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  “Yet, dear.” Her mother winked. “He’s not your boyfriend yet.”

  “You mean he hasn’t been home in the last three days?” Jett asked, Mrs. Stewart, his father’s neighbor for twenty years. “Did you call the police or anyone?”

  Mrs. Stewart twisted her weathered face in disapproval. “Now, Chile. I keep to myself. You know I make it a point not to stick my nose in anyone’s business.”

  He nodded along with the lie in hopes she’d just spill the beans to why the house was trashed and his father M.I.A.

  “Besides,” Mrs. Stewart went on. “The cops are tired of people always calling about Gerald. If he’s not stumbling drunk into other people’s yard in the middle of the night or trying to break into the wrong house, he’s dragging shady characters into the neighborhood.” She tsk’d under her breath. “Half dressed women and thugs that can’t kept their pants up.”

  Jett scratched his head and drew in a deep breath. None of this information helped him figure out where to begin his search. When he’d first walked into the house, he likened the experience to what it must feel like to wander into the twilight zone.

  Tables were overturned; furniture ripped to shreds, and almost every square inch of the place was covered in shattered glass. Did his father do it in a drunken rage--or had his father, once again, placed himself into something he couldn’t get out of?

  “Okay, thanks, Mrs. Stewart.” He flashed a tight smile and turned away from her door.

  “You know, I always thought you were the good one,” she said sadly. “You’re a good son, looking after your father the way you do.”

  Jett glanced over his shoulder, feeling more than a little guilty for enjoying her praise.

  “God willing, one of these days Gerald going to realize that.” She winked. “I hope you find him.”

  He nodded and descended the porch steps. Where to start? Jett glanced at his watch. He had four hours to find his father before he was to meet Sydney at Hi-Life Café. “I can do this,” he coached himself and headed out to search the usual bars and hole in the walls his father hung out.

  Sydney stared at her reflection in her old bedroom mirror and wondered for the umpteenth time why she’d selected the dress. She did like the color, a beautiful powder blue with a modest collar and short sleeves.

  Her main concern was with the pencil skirt. She would have to take small steps and keep her knees glued together. However, she did like the way the shape gave the illusion of an hourglass figure.

  “Mind if I come in now?” her mother questioned from the other side of the door.

  Sydney drew a deep breath. “Sure. C’mon in.”

  Her mother pushed open the door and immediately gasped at the sight of her. “You look gorgeous,” she commented as she swept into the room. “You’re positively radiant.”

  “Thanks, mom.” She felt strange under the glowing praise. These mother and daughter moments were rare indeed considering Sydney usual wardrobe outside of her Air Force blues were jeans and a t-shirt.

  Sydney turned back toward the mirror. “I was thinking about pining up my hair. What do you think?”

  “No. No.” He mother fussed as she gave her curls a light pat. “You always wear it up. It looks so beautiful down.”

  Sydney nodded but still fretted before her reflection. “You don’t think that I’m trying too hard.” She glanced over at her mother. “What if I’m over dressed?”

  “Nonsense. You look perfect. So stop worrying.”

  Sydney drew a deep breath to calm her nerves uncertain what made her so nervous. Jett was handsome—true; but it wasn’t like she hadn’t been around good-looking men. The Air Force was full of them. There were also no shortages of cocky hotshot pilots either.

  So what is it?

  She thought it over for a long moment while she smoothed her hand down her dress. Then it came to her. It was his eyes. A beautiful gold that twinkled when he smiled, but they held or maybe hid something else.

  “You really like this guy, huh?”

  Her mother’s question jarred her from her private thoughts and she managed a shaky smile. “I really don’t know him, momma.”

  “Uh-huh.” Her mother winked and then walked out the room.

  Sydney arrived at Hi-Life café at precisely eight o’clock. She was a little disappointed that her date was late, but she held onto her smile while the waitress showed her to her table.

  However, eight o’clock came and went.

  So did nine o’clock.

  At two a.m. Jett found his father crumbled in the back alley of a hole in the wall bar nearly forty miles from home. Jett’s investigation with his father’s friends, co-workers, and AA buddies was worthy of a Columbo episode. He couldn’t believe it and it pained him to admit it to himself, but he was terrified he wouldn’t find his father. By the time Jett found him, he was exhausted.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Gerald croaked as Jett struggled to lift him up. “Where’s Xavier?”

  Jett rolled his eyes at his father’s rancid breath. “He’s not here, Pop. Put your arm around my shoulder.”

  Gerald did as his son instructed, but it didn’t stop his obsessive questions about his favorite son. To make matters worse when Jett finally placed his father in the car, he chose that time to empty the rest of his stomach’s contents.

  “Just great,” Jett mumbled. He closed the passenger door and walked to the driver side, praying for strength. He drove back home with all four windows rolled down and his father fast asleep.

  A calm came over him now that his father was safe. When they made it home, Jett struggled again to get his father out of the car and into the house. Getting the man showered and in bed was nothing less than a miracle.

  His heart broke again when he tucked his father in bed.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Gerald smacked his son’s hands away from the sheet. “Where is Xavier?”

