A Question of Intent Read online

  With another whir, the engines tilted upward. That position, Jill knew, would give the craft its hover capability. As captivated now as the rest of the cadre, Jill kept her eyes glued to the vehicle as its engines tipped back to a horizontal position. Contractor personnel wheeled support stands under the pod's nose and tail, then the pilot retracted the wheels. Pegasus settled gently onto the stand and took on the appearance of a giant-size speedboat with twin propellers just aching to find deep water.

  "Oh, man," Caroline Dunn murmured to no one in particular. "That baby looks like it will slice right through heavy seas."

  When the wheels lowered again, Jill was itching to climb inside and see how the thing steered on ground. First, though, Captain Westfall and the contractor's rep had to make the official transfer of test responsibilities. Military photographers were on hand to record the transfer, but no photos would appear in the press. Like the Stealth bomber, this program was being developed "in the black." It was Jill's job to make sure that the bad guys didn't find out about Pegasus until he galloped into their midst or swooped down on them from the sky.

  The simple transfer ceremony concluded with a handshake and a flash of camera lights.

  "Pegasus is all yours, Captain."

  The contractor personnel would stick around to contribute their expertise during the next phase of testing, but Westfall would call the shots from here on out. His first act was to lay a callused hand on the white-painted hull, as if letting a skittish stallion get used to his scent and his touch. His second was to order the maintenance crews to paint the test cadre's shield on the tail fin, just above the X-2.

  "Let's head for the briefing room," he told his officers. "I want everyone to brand the test parameters on their brains before we start putting Pegasus through his paces."

  The next few days sped by in a whirl of around-the-clock activities. With Pegasus now on station, the already tight security ratcheted up another few notches. No one went in or out of the compound without a thorough shakedown at each checkpoint, and every tripped sensor triggered a full-out response.

  Jill saw little of her roommates during those first, hectic days. Even less of Doc Richardson. Good thing, since she hadn't been able to shake the lingering memory of those moments in the moonlight. Or answer the questions about the man that still hovered in her mind.

  A cop down to her boot heels, Jill had done some digging into Ditech, the company Richardson used to work for. Odd that he still drove a vehicle leased by Ditech. Odd, too, that he still retained a seat on the company's board of directors. That smacked of conflict of interest in her book.

  She didn't get a chance to quiz him on the matter until some days later, when she took her dinner tray over to the group clustered at one of the tables in the dining hall.

  "Hey, roomie." Kate Hargrave scooted her chair over a few inches to make room at the long table. "Cari and I are beginning to think you're part vampire. We rarely see her in daylight," she explained to the others.

  "That's because you spend all your waking hours in the hangar testing the weather data fed into Pegasus's computers," Jill replied. "You'll see more of me when he slips his halter and gallops across the range. My troops and I will be galloping right alongside of him."

  "Assuming you can keep up."

  No way Jill was letting that million-dollar vehicle streak off across the desert without escort. "We'll keep up."

  Smiling, Cari forked some of her vegetable lasa-gna and entered the debate. "That might be tricky. The run-ups on the tests stands have been impressive. If Pegasus performs out on the desert as well as he did on the stands, he'll leave everyone in the dust."

  "We should make this a real horse race," Kate suggested, her green eyes gleaming. "Place a few side bets. Jill and her troops against Pegasus."

  "I'm in," one of the others at the table said with a grin.

  "Me, too."

  "What are the stakes?"

  Major Russ McIver's coffee mug hit the table with a thump. "This isn't a game, folks."

  "No one said it was," Cari replied in her calm way. "We're just trying to lighten things up a bit."

  Her answer didn't sit well with the stiff-shouldered marine. "I'll lighten up when we've accomplished our mission. Until then, let's remember why we're here—which is not to run horse races."

  Since Jill had uttered essentially the same sentiment to Cody Richardson just a few days ago, she could hardly disagree. Yet she found herself hiding a grin when the Coast Guard officer cocked her head. Jill had spent enough time now with her sister officers to get a good feel for why Caroline Dunn had been selected to command a heavily armed patrol boat. Despite her petite stature and quiet air, the woman took no prisoners.

