CHAPTER 1

"Good, good. Now bring it to the right a little, too far - left, left!" the director screeched through the radio.

"I thought I was the I was the pilot here," Caitlin murmured under her breath.

"Come around in a wide arc and land right where we practiced." He watched as the solid black helicopter swept by in a graceful arc and deftly landed precisely where it had been instructed. Something wasn't right though - maybe the way the sunlight glinted off the shiny exterior, it was a little too much. "Caitlin, honey, we're gonna do it again in, say, ten minutes. The sun isn't aligned right if you're going to fly so low."

"Right," she answered, a disgusted tone beginning to edge here voice. "I'm going to take a few then if that's alright," your highness, she mentally finished.

"Sure, sure. Just remember, I need you in position in…" he glanced at his watch more for emphasis than actual use, "Seven minutes."

In other words, she had enough time to make it to the bathroom before she had to be back out here, if she hurried. "I'll be there," she offered him a smile, uncaring at this point how fake it looked, because in fact she would have like to have been wringing his neck.

No wonder String was so willing to let her have this one. She had thought for a brief moment he had been exhibiting common sense, a characteristic he usually did well at proving he didn't have. He probably shouldn't be flying stunts, at least not yet. When he found out the director was Gabriel Ramirez, any interest he might have had quickly faded and she'd though that might be a good thing this time especially since last time he and Saint John had taken a job with Ramirez they'd lost the job. Now she could see how that could happen.

"Caitlin," her foreign director's assistant called, sounding more like Cat-leen than Caitlin.

"Yes?"

"Director say is ready now, rapidmente 'fore sun sets."

"Coming," Caitlin answered, thankful the sun was setting and with it the opportunities for his "perfect" shot. Somehow she figured he could come up with something that would do with the library's worth of shots he already had by now.

"Hurry, hurry. We're running out of time."

"You are running out of time, I'm ready to quit anytime," she mumbled as she climbed back into the helicopter.

The sun was almost completely beyond the horizon by the time the director gave her the ok, and as petty as it might be, she was so glad they were being paid by the hour.

"Out of sunlight," Ramirez said reluctantly, "guess we'll have to make something we have work. Lukis will see to it you get the rest of your money and you can be on your way - nice working with the professionals of Santini Air again, especially someone more appreciative of my creative ability. The last ones couldn't quite grasp it, then decided they could play around and still get paid for it, that or neither of them knew how to handle a helicopter. Either way it doesn't much matter since I was sent someone who actually knew what they were doing."

She bit her tongue until it bled, but that wasn't enough to stop her. And there was no way she was going to stand for him trashing two of the best pilots she knew.

"They are both very good pilots and have logged a heck of a lot more hours than I have. If you ever had the chance to watch him fly unrestricted by your 'creative ability' maybe you would understand how good he is at it. And I'm not going to listen to you trash talk about my husband and brother-in-law."

\A/

By the time Caitlin got back to the hangar forty-five minutes later, she was exhausted and still had to fly back to the cabin alone in the dark, an idea that was growing less and less appetizing by the minute.

Or so she thought.

Chance appeared from behind a large wooden crate, an occasional packing peanut sticking to his clothes.

"What have you been up to?" she asked, bending down to give him a hug.

"Flyin'," Chance answered simply.

"What?"

"Don't get too worried," String placated, as he too appeared from behind the great box, "at least not yet," he added with an unrepentant half-smile.

"Maybe the real question is what have you been up to?"

"Chance helped me put away all the parts that came in," he explained, "so we decided to play pilot afterward until you came back."

"I see. You ready to head back then?"

"Had enough of Mr. Pain in the..." String began.

"I'd rather not talk about him," Caitlin interrupted, "much less see him anymore, thank you. And I don't think you gave me a fair warning before I left either."

"I was still half asleep," he argued.

"I don't think that would have impaired your judgment in his case."

"That was is probably true," he gave in, "but it should have been something of a clue when Sinj and I came back early last time."

"You mean when you two got fired last time."

"Yeah, that. Hey, I thought you said you didn't wand to talk about him anymore. Let's get out of here."

"Alright, let's go."

"I'm flying though," String pronounced.

"You're what? I don't think so; that wrist of yours still isn't healed."

"Hasn't stopped me yet."

"But it should."

"But it hasn't, and you're tired. I can fly just fine. It's me or Chance."