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Max spotted Darcy, a dolphin fin circling ahead. Faster. Alarms jangled in his head. The clear lagoon waters showed more than the outline of a downed plane and Darcy dipping below the surface.
Dark figures, four at least, worked their way toward her. Some might have thought it nothing. Deep in his CIA seasoned gut, Max knew better.
Just like before. A woman had been targeted because of him. And this time he would die before letting history repeat itself.
* * *
Darcy plunged underwater, welcoming the roar of her breathing from the oxygen tank. She’d wanted a memorable farewell with Max Keagan. Well, she’d succeeded in spades.
Kicking her feet, she propelled herself deeper, farther away from him, her body still tingling with the lingering aftereffects of his touch. Her life had been so focused just a few short weeks ago. She’d known what she wanted. While she’d been frustrated by the obstacles and delays, she had no doubt that she could succeed in achieving her goals eventually. Never had she let anything stand in her way, not even her indomitable father.
For the first time in her life she was torn with indecision. And all because of one little kiss. Okay, and one really hot, long and insides-searing kiss. She was so confused. She wanted the underwater Max back.
But she wanted her plane and her independence and some closure to her past. And yes, she was scared spitless of a real relationship. Max might keep his distance with loner solitude, but she found hers through superficial, pal-style friendships.
Being with Max was never simple or superficial. The past hour on the sandbar proved that. His rejection, even a temporary one, hurt. Too much.
She propelled herself forward, drawn almost against her will toward the submerged Vietnam War era bomber. Barnacles encrusted rusting metal. Faded paint depicting a busty woman in a red bathing suit glimmered dimly along the side, rows of brown bombs painted to signify missions flown. Twenty-two before the plane went down. Had the crew perished with the plane?
Rainbow-colored fish streaked through the gaping cockpit window. Darcy startled back. Arms swirling beside her, she stared at the hulking metal, caught in a timeless bond with those who had gone before her. Those who would go after. And in that moment, she was a part of something bigger.
How odd to feel so very small and yet suddenly so much older at the same time. Her world focused in a way that had nothing to do with proving herself to crewdogs or to her father, and everything to do with living up to the legacy of a group of leather-clad aviators who had taken hits to their craft over a foreign ocean, far away from loved ones.
For loved ones.
In that mystic swirl of water, she felt the determination, the drive, the strength of will that powered countless men and women to give all for others. And she’d been focused only on herself. Her professional mission. Her personal needs. Selfishly, she’d focused only on her need to fight in Cantou, not what the Air Force needed from her.
Even worse, on the sandbar she’d thought only of her own disappointment, never once considering where Max might be coming from, given what he’d shared about his past. How ironic that in growing up a person realized how very far she still had left to go.
Rushing water swirled, caressing her skin. She needed to wake up. Diving alone wasn’t safe and who knew how far behind her Max would be.
A dolphin circled in front of her. Darcy squinted, searched the features. Then reminded herself Max’s dolphins were penned, although this one looked a bit like Lucy. The dolphin swam closer, closer still until she bumped Darcy with her snout.
Ouch. Apparently subtle wasn’t this one’s strong suit either. Darcy slowed, stopped.You want to play?
The dolphin moved closer, nudged again.
Not right now, if you don’t mind. I’m busy running from getting my heart tromped.
The sleek body shoved. Propelled Darcy forward.
Ouch!Her side tingled from the powerful push. Unease bubbled through her with as much force as the rushing current around her. The dolphin looked insistent. Even angry. Unease trickled down Darcy’s spine. There were few reports of dolphin attacks, but the mammals possessed the strength and speed to disable her in half a heartbeat.
A diver eased into view in the distance. Thank heaven. Max would know what to do.
The figure eased closer, clearer. Darker. No wild dive shorts screamed colors through the crystalline waters. Just an ominous black wet suit. The figure charged forward. Spear in hand leading the way. Followed by another diver. And another.
Unease roared into full-blown panic, certainty—vulnerability. Without her plane. Or even her 9mm.
She was under attack.
CHAPTERTEN
Fear twistedin Darcy’s gut, constricting her breathing faster than the dolphin swimming away. But she wouldn’t let panic conquer her. Forcing steady drags of air into her lungs, she backstroked behind the wing of the submerged plane. She needed time to strategize.
What was going on? And why?
Wasted thoughts at the moment. She had to concentrate on survival. Questions could come later. And, yes, she would have a later.