  Sure enough, the brunette leaned forward and gave the marine a polite smile. "I don't need reminding why I'm here. None of us do. You, however, need to remove that burr from your behind before it becomes so firmly lodged Doc Richardson has to perform a surgical extraction."

  McIver's hazel eyes went agate hard, but before he could respond, a tall, dark-haired figure in khaki joined their small group.

  "Was that my name I just heard mentioned?"

  "It was," Cari replied.

  "Who needs what extracted?"

  "At the moment, no one, but we'll have to watch the situation closely and see how it develops." Pushing back her chair, she gathered her tray. "Here, you can have my seat. I'm done."

  McIver's chair scraped the wooden flooring. He, too, collected his tray. "You and I need to talk, Lieutenant. Let's take this outside."

  Unconcerned, Cari wove a path through the tables. McIver followed hard on her heels. The doc stood watching them for a moment, then slid his tray onto the table and took the seat the Coast Guard officer had just vacated.

  "What was that all about?"

  "Just a little group dynamics in the works," Kate replied, her eyes alight. "Forget the horse race, gang. I'm putting my money on Lieutenant Dunn."

  The conversation shifted back to the topic that consumed them all, which was Pegasus's first run. Jill savored her surprisingly delicious lasagna—she wasn't usually into vegetables—and listened to the various prognostications for success.

  "Everything depends on the last round of diagnostics," Kate confirmed, checking her watch. "Dr. Santos, King of the Black Boxes, is supposed to run them this afternoon."

  "I just left him," Cody commented. "He's set the final test for fourteen-thirty."

  "Yikes!" Kate jumped up and grabbed her tray. '"Scuse me, folks. I want to go over the wind and air-temperature variables we plugged into the test program one more time."

  Her departure started a general exodus, until only Jill and the doc remained at their end of the long table.

  She refused to let her gaze linger on the crisp black hair curling just above the crewneck of his T-shirt. Or the strong, blunt-fingered hand holding his fork. Digging her own fork into her last bite of cheesy noodles, she downed the succulent morsel and was trying to think of a subtle way to introduce the leased Lincoln into the conversation when the doc took the lead.

  "About the other night..."

  "Yes?"

  "Laying that kiss on you was way out of line. You were right. It can't happen again."

  "I'm glad you agree."

  She was. Really.

  Still, it was one thing for her to put the skids on things. Another for the man to agree so adamantly they needed putting. Annoyed by a ridiculous little dart of pique, Jill shifted gears.

  "Maybe you can clear up something that's been bothering me."

  "What's that?"

  "Your vehicle. It's still registered to Ditech."

  He shot her a quick glance. "You ran the tags?"

  "I did," she confirmed without a flicker of apology. "The first night, when I thought the vehicle had been abandoned out on the desert."

  "And the fact that it's registered to Ditech bothers you?"

  "You said you walked away from the corporation to join the Public
Health Service. I would have thought you'd walk away from the company perks, too."

  Carefully Cody laid down his fork. "I resigned my position as head of Ditech's research department, but I still sit on their board of directors."

  "Isn't that a conflict of interest?"

  "No."

  Cody had left the company, but he hadn't wanted to remove the clout that having someone with his credentials on the board provided. He'd owed Alicia and her father that much, at least.

  Not that Jack Conway appreciated the gesture. Like his daughter, he refused to believe Cody didn't want the money, prestige or perks. George had never understood any act that wasn't driven by a profit motive.

  From all appearances, Jill Bradshaw was having trouble understanding Cody's motives, as well. Leaning back in her chair, she studied him through a screen of thick, sun-tipped lashes.

  "Let me make sure I've got this straight," she said slowly. "The Public Health Service works for the U.S. surgeon general, who works for the secretary of health and human services, who in turn directs the Food and Drug Administration, which tests and approves the drugs Ditech produces. Yet you don't see that as a conflict of interest?"

