"Mr. McLean, we've established who you are. We understand you are trying to file an amended flight plan," the commander said. "Due to a situation in the area, I have to ask you to please instruct your pilot to land in Nassau. This is not negotiable."

"Something's going on." Dar shook her head. "Damn."

"Commander." Alastair gathered his thoughts. "I appreciate that you have your own issues," he said. "So let me ask you this. If we land in Nassau and your people are satisfied we're not going to hurt anyone, can we get cleared to fly into the States so your pit stop doesn't cause a delay in what we have to do?"

"Mr. McLean, you're not in a position to bargain with us."

Alastair sighed. "All right then, please put your ass in your chair and call the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Get Gerald Easton on the line," he said. "I'm about out of patience with you too. He was going to send a plane for us, damn well shoulda let him."

Silence on the radio.

"If they force us down," Dar said. "Chances are they're not going to let the plane take off again."

The pilot glanced over his shoulder at her. "We'll be out of air time anyway," he said. "No offense folks, but the storm would have been a better option."

"Agreed," Alastair held his hand up. "My fault. Sorry about that."

The radio remained silent.

"It's only about four, five hours from Miami by sea," Dar said. "We can charter a boat to get there."

The co pilot turned and looked at her. "Ma'am, are you crazy? That's not a trivial trip across the Gulfstream."

Dar didn't take offense. "I know," she said. "Been there, done that."

"I've been to the Bahamas. You won't get a captain to take you over like it is now. They're not stupid," the co pilot said. "They don't like risk."

"I'll captain it myself." Dar shrugged. "Pay enough money and they'll rent us a tub."

Both flyers looked at each other, then shook their heads. Alastair merely chuckled wryly.

Finally the radio buzzed. "Mr. McLean, this is Commander Wirkins."

"Go ahead," Alastair said. "At least we've got a plan B," he added, in an aside to Dar. "Though spending four hours bouncing over the Atlantic ain't my idea of fun."

"Mr. McLean, we're in a state of national emergency here and I do not appreciate, and my command does not appreciate you asking for special dispensation."

"Too bad," Alastair said, in a genial tone. "We have a job to do, mister, and you're keeping me from it. You may think it's got nothing to do with you, but if you do about ten minutes research on who we are, you'll catch a clue that's not the case."

The commander cleared his throat into the open mic. "I have done that research, or believe me, buddy there'd be two fighters up there blowing your ass out of the sky right now," he said. "So like I said, I don't appreciate you dropping names, no matter how justified you think you are."

Dar held her hand out. "Gimme."

"C"mon Dar." Alastair bumped her knee with his elbow. "He's about to cave. He's just pissing all over the wall so everyone knows what a big guy he is first." He clicked the mic. "Fish or cut bait, Commander."

"Well, Mr. McLean, sorry to tell you, but you're not getting to where you want to go today," the commander said, a note of smugness in his voice that made both Dar and Alastair's lips twitch. "You can call me an asshole if you want to, and report me to whoever you want to, but I've got a job to do too, and I'm going to do it."

"Shoulda given me the mic," Dar sighed. "At least we'd have gotten some laughs out of it."

"So my controller is going to instruct your pilot to land that plane at the Opa Locka airport, where we're going to have you met with a security team so that I can get my job done. I don't much care about yours."

"Whooho." Dar laughed. "Score!" She lifted her hand and Alastair smacked it with his own, surprising the crew.

"How you get your affairs in order after that isn't my concern," the commander said. "But it's a nice long drive to Texas. So have a great day."

"Well. How do you like that?" Alastair chuckled. "First time I had someone's sand up their ass work to my favor. "If that's what your decision is, Commander, then we'll have to take it," he said, mildly. "It sure is a long drive from there to Texas."

The radio clicked off with a snitty hiss, and Alastair handed the mic back to the navigator. "Well, gentlemen, after all that crap in a hand basket I think we ended up winning that round."

"You didn't want to go to Texas?" the co pilot half turned. "I don't get it."

"Well," Dar said. "Houston is where our main offices are, and where Alastair here lives," she said. "On the other hand, Miami is where our main operations center is, and where I live, and we both need to end up in Washington and New York so this guy just did us a big favor trying to screw us over."

