Well, she didn't dress for dinner, either. But I meant the way you tilted your head to one side. Like you were listening extra carefully.'
'Indiana Jones, you've lost your mind,' she said sharply. 'I will not change my clothes simply to sit with this gang of yours in this hangar and—'
'Who said anything about dining with a gang?'
'You said . . . ' She faltered for a moment, trying to get his drift. Try as she could, she couldn't get past the poker face he was holding. 'You said, dining,' she completed her sentence. 'Indy, are you asking me for a date?'
'You could call it that. You could also call it an order. But, yes,' he admitted,
'it is a date. Not in a hangar, not with our crew. You, me. Downtown. You know, Dayton. There's a great Italian restaurant there. I've made reservations and we leave in ten minutes, so I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't waste any more time playing word games.'
She started to answer but only managed an open mouth.
'Oh, yes, one more thing.' He reached into his leather jacket and withdrew a strap holster with a .25caliber automatic snugged tightly within the leather. 'Wear a dress. Strap this on just above your knee. I assume you know how to use this if necessary?'
She had recovered quickly. 'Are we going to kill something for dinner? A wild lasagna, perhaps?'
'That's pretty good. I'll tell that to the manager at Del Vecchio. We're going to be late if you don't stop asking questions, lady.' He started for the door, looking over his shoulder. 'Ten minutes.' He was gone.
She stood looking at the closed door for a good thirty seconds. She felt bewildered. Indy . . . taking her out to dinner? To a classy restaurant? She rifled through her closet. I'll kill him. This is an expedition, not a social event. . . .
Quickly she selected a flare skirt, hardly evening dress. But a silk blouse and a kerchief and— No high heels. The suede boots. They'll do. . . . She had barely finished dressing and was frantically trying to make something sensible out of her hair when she heard Indy knocking at the door.
She had only once seen him in anything but that beatenup leather jacket and rumpled trousers. She recognized the suede jacket he'd worn when he went to Chicago, and was amazed to see him in neatly pressed brown trousers. He had a bolo tie. Naturally, it's got the head of a rattlesnake for that real dressy look, she thought sarcastically.
He looked her up and down. 'You, Miss Parker, are one spiffy lady.'
'Spiffy?'
'It's a compliment.'
'You have a strange language over here, Indy.'
'Okay,' he said pleasantly. 'You look swell. Dynamite, in fact. Let's go.' He turned and started down the corridor, letting her run to catch up. Outside the hangar a black Packard was parked. He opened the door for her. She wondered if he was going crazy. They were partners, everyone equal. She liked equal, and being offered the courtesies due a lady for an evening engagement was foreign to her.
They sat in silence for several minutes until they were on the road to Dayton.
'Indy?'
'Uhhuh.'
