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  The mountains! He could use the mountains! If the burst occurred over the desert, as was now looking more and more certain, the mountains might act as a shield. The high peaks had certainly contained the green haze Kate and Dave had observed last night.

  Every nerve center in her body screaming, Kate raced to Captain Westfall. Somehow she managed to spill out a succinct, coherent version of her theory. The captain took all of thirty seconds to weigh the pros and cons. His jaw tight, he keyed his mike.

  “Pegasus One, Chase One, this is Test Control. You have two minutes to possible system shutdown. We recommend you change course and drop down behind the Sierra Blancas. Use the mountains as a shield.”

  “Test Control, this is Chase One. We copy and are banking hard left.”

  “Roger, Chase One.”

  One of the dots on the tracking screen turned sharply. The other remained on a straight course. Westfall keyed his mike again.

  “Pegasus One, do you copy?”

  “Roger, Test Control. I’m initiating…”

  The transmission ended in a screech of static. Kate’s heart jumped straight to her throat as the lights in the control center flickered. Computers beeped. Displays went fuzzy.

  A second later, the entire facility went dark.

  Chapter 12

  Deep, impenetrable blackness surrounded Kate. There was no light, not so much as a glimmer of a shadow, to give depth or definition to the windowless operations center. She heard a thump. A curse. A terse order for everyone to remain still until the emergency generators powered up.

  Her heart measured each second with hard, excruciating thumps. After what seemed like a lifetime, a muted hum signaled that the backup generators were kicking in. Seconds later the lights blinked on.

  The scene inside Test Control could have been crafted for a wax museum. Lifelike figures were frozen in different poses, their faces registering shock, dismay, determination.

  Kate wrenched her gaze to the computerized tracking board. It was blank. Completely blank. Both aircraft had disappeared from the screen.

  “Oh, God!”

  Her agonized whisper seemed to break the spell. Suddenly everyone moved at once. Captain Westfall’s deep, gravelly command brought instant order to the chaos.

  “All right, people, listen up! Control, get on the radio and see if you can raise Pegasus and/or Chase One. The rest of you check your data terminals. I want to know if any of the computers aboard either aircraft are still transmitting.”

  Officers and civilians scrambled to power up their computers. Kate had no sooner toggled the key on her laptop than the loudspeaker in the control center crackled. She spun around, her heart in her throat, as the loudspeakers emitted a loud burst of static. A few seconds later, a voice broke through the noise.

  “…declaring an in-flight emergency. Do you copy, Test Control?”

  Kate’s nails gouged into her clenched fists. The voice wasn’t Dave’s. The transmission was coming from Chase One. Her momentary panic quickly gave way to a sharp, stabbing relief. If the C-130 was still in the air, there was a good chance Pegasus was, too.

  The pilot’s transmission was still echoing through the control center when Captain Westfall spun around and barked at the communications tech.

  “Can you raise them?”

  “No, sir. Not yet.”

  His jaw tight, Westfall could only listen with the others as the C-130 pilot tried to reach them again.

  “Test Control, this is Chase One. We’re transmitting on guard 121.5, using our backup battery.”

  Kate bit down hard on her lower lip. She’d spent enough time in the air to know 121.5 was a guarded frequency monitored around the clock by the FAA. It was always open, available for use by everyone from crop dusters to stealth aircraft in emergencies. The fact that the chase plane was transmitting via an open frequency told her instantly his secure communications had failed.

  In the next moment, Kate and the rest of the team knew that the 130’s comm wasn’t all that had failed.

  “Be advised we’re declaring an in-flight emer_gency,” Chase One repeated. “Our airspeed and altitude gauges are spinning like roulette wheels, the secure communications are fried, and we’re flying by the seat of our pants. We’re transmitting using our backup battery.”

  As Kate was all too aware, the backup battery contained only about thirty minutes of juice. The C-130 would have to go silent soon to conserve power for his landing.

