Chapter 2

The flight was scheduled to last almost two hours. They soared just over the cloud cover and Sam could see the sunset disappearing quickly in the distance to their left. He turned on the overhead reading light, and once they were at cruising altitude, he put his tray table down so he could work some more on the intel he had and figure out where the missing pieces were.

The drink cart rattled down the aisle and stopped behind him. "Miss, would you like something to drink?"

"Oh yeah, sure. Just a club soda and cranberry juice, please."

"Coming right up." The flight attendant quickly served her and moved forward to Sam's row. "Sir, would you like anything?"

"Uh, yeah, some water." He answered distractedly, reached out, and barely acknowledged her as he took the bottle she held for him. "Thanks."

"Are you a writer? Looks like you and the lady in 12B could strike up a conversation."

Sam looked up at her. "Huh?"

The flight attendant smiled and tilted her head toward the woman with the dark hair, then leaned closer to him. In a soft voice, she said, "That's Vivien Chase. She's a New York Times bestselling author. Isn't that something?"

Sam glanced over his seat at the woman. She sipped on her drink and seemed to have all her attention on her laptop, ignoring them completely. "Looks like she's kind of busy. So am I, preparing a...presentation."

"Ah, well good luck!" She gave him a wink and moved toward the other passengers farther up front.

Sam shook his head. It was pretty obvious what the flight attendant was trying to do. If he hadn't been so focused, maybe he would have taken a chance with Miss Vivien in 12B. However, his friend's happiness, and his sanity, was at stake. As much as Mike might deny it, he was no good without Fiona. He needed her beside him like the Miami beaches needed sunshine.

Turbulence hit the plane and set it bouncing as if it ran over a pothole laden road. Sam grabbed his water bottle before it spilled over files and notes. The cabin twisted to the left abruptly, and he held his papers down with one arm. A woman farther up front screamed. These things always settle themselves. No need to get excited. Within seconds, the airplane flew on an even course again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain. We apologize for the unexpected turbulence. We're passing near a storm and we'll be rerouting around it. Unfortunately this will cause a delay of approximately 45 minutes for our arrival in Washington. We thank you for your patience."

Sam sighed. Forty five minutes, not too bad. But that means it'll be late by the time I arrive at the hotel and get some sleep. Oh well, maybe I'll just take advantage of the extra time for some shut-eye now. In his career, Sam learned how to get his sleep any time, anywhere, and thanks to working with Michael he was able to keep up the habit. He packed away his work, folded the tray table, and got up to put the laptop case into the overhead bin. As he closed the latch, the plane lurched again, throwing him down into the aisle.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Sam was stunned as he clung to the arm rest of the seat where Vivien Chase sat looking down at him with concerned eyes. "Yeah, I...I'm okay. This turbulence is the worst I've ever experienced, and I've flown on a lot of different aircraft."

"I much prefer the big jets. They're a lot smoother."

Sam picked himself off the floor and got back into the seat on the aisle. "Yeah, although if I were in the middle of some action, nothing beats a good chopper." He chuckled and noticed that she was still staring at him. "What?"

"You, um, you're bleeding. Here, let me get that," Vivien said as she dipped a napkin into her drink and touched the spot on his forehead.

"Ow! Hey, leave it alone! I'll get it." He reached over to the seat pocket where he stuck a napkin earlier and pressed it to the wound. He pulled it back, looked at the blood and made a face. "Ah, it's nothing. I've had lots worse."

Vivien laughed. "I suppose, being a SEAL, you've seen a lot of action."

He glanced down at the insignia that caught her attention and looked back up at her. "Yeah. I've been around a few unfriendly countries. But I'm retired from all that now."

Her brows knit. "Then why are you in uniform?"

"Long story."

"I thought there were rules against retired personnel wearing..."

"I was honorably discharged. The rules don't say I can't wear it, and I normally wouldn't, but...my business requires it."

"I see." She nodded, but he wasn't sure she understood.

"So, what about you? You seem to have a lot of knowledge about the military."

"Yes, Commander. I'm a Lieutenant in the medical corps." She paused and smiled wryly. "I worked on a carrier most of my career, and when I realized I wasn't going to get much farther than Lieutenant, I asked for reassignment to someplace a little more dangerous. I wanted to join the SEALs, but the government is still too chauvinistic to let women into their cozy little group."

"Well, any woman who can run in heels like you did deserves a shot." He said with a smile and a wink. "Are you on leave?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Where are you stationed?"

She smiled. "I wanted action, but now I work at the naval hospital in Bethesda. Who says the government doesn't have a sense of humor?"

He laughed. "The flight attendant thought you were a writer."

"That's my side job, although it's fast eclipsing my day job," she replied. "I'm not ready to give up helping people, though. Writing is what I do for fun."

"Helping people is good." Maybe some day, he, Mike, and Fi could get back to doing that themselves. He cracked a grin and pressed the napkin to the cut on his forehead. It still bled a little. "So, I guess when you saw blood, you just couldn't resist, could ya?"

"No Sir, I guess not." She laughed and shook her head. "It's a calling that's so deeply ingrained I couldn't help myself. Although, I wouldn't normally use something like a half drunk glass of club soda and cranberry juice. I figured the acidity in the juice would help kill any germs."

"At least you're resourceful. A good characteristic to have."

The plane took another dive, and it felt like they were at the top of a rollercoaster going down. The entire plane vibrated as they dropped out of the sky. People screamed. An overhead bin popped open and rained down its contents onto passengers. Okay, maybe now is a good time to be concerned. He swore he could hear the engines straining as the pilot attempted to get them on an even level again. Sam was pretty sure they left his stomach somewhere back at 35,000 feet. Something went BOOM, the plane lurched to the side, and the oxygen masks dropped from their compartments. Oh, this is definitely not good!

Sam put on his mask and looked back to make sure Vivien had hers. She tightened the strap and she gave him a thumbs up. A woman still screamed up front and Sam could see arms flailing around over the seats. But the sound died when a distinct whistling grew louder. They were still losing altitude, the plane was out of control, and they were looking at drilling straight into the ground if the pilot couldn't get it straightened out soon. Sam heard another booming sound, followed by the whir of engines. In that instant, he recognized that somehow the engines stalled and the pilot was able to restart them. They were bucked around and jostled some more, but they finally straightened out. He sat back in his seat, made sure he was still buckled in tightly, and breathed a sigh of relief as his stomach came back to join him.

Then the lights went out, metal creaked and ripped, and Sam's world literally turned upside down.