  "Neither do my bosses at PHS."

  "Why not?"

  "One, I put my Ditech stock in a blind trust. Two, I included the full details of my board position when I filled out my financial disclosure statement. Three, I've been careful to remove myself from any issues or projects involving the corporation during my tenure with the Public Health Service."

  "Hmmm. Just out of curiosity, Doc, who's the subcontractor for the nuclear, biological and chemical defense suite installed in Pegasus?"

  She already knew the answer. Cody sensed it from the too-casual way she asked the question.

  "Why don't you tell me?" he countered, his eyes narrowing.

  "All right, I will. My research indicated it was a company called BioCorp, which underbid all its competitors for the Pegasus contract."

  "Did your research also indicate Ditech was one of the competitors?"

  "As a matter of fact, it did."

  She leaned forward, not pulling any punches.

  "The contract for the NBC defense suite for the three prototypes ran to well over a million dollars. If Pegasus proves its capabilities and goes into full production, we're talking hundreds of millions more."

  Fury swept through Cody's veins, swift and icy. "What are you suggesting, Major? That I wormed my way into the Pegasus test cadre so I could invalidate BioCorp's system and give Ditech another chance to bid the contract?"

  "I'm not suggesting anything."

  Yet.

  The unspoken caveat hung between them, as heavy as an unsheathed scimitar and twice as lethal. Cody almost felt the damned thing hovering over his head, a breath away from his neck.

  Christ! So much for thinking he and Jill had sparked a small flame the other night. Or that it needed dousing. Obviously, the heat had all been on his side.

  That shouldn't put such a kink in his gut. Nor should the major's probing questions. She was only doing her job. He knew that, accepted it. Yet couldn't shake his anger. Shoving back his chair, he picked up his tray.

  "Look, Major, you attend to the security for this project..."

  "I will," she said evenly.

  "...and I'll attend to the NBC suite."

  He fully intended to exit on that note, but an urgent call swung him around.

  "Doc!"

  One of Cody's corpsmen shoved through the door to the dining hall and forged a path through the troops still finishing their lunch.

  "We need you at the clinic ASAP."

  Cody dumped his tray back on the table. "What's the problem?"

  "We've got a patient who presented with dizziness, severe headache and aching muscles. His temperature's off the charts."

  "Sounds like the flu. Who's the patient?"

  "A civilian. Dr. Santos. He's one of the test engineers."

  "Hell! Santos was fine when I left him a while ago."

  "He's not fine now. He says it hit him all of a sudden. Came on with the force of a sledgehammer. He could barely stagger into the clinic."

  Jill felt her own stomach knot as Cody joined the medic and hurried out of the dining hall. Dr. Ed Santos wasn't just "one" of the test engineers. He was the senior test engineer for the entire project. If he went down sick, the test schedule could well take a hit.

  Less than a week into the project and it was sounding as though Pegasus might have hit its first major snag.

  ♥ Scanned by Coral ♥

  Chapter 6

  Dr. Santos did go down sick, and the Pegasus test schedule did take a hit.

  Word from the clinic was that Ed Santos had picked up what looked like a particularly virulent bug. His temperature continued to spike at dangerously high levels throughout that day and into the evening. Doc Richardson sent blood and urine samples by chopper to the lab at the Kirtland AFB Hospital for testing.

  Ed's backup scrambled to cover both his and Santos's responsibilities, but the final diagnostic run didn't take place until the following day. Concern for the genial test engineer tempered the team's satisfaction with the excellent results. Like a highstrung stallion held in check at the end of a leading rein, Pegasus was put through his gaits via black boxes, and all systems were checked.

  Ed's fever finally broke late that evening. The officers assigned to the cadre held an impromptu celebration to celebrate the good news about Ed and the success of the diagnostic run-up. After a week of living almost in each other's pockets, they were beginning to bond into a tight, cohesive unit. Even Russ McIver, their resident stiff-necked marine, unbent enough to join the group congregated at the picnic tables located between the trailers.

