a cobalt darkness in his narrowing eyes. “Because there’s no way in the world I’m going to lose you, Layne. This mission is dangerous at every turn.” He briefly clenched his hands together, the knuckles whitening.
“I’ll be okay,” she assured him. “But it would help to know something about the mission, Matt. Can you tell me anything?”
His features became closed and unreadable. “Believe me, Layne, I’d tell you if I could.”
“Don’t give me that compartmentalized policy!” Her eyes grew amber with fury. “If I’m sticking my neck out on the same line as you, I should know what I’m walking into!”
Matt nodded. “Under any other circumstance, I’d agree with you, Layne.” He motioned for her to come and sit down next to him. At first, she just stared at him, then finally acquiesced. “Look,” he began in a quiet voice, “British Special Intelligence is in on this. And so is the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Not to mention the other side of the coin, which consists of KGB and People’s Republic of China agents. Then we have the unknown entity in the guise of the pirates. As you said before, they live by their own codes and laws. They owe allegiance to no one.”
“Except to themselves. You’re sure that People’s Republic of China has agents trying to find whatever we’re after?” Layne asked.
“Positive.” He leaned back, closing his eyes momentarily. “Right now we’re walking into the biggest game in football.”
Layne tilted her head. “The Super Bowl?”
Matt opened his eyes, staring directly at her. A wry smile surfaced. “I’ll be the quarterback and you be my wide receiver. We’ll win this game.”
Her returning laugh was soft and lilting, stroking him like the delicate brush of a flower petal against his flesh. “Remember, I grew up in the Orient. I’m afraid I never liked football. Mind telling me what it’s about so that I have a more complete picture of what we’re getting into?”
Matt warmed to her team spirit. Layne could have said “what I’m getting into,” instead, she’d automatically included him. That was good. It might save their lives at some point in the future. “As a kid I played football. I was a quarterback in high school.”
“Sounds like you’re good at being a quarterback.”
“I am.”
“And were you a state champion?” Layne guessed. With his natural athletic grace, she imagined him being highly competitive.
“I usually won my games.” Matt grinned, then sobered. “And in this game, it’s you and me on one team and the pirates on the other. Only they’ll be throwing bullets or knives instead of a harmless ball.”
Her flesh grew cool, and Layne lost her smile. “What are our chances, Matt?”
He heard the tremor of fear veiled in her husky voice. “Better with you along, that’s for sure.”
“Don’t evade my question. That’s a Company tactic.”
Matt winced inwardly at the pleading in Layne’s voice. “All right,” he began grimly, “we stand a thirty-seven percent chance of completing this mission.”
“That’s what the computer has projected?”
“Yes.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question entirely.”
His gaze rested on her. Again, Matt saw the flicker of a woman who could possess great leadership ability if she chose to bring it out and utilize that facet of herself. “We could get killed by KGB or PRC or the pirates.”
“Not the pirates.”
Grimly, Matt pursed his lips into a thinner line. “Look, we’re not even sure if your lao-pan has what we want. There are other pirate clans out there in those hundreds of islands. And not all of them are friendly with one another. If it has fallen into other hands, we may need the lao-pan’s help in getting it from another of his factions. That would mean exposing ourselves to yet another enemy. It’s not a pretty picture, Layne.”
“Dammit, tell me what ‘it’ is, Matt! I’m tired of this pussy-footing around the object or thing we’re supposed to get or find.”
“You’ll know soon enough after we contact the lao-pan, Layne. But not until then.”
She glared at him. “Well, I’ve got some of it figured out. You’re a pilot. Someone who’s testing state-of-the-art aircraft. The Company wouldn’t be sending you over here unless a plane of some sort was involved. I haven’t seen anything in the paper to indicate that one of our aircraft has been shot down. So, it must be a reconnaissance aircraft. Or something our government was secretly testing that couldn’t be tracked by radar. The RAVEN bomber is such a plane.”
Matt gave her a grudging look of admiration. “Your father didn’t raise you to be a dummy, did he?”
“My dad taught me to think on my feet,” she returned sharply.
“Well, it isn’t a RAVEN, so forget about that angle, Layne.”
“All right,” she continued, her eyes bright, “a reconnaissance aircraft. An SR-71 B-2. Maybe a U-2. Probably a B-2 because I know they fly that area off the coast of China, monitoring Russian as well as Chinese activity.”
He said nothing, holding her challenging glare. He longed to share his fears and tell her that it was his younger brother whose life hung in the balance. Hell, he didn’t even know if Jim was alive or dead. “No lies, Layne. I can’t confirm or deny your conjectures.”
Layne leaned forward, bare inches separating them. She could feel the heat of his body, smell the dizzying male scent of him, and it excited her. But she dove on, heedless of the dangerous tension that coiled invisibly around him. “A bird goes down. If it’s a B-2 that means two pilots are involved. If it was a U-2, one pilot. Either way, there are lives at stake. Highly trained pilots who are the cream of the Air Force’s crop carrying the most vital avionics technology in their heads. I’m sure the KGB would love to get their hands on our pilot and pull the secrets out of him.”
She saw Matt’s flesh tighten around his cheekbones and mouth, the color draining from his face. Layne instinctively retreated as he slowly turned his head, his thundercloud black eyes pinning her savagely.
“Leave it alone, Layne,” he ground out. “Back off.”
Shaken, Layne stared openmouthed for a second, assimilating the anguish behind his warning. Matt’s hands were white-knuckled on the arms of the recliner. He appeared as if he were going to explode any second—at her. Taking in a gulp of air, Layne rapidly gathered her sharded thoughts. Matt was too emotional, which verified that she was very close to the truth. But no spy ever allowed the feelings that Matt displayed to surface. And that left her shaken. Was he really a test pilot working for the Company as only a part-time and rarely triggered second vocation? A part of her heaved a great sigh of relief if that were true; another part froze in abject fear. Matt was too human, then, for her own good. All that kindness and sensitivity in him was a natural extension of his true self—not some act to manipulate her like a pawn.
“Matt, I—”
“Drop it, Layne.”
“But—”
He turned and faced her squarely, his features hard. “Not another word about it, Layne.”
She reared back, fury etched in every feature of her face. “Don’t try to treat me like some child! Brad tried that, too. I won’t be parented. You either treat me like an adult or else.”
“Quit overreacting and comparing me to Carson, dammit! I’m a hundred and eighty degrees opposite to him in every way. If you want this mission to go smoothly, you’d best start learning to trust and judge me as an individual, not as some counterpart of your late husband. I’m going to need your help, not your