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Maddy looked nervously toward the pilots. She saw a few heads nodding.
The captain spoke up again.
“That’s right. And when they attack again you can be guaranteed we will be hammering the demons from every angle, with our fighter jets in the air and with missiles and artillery from the ships. My boys want revenge,” the captain said. “We only made a few dents the first time around, but at least we slowed the bastards down a little bit.”
“That’s what we’ll need. There’s going to be too many demons for us to take them all on at once,” Jacks said. “But if you can keep them off balance and slowed down, we can come in range and strike gradually. And we’ve got this on our side.” Jackson drew his sword and held it in front of the captain and pilots. “It looks old-fashioned, but it’s the only thing that can put fear in the heart of a Dark Angel.”
In a flash, Mitch pulled his sword out, too. He smiled at the navy officers gaping at the blade. “Mine’s almost crying out for demon blood, it’s been so long. I think my great-great-great-great-uncle was the last to get to use it. It’s about time a Steeples Guardian got to cut into some Dark Angels.”
“With Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Godright helping out on the preparation side, we can coordinate our defense,” Captain Blake said.
Maddy allowed herself a small internal smile, glancing over at Jacks, and as if Blake’s words were a rehearsed cue, she stepped up to the luminous green screens displaying the radar position of all the ships and carriers in their battle group, along with the location and size of the sinkhole.
“The demons are ten miles away from us,” she said. “I can’t guarantee how much time I can give you—these demons are doing everything they can to block my vision. But I can give you some time, enough to coordinate our strike with the Battle Angels. You’re going to need to cooperate as much as possible if we want this to work.”
Maddy pointedly looked first at Tom, then at Jacks. The pilots and Angels looked at each other and nodded.
“This briefing is over,” Captain Blake said. “Go get some chow and some rest. Boys, you show the Angels where the mess is and start introducing each other. You’re going to be relying on one another soon enough.”
Slowly, cautiously, the Angels and the pilots began talking to each other, shaking hands, speaking quietly as they left the briefing. The captain had ordered them to, and an order’s an order.
Only Tom and Jackson stayed at a sizable distance. They eyed each other from across the room.
Sighing deeply, Maddy slipped away down the side stairs from the briefing room, away from them both.
• • •
Maddy was in her cabin later when she heard a light rapping on the door.
“Come in,” she said warily.
It was Tom. He opened the door slowly, and she met his gaze with a look of soft disappointment.
“I’m sorry,” Tom said, putting on his best puppy-dog face. “It’s just that after all we’ve been through—we humans, I mean. And after what he put you through. Then he just shows up here like nothing happened. You know how I can get, Maddy.”
“Jackson being here doesn’t change anything between us, Tom,” Maddy said. “And you’re kind of being a jerk.”
Tom sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . difficult for me. Do you want to take a walk and get some air?” Tom asked. “I promise I’ll be good,” he tried to joke. He put his hand out and reached for hers. She let him grasp her pinkie and ring finger as they walked up to the deck.
The fresh air felt good in her lungs. Crisp and clarifying. They looked out at the ocean for a while, not saying anything.
“You know,” Tom said, “I can’t tell you how many sunsets I’ve seen here on the deck of the carrier. Looking out to wherever we may be at the time. Thinking if maybe someone out there was looking back at me. Someone special.”
Tom reached over and squeezed her hand and smiled. “Wh
o knew it was going to be an Angel who ended up here with me?” He paused and his smile turned a little slyer. “I mean, of course, being an Angel, she was spoiled and high maintenance and all that. . . .”
Maddy mock-pushed him, laughing. “I could have you court-martialed, you know.”
“As long as they lock us in the brig together, I’m fine with that,” Tom responded with another laugh.
Silence fell over them again as the expansive orange-black sunset filled the horizon behind them as they stood on the deck of the carrier. They let the evening wind whip them. Maddy had her oversize navy-issued crewneck sweatshirt on, and Tom wore his trademark leather jacket even though he wasn’t supposed to wear it on deck.
Suddenly, Maddy saw a familiar figure, silhouetted against the last of the sunset, walking on the deck, heading straight toward them.
“Oh no . . . ,” she said.
Maddy could see the muscles tensing in Tom’s face as Jacks approached. He reached them, stopping a little too close to Tom for Maddy’s comfort.
