Alastair held a hand up. "Hold on there, son. We're not looking for trouble either. We work for a company with a lot of government contracts, and it's possible they'd make an exception because there are issues they're looking to us to solve. Chances are when they put our names into their system..."

"Which I wrote," Dar commented, in a mild tone, peering back at her boss when he looked at her in surprise. "That was before I got a life," she clarified, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I had more time back then."

Alastair scratched the back of his neck, and shook his head. "Anyway, when they call us up, they might say something about it."

The steward didn't look reassured. "Well, I'll let the captain handle all that," he said. "Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?"

"Got any ice cream?" Dar inquired.

"Ah, yes. I think we do." The steward nodded. "Sir?" He turned to Alastair. "Would you like some as well?"

Alastair reseated himself. "Not for me, thanks." He lifted a hand. "I'll take a glass of cognac though."

"Very good, sir, I'll be right back." The steward disappeared again behind the service door, leaving them in solitude.

Dar fell backwards into her seat, sprawling sideways across the chair with her legs over one arm and her head resting on the other. She studied the ceiling of the airplane and wished the time would just go damned faster. "Hope they don't give them trouble."

"Got a lot of scared folks down there," Alastair said. "Did you really write that system?"

"Uh huh," she said. "It's just a flexible relational database with a custom index. Not that big a deal," she said. "The biggest pain in the ass was writing the API they wanted so they could connect it up to other government systems and exchange data."

"Mm. What other systems did they hook up to?"

"None." Dar crossed her ankles. "That's why it was a pain in the ass. I wrote it so it was a standard data exchange interface, and every other god damned system in the government was a) different, and b) proprietary, so no one could talk to them anyway."

"Oh, for Pete's sake," he said. "So what do they do?"

"Export to a flat file and re-import." Dar folded her hands across her stomach. "Know how long that takes?"

"Especially in a situation like this? Too long." Alastair shook his head. "We should do something about that." He took out his PDA. "I'll have Ivan work up a white paper to pass around after this is settled down a little."

Dar considered that as she waited for the steward to return with her much needed dessert. "Wonder what's going on in Herndon?" she asked. "Hope they're not giving Kerry too hard a time. "

Alastair gave her a wry look, which she missed. "I'm sure she can handle it."

"I'm sure she can too. It's just that people try to take advantage of her because she's not a big mean looking macho dude," Dar said. "Then she has to kick them in the ass a few times before she gets their respect and frankly, that sucks."

The steward slipped back in with a tray. "The captain will be coming back to speak with you both in a few minutes. We've got some additional questions from the U.S. government." He moved forward, pausing as Dar shifted her position to a more normal one and swung her tray out in place. "Right now, they aren't clearing us to fly south of Florida."

"I thought they only control their local airspace?" Dar asked. "How in the hell can they stop someone from flying to Central America?"

The steward put a bowl down on her tray. "Ma'am, I don't' know. You can ask the captain." He turned and put Alastair's snifter down, filled halfway with a clear golden liquid. "Right now, we're considering just withdrawing the request and continuing on our original flight plan, which was approved. It will be a rough ride, but at least we'll get there."

Alastair sighed, and picked up the glass. "Well." He swirled it. "Sorry if it caused a hassle. If that's what we need to do, then we do. Got any seasick pills? I don't tolerate turbulence well and I'd hate to hand you back your nice dinner."

"We can provide some, of course," the steward looked relieved. "Ma'am, I can get you some as well."

Dar waved her hand no as she was busy with a mouthful of ice cream.

"Captain Roberts sails the bounding main on a regular basis," Alastair chuckled. "I don't think she needs any help."

The door opened again and the captain stuck his head in. "Folks, we've got trouble," he said seriously. "I'm being instructed to land in Nassau. The U.S. military are grounding us for inspection."

Dar licked off her spoon. "What?"

"That's crazy." Alastair put his glass down and got up. "C'mon, son. Let me go talk to these people." He headed for the door to the service area. "I'll throw some names around. We'll get it sorted out."