"Yep." Alastair nodded. "Be sorry not to see the wife and the kids, but this cuts what, two days travel for you?" He nodded. "That cloud sure had a silver lining. Maybe by the time we sort things out we can get a flight up from your friend the General."

"Otherwise I'll go pick up my truck at the airport and we can drive," Dar said. "But that gives us a lot more options. You can even stay in the Miami office and run things if you want, while I head up."

Alastair nodded. "So, sirs, please do what the nice men want and land us in Miami." He chuckled. "Bea's gonna kill me after all the arrangements she had to make."

The pilot nodded in relief. "You got it," he said. "Get us out of the air faster, we don't have to fly around a storm, and if we're all still grounded I get a layover on South Beach. Doesn't get any better than that." He looked at his co pilot. "You up for that Jon?"

The co pilot shook his head and laughed. "I'm up for that," he said. "Man, I thought this was really going to end up like crap." He looked back at Alastair. "You sure have brass ones, sir."

The older man chuckled. "Live as long as I have, you learn to figure out how much you can poke the stick at the bear, if you get my drift. Once that fellah knew who we--" He indicated Dar and himself, "were, I figured he knew better than to be serious about shooting us down."

"I don't know. He sounded pretty aggressive," the co pilot said. "We've heard from other pilots that the attitude is they've got carte blanche to do whatever they want in the name of national security."

"Someone still has to be accountable," Dar said.

"Do they?" the co pilot asked. "I sure hope they do. I've been on the wrong side of an INS officer in a bad mood. Almost cost me a paid flight."

The pilot half turned in his seat and addressed the navigator. "Egar, you okay with us landing there? I forgot to ask you."

The tall, slim man nodded. "I have family in Miami," he said. "I am very happy we're going there. It's good." He smiled. "I achieved my pilot's license at that airport. It's very nice."

Alastair stood up and waited for Dar to clear out of the way so he could exit the cockpit. "What a relief. No offense to your boating skills, Paladar, but I'm no yachtsman." He slapped Dar on the shoulder as they retreated back down the aisle to the passenger compartment. "Besides, fella was probably right. We'd have to end up buying the damn boat and then what? Be tough to explain a motor yacht on our inventory list."

Dar chuckled. "We could have auctioned it off." She was, however relieved. Much as she would have stepped up to sail an unfamiliar craft across what were sometimes very treacherous waters, she was damned glad she wasn't going to have that particular bluff called.

Silver lining. Absolutely. "We lucked out."

"Sure did," her boss agreed. "Well, sometimes we have to, y'know?" he added, as they resumed their seats. "Wish it hadn't gotten so nasty, though. I know the fella has a lot of issues he's contending with but my god."

Dar pushed her seat back. "They teach you to do that," she said. "Be a bastard, I mean. You try to overwhelm whoever your opponent is with loud, aggressive talk to knock them off balance and put them on the defensive."

"They teach you that in the military?" Alastair asked, in a quizzical tone. "I thought you never went through that."

"They teach you that in most of the negotiating and ninja management classes these days," Dar informed him dryly. "But a friend of ours, who's a cop in Miami, says taking the offensive when you're confronting someone is a well used tactic of theirs too."

"You use that, yourself," her boss commented.

"Sometimes," Dar admitted. "If someone knows you're going to be an asshole, they usually do what you want, faster. Like our vendors. They know if they don't do what I'm asking, I'll just keep going up their ladder and get louder and louder until they do."

"Like what I just did to that fellah."

Dar nodded. "That's why they like dealing with Kerry better." Her eyes twinkled a little. "She's got the best of both worlds. She gets to be nice, and they like her, and she's got me in her back pocket to threaten them with."

Alastair laughed. "Well, all in all, I guess I can forgive that guy. I know he must be dealing with a thousand different problems. I was just his most annoying one that minute." He folded his hands over his stomach. "He must be laughing his head off thinking about how he showed us though."

Dar suspected he was. Probably cursing about them, and telling everyone around him how he showed these damn jerks who was boss. Dar couldn't really blame him either, since they had asked for special treatment, and had threatened him with going up the chain, and in fact, were the jerky pain in the asses he actually considered them to be.