  “He’s not here, Pop.” Jett persisted and smoothed down the sheet. “Get some sleep.”

  Gerald yawned and curled up against his pillow. “He’s coming back, you know. He’s coming back.”

  “Sure, Pop.” Jett leaned over and placed a kiss against his father forehead. “Nite.” He turned and walked quietly out of the room.

  After he collapsed in one of the uncluttered armchairs and he was finally able to relax, he remembered his date with Sydney. Jett bounced up and dug out his cell phone and the folded piece of paper with her name and number on it. He punched in the number and glanced at his watch. He groaned when he realized it was three thirty in the morning.

  He wasn’t surprised when he was transferred to voice mail; but at the sound of the beep, he didn’t know what to say.

  “Uh-hey, Sydney. It’s me-your very very late date. Um, I’m so sorry but, er, something sort of came up and I...well, I sort of forgot about our date and I...I know that sounds lame but I guess...well, I guess I wanted to apologize. If you could call me when you get this message I would love to explain everything to.” He paused and searched for something else to say, but came up empty. “Okay then. I look forward to hearing from you. Bye.”

  Jett disconnected the phone and knew within his heart of hearts that Sydney Garrett was never going to call him back. “Goddamn it!”

  On the brink of war...

  Chapter 6

  Tuesday July 4, 2006 00:41 –Atlanta, GA

  Bethany Garrett woke from a deep sleep. For a few heartbeats she wasn’t sure of what had awakened her, but the telephone’s loud shrill caused her heart to leap with fear. No one called her house this time of night—unless there was something wrong.

  Clicking on the lamplight, Bethany jerked up in bed ramrod straight, but she didn’t immediately pick up the receiver. It was almost as if she was momentarily paralyzed with fear. Was it about Steven? Sydney?

  As much as she wanted to dismiss this sudden wave of paranoia, Bethany knew something was wrong.

  Just before the call transferred to t
he answer machine, Bethany found the courage to pick up. However, lifting her arm to place the phone against her ear was a slow and arduous chore.

  “Hello, mom? Are you there?”

  Her entire body exploded with relief at the sound of her son’s voice. Maybe she was paranoid. “Steven.” She sighed and slouched back against the bed’s pillows. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  “Mom, have you seen the news?”

  Bethany noted Steven’s agitation and—panic? “Well, no.” She glanced around the bed to see if she could spot the remote control to her bedroom’s television set.

  As it has been since her husband’s death, the entire left side of the bed was a neat clutter of books, clothes, newspapers, and God knew whatever else. It was a psychological trick not to make the bed seem so empty and she knew it.

  “Mom?”

  “Yeah, wait. Hold on a second.” She spotted the remote atop her latest Michael Connelly novel and jabbed the power button. “It’s on, what am I looking for?” Fear crept into her voice.

  “CNN,” came her son’s flat reply.

  Bethany punched in the right channel and immediately sucked in breath when a newsman with a concrete expression stared at her through the television set. But it was the red letters to the right of his head that held her spellbound. North Korea’s blue and red flag had a one word question scrawled diagonally across it: W-A-R?

  “No,” she croaked. Her mind soared to the last image of Sydney waving goodbye at the glass doors of the Hartsfield-Jackson airport. Dressed in her military blues, Sydney took great pride in being the embodiment of an Air Force fighter pilot. In truth, every time Bethany saw her daughter, her heart broke. She’d never told Sydney this. She’d vowed to never confess her fear of answering her door to see the death angels of the military delivering bad news...again.

  She never dreamed the news would come from her son over the phone.

  Bethany closed her eyes and prayed when she opened them it would be to wake from a nightmare.

  “Mom, are you there?”

  Steven’s voice was all the reality she needed. Her tears didn’t require her eyes to open in order to spill down her cheeks.

  “Momma?”

  “I have to go,” she said. “I have to call your sister. I have to see-”

  “No calls are getting through.” His own voice tumbled over flat notes of despair. The whole damn country is like it’s been wiped...” He drew a breath. “I’ve been calling different newspapers and news stations and they are all unable to confirm anything. A part of it may be the sixteen hour time difference here.”

  Try as she might, Bethany tried to make sense out of what her son was saying or implying, but she couldn’t. She also didn’t want to analyze what the pain ebbing into her heart meant.

  “I even tried calling the Pentagon.” Anguish seized control of Steven’s voice box and his words were punctuated with heart-wrenching sobs. “I-I have a few contacts and I-I-”

  “What are they saying?” Bethany asked though she didn’t want to know. She wasn’t sure whether she could handle it.

  “No one has been able to contact the Osan’s Air Force base.” Steven drew a deep breath and managed to garner some measure of control. “The only base in the region they’ve been able to contact is Kadena.”

  “But that’s in Japan.” Bethany answered remembering her husband’s brief deployment there years ago.

  “Kadena is in high alert maybe even preparing to launch counterattacks-”

  “Counterattacks?”

  “Maybe-probably. Initial reports are saying Kim Jong-il launched six missiles. A few fell into the Sea of Japan. It’s believed North Korea are finally going to deliver on its promise.”