"Sir I--" The pilot had to either back out of the way, or get hit by Alastair's forward motion, and he chose the better part of valor and moved. "We can see if they'll talk to you, but they were pretty explicit."

"I'll be explicit, too." Alastair shooed him toward the cockpit. He glanced back at Dar. "Now let me see if I can go earn my paycheck."

Dar shook her head. "Crazy."

"I hope the gentleman knows what he's doing," the steward said, unhappily. "I heard those people on the other end, and I don't think they're going to appreciate someone questioning them." He looked at Dar. "This is very intimidating."

Dar found herself caught in the dilemma of both being concerned about the situation, and guiltily happy about the possibility of being on the ground with the ability to get hold of Kerry. "I'm sure it'll work out," she told the man. "It's probably just a misunderstanding."

"I sure hope so," the steward muttered. "I knew I should have called in sick today."

KERRY WAS GLAD enough to bypass the stately main entrance to their Herndon office and use the staff door instead. There were two big, black, ominous looking SUVs parked near the front and she wanted a few minutes to get herself settled before she had to interact with the people who'd come in them.

"This way." Nan led her through the door pausing to scan her badge, then her handprint at the glass double door inside. "Wait for me to go through, then scan. It should validate you." She waited, nodding her head a little bit as the system pondered for a while then clicked and turned green. "Eventually."

"Guess we'll find out." Kerry waited for the door to close behind her guide before she removed her badge from her lapel and held it against the sensor, then presented her palm on the glass plate when it glowed.

It turned green instantly and the door opened. Kerry's brow twitched a little, but she pushed the door open and let it close, then opened the inner door which clicked when the outer locked. She rejoined Nan and glanced around, finding the sedate gray and maroon interior weirdly familiar. "I see we had the same interior decorators."

Nan chuckled. "You mean here and Miami?" she asked. "Is it the same?"

"Pretty much." Kerry followed her down a long hallway inset with cherry wood doors. It was thickly carpeted and quiet, despite all the unsettled chaos. "I'll need a workspace," she said. "But I'd like to stop in at Operations first."

"Right." Nan nodded. "Bob Willingsly is getting an office set up for you. He said it would be about five more minutes." She indicated a large security door just ahead in the corridor. "That's ops." She stood back to let Kerry pass her. "I'm not credentialed for that."

Kerry gave her a brief smile. "Well, thanks. I appreciate the ride, and the tour," she said. "I'll be back shortly. I want to check things out." She went over to the door and pressed her badge against the sensor, then offered her palm to the reader. The door clicked without hesitation, and she pushed it open.

"Hey, Ms. Stuart?" Nan called after her. "You do something special to your badge to get it to clear that fast? We'd love to copy whatever it is. Takes ours forever."

Kerry glanced back. "I know the designer," she admitted. "I'll see what I can do." She entered the ops center and let the door close behind her, turning to face the operations staff who were standing as they spotted her. "Morning guys."

The operations center, like the one in Miami, was a half circle of admin stations behind a heavy desk spaced with chairs on the inside curve. Unlike the one she was familiar with though, behind the console there was a big, intimidating plate glass double wall separating the operators from the data center equipment they managed.

"Ms. Stuart!" A man hurried forward, extending his hand. "Dave Draper. We've talked many times."

"We have." Kerry smiled at him. "It's good to meet you, Dave, but I wish it wasn't for this reason," she said. "I hear we have visitors already."

"Sure do," Dave said. He was a man in his mid forties, with thinning dark hair and a square jaw. "We're real glad you're here. Those folks are getting pretty mean," he told her. "My boss, Ken, is with them, but I know he'll be glad to see you too."

"I bet." Kerry put her briefcase down on a nearby chair. "Okay, before I go mess with them give me the five cent and bring me up to speed on what the status is."

"Sure." Dave turned and faced the room. The console operators were all busy at their desks, but each had turned their chair just a bit so they could watch what was going on.

Kerry could see the global meeting place screen on their monitors, split with various console ops applications that monitored the traffic and data that ran through the center.