  “We had the target on our left wing…”

  The transmission fuzzed, cut off for a moment, came back over the loudspeaker.

  “…so we overshot the vehicle. Last re ported sighting was at tango 6.2. I repeat, Control, tango 6.2.”

  Pegasus! He was referring to Pegasus. Kate’s gaze whipped to the wall map that divided the vast site into specific patrol areas. Tango 6.2 was to the southeast, where the mountains trailed off into desert.

  “This is Chase One, terminating transmission.”

  Kate chewed on her lip again until she tasted blood. A hundred unanswered questions thundered through her head. Had Dave made it to the mountains? Had the peaks shielded him, as they apparently had the C-130? Or had the chase aircraft overshot its target vehicle before Pegasus reached the granite peaks?

  That question, at least, was answered a long, agonizing twenty minutes later.

  The burst of solar energy fried communications towers and knocked out commercial radio, TV and cell phones in most of southern New Mexico. Buried cables were protected, although the switchers that routed calls took severe hits. Some calls went through. Others ended in static.

  Hardened military communications fared considerably better. Jill used her radio to direct her people to activate the site’s disaster-response plan. Within moments, each of the senior test-cadre members was supplied with a hand radio and could communicate with their counterparts in other agencies.

  After several frustrating tries, Kate managed to get through to the National Solar Observatory. She was taking a fix on the exact area affected by the burst when Jill came rushing back into the control center. Her face set in tight lines, the military cop relayed the news they’d all been dreading.

  “A local sheriff just notified the FAA of a possible downed aircraft. The air force picked up on the notification and relayed it to us. The craft was spotted going in just before the sky turned green.”

  Kate’s chest squeezed. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

  “The sheriff reports a column of black smoke rising from the approximate location,” Jill continued grimly.

  Captain Westfall clenched his fists. “Where?”

  “Sector tango 6.2, sir.”

  Since the energy burst had fried the instruments in the chopper assigned to the Pegasus site, the initial disaster-response team was forced to employ land vehicles. Kate’s duties didn’t call for her to be part of the team, but no one, Captain Westfall included, challenged her determination to join the convoy. She raced out of Test Operations to retrieve her sidearm and survival gear.

  Two paces outside, she skidded to a stunned halt. Jill was hard on her heels and almost ran over her.

  “Some show, isn’t it?”

  Swallowing, Kate took in the green and yellow waves undulating across the sky. Normally the scientist in Kate would thrill at such a unique display. At the moment, she could only curse herself for underestimating their potential severity.

  Sick over her miscall, she gathered her gear and ran to Rattlesnake Ops, where the convoy had already formed. Two Humvees, a wide-track fire-suppression unit, and specially modified all-terrain vehicles with machine guns mounted on the hood.

  “I’ll take the lead ATV,” Jill informed the hastily-assembled response team. Her blond hair was swept up under a Kevlar helmet. She wore a bullet-proof vest under her battle-dress uniform. Her sidearm was holstered on her belt, and she’d slung an assault rifle over one shoulder.

  “Our navigational and comm systems depend on satellite s
ignals,” she said tersely, “so we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way, using maps and compasses. Rattlesnake Four, you and your squad take the first Humvee. Doc, your medical response team have the second. Commander Hargrave, you’re with the medical team. Mount up.”

  Jill had worked a deal with the military cops up at Kirtland Air Force Base in Albuquerque to modify the Hummers’ engines. They’d required the increased speed to keep up with Pegasus during his land runs. Even with their modified engines, though, the vehicles couldn’t chew up the desert fast enough for Kate. It took the small convoy almost thirty minutes to reach the foothills of the Sierra Blancas, another twenty to hump through them to reach Tango Sector.

  Less than two hours had passed since they’d lost contact with Pegasus. Every minute of those hours was etched into Kate’s soul. She felt as though she’d aged a hundred years by the time the driver of her vehicle shouted to the passengers in the back.

