Targets of Opportunity

Chapter TWENTY

Nick Palmer, dressed in expensive white loafers, white slacks, polo shirt, and sea-green sports coat, entered the hotel bar and spied Brad. Austin had called his room to wake him.

Brad motioned to the bartender while Palmer slid onto the bar stool next to Austin.

"I gather from the look of your eyes," Brad said lightly, "that you had quite a night?"

Nick slowly moved his head back and forth. "The part I can remember was a helluva time."

Palmer waited until the barkeeper placed the tall Bloody Mary in front of him. "How's Leigh Ann?"

Brad hesitated, trying to squelch the concerns that were bothering him. "I don't have the slimmest clue. I still haven't been able to get in touch with her."

From the look on Austin's face, Palmer decided not to pursue the subject of Leigh Ann. "We had a message from our CIA friends when I checked in."

"What now?"

Palmer stretched his arms to relieve the stiffness in his shoulders. "I'm supposed to catch an Air America flight early this evening."

Expecting a further explanation, Brad sipped his beer and turned to Nick. "What about me?"

"You and Allison are due to leave here tomorrow afternoon." Palmer produced a slip of paper from his jacket pocket. "At twelve-thirty, to be exact."

Brad gave him a puzzled look. "When is Allison's flight due to arrive?"

"Tomorrow morning. Her flight number is the same as yours, so whatever time you arrived."

Palmer finished his drink and signed their bill. "Come on, Brad. We'll have a leisurely lunch, and then tour Hong Kong by rickshaw until I have to catch my flight."

Shortly before noon, Brad stepped out of the small wooden line shack at Kai Tak airport. Carrying his rumpled overnight bag, he proceeded to the C-47 parked at the edge of the ramp. The battered workhorse showed the scars of thousands of landings on rough, short airstrips.

Clad in civilian attire, Brad approached the aging aircraft and was met by a brash young man with a clipboard.

"Name?" the man said curtly.

"Austin," Brad replied firmly, wondering if Allison was already on board. "Are we going to leave on time?"

"Who knows?" came the abrupt reply. "We're waiting for some broad to show up."

Brad flared at the derogatory remark, but let it pass. He walked under the left wing, studying the oil drippings from the big radial engine. He was about to cross to the right wing when he got a glimpse of Allison stepping out of the line shack.

Brad walked briskly toward her, wondering if she would be her usual self or coldly aloof. "Hi, Allison."

"Hello," she responded with a pleasant smile while he grabbed her two bags.

"Are you all set?" she asked the copilot when they reached the airplane.

Brad looked at the copilot, noting the cocky smile on the man's pockmarked face.

"I believe we are, ma'am," he said with obvious effort to be polite. "The captain is ready to crank the engines."

After boarding the aircraft, Allison and Brad selected seats behind the other passengers. The three disheveled men who reeked of alcohol were pilots for Air America. Two had already gone to sleep, while the third man stared vacantly out the window.

After takeoff, the pilot executed a steep turn and began a shallow climb toward the South China Sea. When they had reached the desired cruising altitude, the crew reduced power and trimmed the aircraft for level flight.

Allison leaned close to Brad. "We have another MiG-17, and a twenty-one is on the way," she confided with a gleam in her eye. "That's why I was late."

"Interesting," Brad replied, inclining his head toward her. "Why did you arrange to have me wait for you?"

"You get right to the point." Allison smiled ingenuously. "So I'll do the same."

Brad stared into her deep brown eyes. It was impossible to resist her charm and beauty.

Allison met his stare. "I wanted to talk to you."

Unable to conceal a small chuckle, Brad looked at his watch for a few seconds. "Well, I'm certainly a captive audience for the next few hours."

"I've been thinking about us," she said simply. "I know you were upset with me the night before we left… all the questions about your personal life."

He started to protest, but decided to listen to her obviously well-thought-out feelings.

"I just wanted to tell you that I understand how you feel, but I have my responsibilities." She paused and smiled suggestively. "I hope we can still be friends."

Brad nodded attentively, but the warning lights were flashing in his mind.

Allison lowered her eyes without looking directly at him. "We could be friends — close friends — can't we?" Her voice was a soft whisper.

Brad's resistance faded. He reached over and gingerly pulled her head to his shoulder.

"Yes," he answered evenly, knowing full well how difficult a "close friend" relationship would be.