  “And Sydney is right in the middle of it.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Jett didn’t know what was happening to him. Everything moved in slow motion and he felt as if he’d been submerged at the bottom of the ocean and the only sound that filled his ears was his own heartbeats.

  He didn’t remember walking out of the hanger or even returning to his car. Yet, he didn’t return to his new quarters or even turn the engine over. All he did, all he seemed able to do, was sit.

  Jett waited-for the pain, the tears, and the denial--but nothing came. He just felt...numb. What did that mean? He loved Sydney. Even after all this time, that hadn’t changed.

  He remembered in vivid detail the first day he’d laid eyes on her. She was leaning back against a car, her face tilted toward the sky. Nothing before or since had ever looked more beautiful. When she opened her deep, sable-colored eyes, his heart tugged, pinched, and tried to squeeze out of it chest. It was as if it recognized its other half-its better half.

  They were like oil and water from the start. Sydney’s beauty captured his attention, but it was her fire and down right take-no-crap attitude that had him hook, line, and sinker...

  Our love...

  Chapter 7

  Monday August 18, 2003 0800 Hours Nellis Air Base, LV

  Crisp in his Air Force blues, Jett marched beneath the blazing sun. He took special note of the other men marching before him and drew his measure. The best of the best from the Navy and Air Force all marched before him. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and accelerated his heart at the thought of flying and competing against them. He couldn’t wait for the rest of them to discover what he already knew.

  He was the best.

  When he’d learned of his selection for the Weapon School tactical training program there was a satisfaction in knowing that despite his so called ‘hot shot’ tendencies, the powers that be knew what they had in him.

  Upon entering the appointed classroom, Jett chose a seat near the back. It was the perfect bird’s eye view of everything thing and everyone. In minutes, the room was nearly filled to capacity and the instructors had begun to filter in as well from a door in front of the classroom.

  Then something happened. The atmosphere changed. The room’s atoms shifted—something. Whatever it was, Jett was suddenly compelled to glance toward the main door. What he saw shocked the hell out of him.

  Sydney Garrett stepped inside and commanded everyone’s attention. Historically, the military’s uniforms, no matter which branch of service was not all that flattering to a woman’s natural curves and the sterile hairstyles left a lot to be desired. However, Sydney-somehow, someway, strolled into the room and waltzed down the center aisle for a front seat beholding all the grace and beauty of a runway fashion model.

  Yet, Jett experienced a stab of disappointment when she walked past and didn’t notice him-or pretended not to. One thing he noticed was the gold leaf on her uniform.

  Captain Sydney Garrett.

  She outranked him.

  He couldn’t help the chuckle that tumbled from his lips and at the sound of his obvious mirth, he warranted a few curious stares his way-including Captain Garrett.

  If she was surprised or shocked to see him, she kept the emotion well contained. And somehow, her continued cool demeanor turned him on.

  When his gaze fell to the surrounding men following Sydney’s every move, his face heated and his body coiled tight. The faint voice of reason penetrated his rising tide of jealousy and it took every bit of his military discipline to keep him locked and loaded in his chair.

  In the end, he had no choice but to sit and suffer through the men’s open gawking toward his-what? The woman wasn’t his wife or even girlfriend. Hell, in truth, he hardly knew her. His sudden fierce sense of possession bordered insanity.

  At precisely 0830, Major Charles Maxwell moved front and center of the classroom and began his spiel. “Gentlemen, welcome to Nellis Air Force Base-Home of the Fighter Pilot.” Maj. Maxwell crossed his arms behind his back and paced before the assembled airmen. “Nellis is a member of the Air Force’s Air Combat Command and home of the Air force Warfare Center. The Warfare Center is the largest and most demanding advance air combat training in the world. So go ahead. T
ake a look around.”

  At his well-rehearsed pause, everyone did as instructed.

  Maj. Maxwell droned on, “You are looking at the best fighter pilots our fine country has to offer. By now you’ve probably figured out that along with being the best much more is expected of you. In the next nine weeks, I along with Lieutenant Colonel Bryant, Major O’Keefe, and Major Delsanto will see if you have what it takes to rise to the challenge.”

  Jett caught the slight nod of Sydney’s head and then craned his own to get a good look at her beautifully sculpted face. There was something fascinating about the way she gave the instructor one hundred and ten percent of her attention. There was something sexy about the obvious intelligence radiating from every pore of her features.

  Somehow, someway, he had to win her. His pride commanded it, his heart...demanded it.

  For the rest of the class, Jett hardly paid attention to Maj. Maxwell’s class syllabus while he planned his next tactical move with his beautiful Captain.

  At 1100 hours, the officers were dismissed for chow and everyone filed toward the door. Jett suffered through his annoyance at seeing a few of his new colleagues shuffle toward Captain Garrett.

  However, she dismissed their advances with her iceberg aloofness and instead headed straight toward him still settled behind his desk.

  He gave her a lazy salute and an even lazier smile.

  “This is a surprise,” she said, ignoring his salute and folding her arms across her chest.

  “That is an understatement, Captain.” He boldly accessed her figure. “I hardly recognized you.”

  She smiled. “Have anyone ever told you you’re a lousy liar?”