  “We’re seeing a plume of black smoke dead ahead. It appears to be rising from a narrow gully.”

  Cody Richardson shouted back the question that burned in Kate’s throat. “Any sign of the vehicle or the pilot?”

  “Negative, sir. Major Bradshaw has just signaled to us to kick into overdrive. Hang on to the side straps, folks, it’s going to get bumpy.”

  Ten bone-rattling moments later, the Humvee jolted to a halt. Kate was almost snarling with impatience as she waited for the rear tailgate to let down and the others to pile out. Disregarding the hand Cody held out for her, she jumped out and hit the ground with a jar.

  Even before she raced around to the front of the Hummer she could smell the burning engine fuel. No one who’d ever survived a crash—or assisted at a crash site—could mistake that oily, searing stink. Her first glimpse of the dense black tower of smoke billowing into the sky sent her heart and her last faint hope plunging.

  “Oh, God!”

  The billowing cloud blurred. Hot tears burned Kate’s eyes. A scream rose in her throat, aching to rip loose.

  Shuddering, she fought it back. She had work to do. They all did. She swiped an arm across her eyes, swallowed the sobs that tore at her throat and reached a shaking hand into the pack containing a small, portable respirator and an oxygen pack. Anyone going within a hundred yards of that raging cloud of smoke would need both bottled air and protective clothing.

  The crash-recovery team was already dragging on their shiny silver protective gear. Suddenly, one of them jerked an arm toward the fire.

  “Isn’t that Captain Scott?”

  Kate spun around, terrified he was pointing to a charred, blackened body. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Dave scrambling down the side of the gully.

  “’Bout time you folks got here!”

  Keeping well clear of the smoke, he broke into a long-legged lope. Kate wasn’t as restrained. She dropped her gear bag and charged toward the gully full speed.

  The idiot was grinning!

  Grinning!

  That was the only thought she had time for before she plowed into him. He rocked back, steadied and wrapped his arms around her.

  The sobs Kate had forced down just moments ago ripped free. She couldn’t hold them back, any more than she could keep from gripping his flight suit with both fists, as if to make sure he didn’t disappear into that black cloud.

  “I thought you were dead!” she wailed against his chest.

  “It was touch-and-go there for a few minutes,” he admitted, his voice a deep rumble in her ear. “But I’m okay, babe. I’m okay.”

  She didn’t know whether it was his steady assurances, the knuckle that rubbed gentle circles on her spine or the abrupt arrival of the rest of the team that made her realize she had to get herself under control. Gulping, she pushed the sobs back down her raw throat and swiped her forearm across her eyes again. Dave kept one arm around her as the others peppered him with questions.

  “How did you get down?”

  “Did you have to bail?”

  “Have you sustained any injuries?”

  The last came from Cody Richardson, and Kate’s euphoria took a swift nosedive. He’d insisted he was okay, but in tough, macho pilot lingo, that could mean anything from scratch-free to protruding bones. She pulled away to take a closer look while Dave parried their questions with one of his own.

  “Did the C-130 crew land safely?”

  “As far as we know,” Jill informed him. “They declared an in-flight emergency and were flying by wire, but we’ve received no reports of a downed aircraft other than yours.”

  Dave let his breath whistle out. “Good. They were a couple of hundred feet above me when the sky lit up. I was afraid the mountains didn’t give them the same protection they did me.”

  “Some protection,” Jill murmured, her glance going to the burning funeral pyre.

  “That was a hell of a call on Captain Westfall’s part,” Dave commented, “sending us down behind the hills like that.”

  “Captain Westfall didn’t make that call,” Jill informed him. “Kate did.”

  “No kidding.” He squeezed her waist. “Thanks for saving my butt, Hargrave.”

  “To paraphrase a certain pilot I know, your butt is eminently savable, Scott. I’m just sorry I couldn’t save Pegasus, too.”

  “You did.”

  “Huh?”