  Kate provided the pretzels, tortilla chips and salsa from her seemingly bottomless supply of goodies. Bill Thompson, the Air Force rep, brought the beer. Cari and Jill raided the dining hall for soft drinks and a garbage sack of ice.

  Captain Westfall surprised everyone by showing up in gray jersey jogging shorts and a T-shirt with U.S. Navy emblazoned across the front in gold letters. As best Jill could recall, this was the first time the tall, spare officer had exited his quarters wearing something other than his uniform.

  When he appeared in their midst, the small group of officers jostled knees and elbows to jump to attention. Westfall waved them back to their seats.

  "As you were. We're off duty until morning."

  Only until morning, when Pegasus would finally slip his leash and take his first gallop across the desert.

  "I just visited Ed Santos," Westfall told the group. "He's looking a whole lot better than he was last time I saw him."

  "Any idea what hit him?" Bill Thompson asked.

  "The doc still thinks it was some kind of virus, although he won't know for sure until he hears from the lab up at Kirtland."

  "Speaking of the doc," Kate said with a nod toward the clinic, "looks like he's finally going off duty, too."

  Jill shifted her glance to the khaki-clad figure making his way toward them through the hot August dusk. The sudden trip to her pulse annoyed the heck out of her. She should be used to Cody Richardson's chest-squeezing, rib-knocking impact by now. And she shouldn't be surprised that his gaze traveled over the group and stopped dead on her.

  His expression held none of the anger it had yesterday, when she'd challenged him on his ties to Di-tech. Nor did his eyes hold any hint of warmth. They were neutral. Completely neutral.

  That was fine with Jill. She couldn't afford to mix business with pleasure any more than the doc could. Which didn't explain why her mind noted completely irrelevant details like the small ducktail in his black hair when he dragged off his hat.

  "Here, Cody," Kate said. "We'll scrunch up and make room for you."

  "I'm fine standing. I'll just grab a beer."

  "There's plenty of room."

  Hips bumping, Kate nudged Bill Thompson to the far end of the bench. Jill had no cho
ice but to move along with Kate. Cody settled beside her, careful not to make contact, and tipped his beer.

  Jill shut her mind to his nearness and listened as the group got down and dirty with the technical details of tomorrow's run. Above them, the New Mexico sky slowly darkened with towering purple clouds that glowed bright neon pink on the bottom. A slash of lightning forked down from one dark pillar and stopped the conversation cold. A rattle of thunder followed some seconds later.

  "What's the forecast for the next twenty-four hours?" the captain asked Kate when the echo died. She'd briefed him and the rest of the cadre earlier, but he wanted assurance the clouds piling up like stacks of dirty laundry would pass as predicted.

  "I checked again right before I came outside. Thunderstorms in the area until midnight. Clear skies tomorrow."

  Westfall nodded, relaxing.

  "Actually, I think we're about to experience one of New Mexico's dry storms," Kate said with an eye to the rapidly approaching clouds. "The air is so parched and hot, the rain will evaporate before it hits the ground."

  Her prediction proved correct, but the absence of raindrops splattering against the dirt didn't lessen the storm's spectacular fury. Within moments the sky off to the west was bursting with pyrotechnics, thunder boomed like an artillery fusillade, and wind began to whip up the sand.

  "Time to move things inside," Kate said, flipping the plastic lid on the salsa. "Someone grab the beer and chips."

  Hands reached for the bags and cans while Kate beat a hasty retreat to the women's quarters. The others followed, but Jill waylaid Captain Westfall before he joined the rest.

  "Can I talk to you a minute, sir?"

  "Sure."

  She threw a glance at the departing group and waited until Cody's broad shoulders disappeared inside the mobile unit with the others.

  "It's about Doc Richardson," she said, turning back to the captain. "Do you know he once worked for Ditech Corporation?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "And that he still sits on their board of directors?"

  "Yes, again. Richardson included the information in his financial disclosure statement."