And—if anyone had asked—she was kind of glad he was busting a move.
Then she noticed something else in the images.Both Con and the girl were gone, as if they’d never been there.
Chapter7
Con was bone weary but he still found it hard to sleep and not just because the cockpit was harder than the ground.Not that the ground was a real option.He didn’t need a scorpion or any other critter crawling up his pants during the night.
Tomorrow they’d need to head somewhere.Did he keep heading toward the silo that wasn’t there?Was that the right move?Would that tip off the opposition somehow?How easy or hard would it be to trace them?
There were always bread crumbs to follow.That is what Jack had said and what Con had observed while preparing for this mission.And the opposition had all of time to look for them.
All Joe had to do was mention the Pitts to someone when he was in town.
Con leaned against the fuselage and considered the problem.How would he look for them if he were the opposition?
He considered the problem as if it were his.Well, the plane was the first—and initially—the only clue.
He’d start with the plane and its range, assuming it was fully fueled when it left the farm.The wife could have told them that.
They could draw a circle, then narrow the range because of the limited number of landing places that could provide fuel.He’d taken those maps, but they’d be able to find them elsewhere.
And then what?Check out the landing strips?They’d need to tone down the men in black vibe.He couldn’t see someone like Joe taking to them.
So maybe they’d come at the problem from the side?Check in nearby towns?Yeah, he’d probably start that way, see if he could pick up some gossip on the Pitts.
It was the plane that would help mark their path.
And once they had a direction, they could create a different circle.Or a cone?The limited options for landing strips would help them narrow their search to some extent, though at each stop, they’d need to redraw their cone.
And while the men in black were tracking them, what should he and Rita do?
They couldn’t just fly around indefinitely.Those guys would have more resources than they had, and more time.They’d have all of time they needed to look for them.
The only way to get away from them was to jump back to the future.
Except…Rita.
He couldn’t take her with him.
But he couldn’t leave her here.
He frowned.Was she the bait to the trap that may or may not have been set for them?If not, if she were actually an alien and they were hunting her, where did that leave him?Had he upped their interest in her or was he just collateral damage?
If they could just talk to each other, tell the truth—but it wasn’t his secret to share, not really.He’d been sent here to observe and report.He’d managed the observe part just fine until it all went wrong.
Until he knew—truly knew—the opposition couldn’t track them back to the silo, he couldn’t afford to take Rita anywhere near it in any time, past, present or future.
So why did his gut still want to head that way?
He started to pace again, walking the length of the Pitts, then turning back the way he’d come.It was still dark, despite the stars, though the moon was starting to rise.He didn’t dare walk out too far though.He didn’t want to trip and face plant.That would be embarrassing.Or worse wander too far and get lost.
The door to the house opened, the light dazzling his eyes for a minute.He blinked and turned his head, waiting for his eyes to adjust or…
Joe stepped out and closed the door.
Great, it had been open just long enough to hose his night sight.
Con heard the man walking toward him as his eyes gradually readjusted.Joe extracted a pack of cigarettes, shook one halfway clear and held it toward Con.