  That less-than-intelligent response won her a quick grin.

  “I lost some instrumentation, but I managed to bring him down. He’s parked about a hundred yards down the gully.”

  Kate’s gaze whipped to the noxious black column. “But the fire… The smoke.”

  “My communications were fried. I didn’t have any way to signal my location, so I emptied some fuel from the vehicle, piled up brush and started my own personal bonfire. I figured someone would spot the smoke.”

  Kate couldn’t quite take it in. Dave had survived. So had Pegasus. They’d both come within a breath of having their wings permanently clipped, but both had survived.

  “Now what do you say we put out the fire,” he suggested briskly, “throw a security cordon around the craft until we can get it back to base, and make tracks. I didn’t have any lunch. I’m hungry.”

  Still in a daze, Kate shook her head. “He’s hungry,” she echoed to Jill. “He wants food.”

  “So feed him,” the cop replied with a grin. “Doc, one of my troops will drive you, Kate and Dave back to the site. I’ll stay with the craft until it’s secured.”

  Dave released her long enough to retrieve the gear bag he’d stashed well away from the fire before rejoining her at the Hummer. Kate ducked her head and prepared to scramble inside. He helped her with a firm hand under her elbow and a whispered promise that raised instant goose bumps.

  “Food isn’t all I’m hungry for, my very, very Kissable Kate.”

  Chapter 13

  It was long past midnight before full communications and power were restored at the base, Dave had finished debriefing his extraordinary flight, and Pegasus was once again bedded down in his gleaming white stall.

  Two days, Captain Westfall announced to his weary staff, before the maintenance crew could replace every circuit that had blown in the test vehicle.

  “That puts us behind the eight ball again on the sea trials. We’ll have to cut the water-test phase to the bone,” he instructed Cari. “I want you and Major McIver in my quarters at oh-seven-hundred with a restructured schedule.”

  Cari gulped. “Yes, sir.”

  “You can work here,” Westfall said. “We’ll clear the conference room and let you have it. The rest of you…” His glance roamed the circle of military and civilian personnel. “Get some rest. You’ll need it, because once we leave for the coast and begin water trials, the pace is going to pick up considerably.”

  Kate couldn’t imagine how! In the past two months, their tight-knit group had warded off an attack by a mysterious virus, lost one of their members to a heart attack and survived a megaburst of solar energy. Oh, yes
, they’d also proved Pegasus could run like the wind and fly with eagles.

  She muttered as much to Jill as the group dispersed. With a shake of her head, the site’s chief of security agreed the pace was plenty fast enough for her.

  “At least I’ll get a break when we move down to Corpus Christi. We’ll be operating out of a navy base, so they’ll have overall responsibility for security. All I’ll have to do is keep unauthorized visitors away from our little corner of the base.”

  “Wish I could look forward to a break. We’ll be arriving at Corpus smack in the middle of hurricane season. Cari might just get stuck swimming Pegasus through gale-force seas.”

  “If anyone can do it,” said a deep voice behind them, “Cari can.”

  Both women turned to find Doc Richardson waiting patiently for Jill to finish her conversation. Kate looked past him at the still-dispersing group.

  “If you’re looking for Dave,” the doc commented, “he said to tell you he had something he wanted to take care of and he’ll see you later.”

  “Later?”

  It was close to 2:00 a.m. Kate hadn’t slept more than an hour or two last night. Worry over that damned solar flare had kept her tossing and turning. That, and Dave’s challenge that she get back in the race.

  “Did he say how much later?”

  “No.” The doc’s cheeks creased in a grin. “But he did ask me to keep Jill occupied for an hour or two.”

  “And your reply was?” Jill wanted to know.

  “I told him I’m here to serve. Come with me, Major, and I’ll let you look through my microscope.”

  “The last time I did that, I ended up flat on my back. With a virus,” she tacked on dryly, but she didn’t protest when Cody steered her toward the dispensary.