Kerry leaned against the wall. "Where are you?" She was glad the hall was empty. "Are you in the air?"

"Nope," Dar said. "Just landed in Miami."

Another surge of prickling across her skin. "Miami?" Kerry squealed. "Are you kidding me? You're really home? What happened to Mexico? They let you land? Did you call Gerry?"

"Long story," Dar said. "Bottom line is, we just landed at Opa Locka. I figure we've got some explaining to do to the local officials then they should let us out of here."

"Explaining?"

"Like I said, long story," Dar replied, in a wry tone. "I'm just glad to be on the ground."

Kerry felt unexpected tears stinging her eyes. "I'm glad too," she said, lowering her voice. "I feel like fifty pounds just came off my shoulders. I was worried about you."

"Back at you," her partner said. "Where are you?"

"Pentagon." Kerry sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"Bad?"

"Yeah."

"What do you need me to do?"

Kerry sighed. "Where do I start?" She tried to put her thoughts in order, squirming through the emotion with some difficulty. "Can you lean on Justin and get us gear?" she asked. "I'm trying to deal with facilities here."

"You got it," Dar said. "I know what was in that room. I'll get it out there."

"The black box thing--that was just a foul up. They were looking for something we didn't have," Kerry said. "I sent them to the Tier one's."

"Good girl."

"I want to squeeze you so hard your eyeballs pop out."

Dar started chuckling.

"I'm not kidding."

"I know. I wish I could have wangled them into letting us land in Dulles. Hang in there, hon," Dar said. "We're getting surrounded by tin soldiers. I have to go be me. I'll call you back once I'm getting a café con leche with Alastair, and we figure out the next twenty minutes of the plan."

"Okay." Kerry relaxed against the wall, smiling whole heartedly. "Love you."

"Love you too."

Kerry closed the phone, letting out a long, heartfelt sigh. Then she clipped the phone to her belt, squared her shoulders, and headed for the CO's office. "Let's hope my lucky streak keeps hauling its ass right on down the road." She pushed the door open. "But it's going to be hard as hell to beat that."

DAR GOT UP and clipped her phone onto her front pocket, stripping off the pullover she'd worn and leaving herself in just a T-shirt. She folded the pullover and tucked it into her briefcase, as Alastair closed his own phone and sighed. "Bea pissed?"

"Relieved, actually." Alastair pulled his own briefcase over and started to gather his things. "She said at least she knows my landing here means I probably won't be dancing on some table with a bottle of tequila."

Dar paused, and glanced over her shoulder. "We could arrange for that if you really wanted to."

"Ha hah," he said. "Bea seems to think you'd be a good influence. I don't think we have any pictures in the archives of you with a flowerpot on your head."

"I'm sure you don't."

Alastair chuckled. "How's Kerry?" He watched Dar's face crease into a brief grin. "She doing all right?"

"Yeah," Dar said. "She's at the Pentagon. She needs me to take care of some things but we'd better wait to get off this tub."

"Waiting till then to call the wife, myself," her boss said. "I can hang up on Bea and not get in too much trouble."

Dar chuckled.

The steward came in and went over to the door to the cabin. "Folks, please take your seats until we get the plane fully secured here. They're going to come inside."

Dar dropped into her chair, setting her briefcase down by her feet as she tucked her passport and identification into one hand. She looked out the window, not surprised to see several military transports pulling up. "Ah. C'mon."

"What?" Alastair looked up from rooting out his passport.

"I have too much to do with too few energized brain cells to deal with pissed off officials," Dar sighed, bracing her foot up against the small desk as the steward opened the door and carefully lowered it with its attached stairs. "Alastair, just cut them a check."

Her boss chuckled and shook his head, then straightened as three men in uniform came into the plane, with machine guns pointed right at them. "Ah."

"Everyone stay where you are and don't move," the first man said, in a firm voice.

Dar took in the tense posture, and the flicking eyes, and had the sense to stay still, just watching as two of the men came down the aisle and the third slammed the steward against the wall. "Don't move, Alastair," she said. "That's loaded and he's jacked enough to pull the trigger."

The lead soldier swung his muzzle around and pointed it at her, his face obscured behind a gas mask.

Dar met his gaze evenly. "My father taught me not to point at something unless I'm going to shoot it," she remarked. "Especially civs."

He stared at her briefly, moving the muzzle of his gun away from her, then just continued on down the aisle, moving to the back of the plane and kicking open the bathroom door.

The second man, after sweeping the area around them turned and headed for the cockpit. "Get him secured, and come with me," he instructed the third man. "They said these people are all right."

The third man hustled the steward out to hands they could see reaching in the door, then whirled and ducked through the door and headed up to the front of the plane.

"Well." Alastair folded his hands on his lap. "Ain't this nice."

"At least we're all right." Dar got out her PDA and started typing on it. "I was definitely not in the mood to be body slammed."

"You were pretty cool in front of a gun," he commented. "Not that you're not pretty cool in most situations."

"I was hoping I was talking to a pro," Dar admitted. "They really do know how to do this. Military training is not the oxymoron most people think it is."

"Ah."

The third man came back down the aisle and passed them without comment. He went to the door and motioned to someone, then he too, headed for the cockpit.

Heavy steps sounded on the stairs and two men entered, dressed in dark uniforms complete with gun belt and mace cans. They approached Alastair and Dar with very no nonsense expressions.

"Hi," Alastair greeted them. "How're you doing, fellas?" He held up his passport. "Want to start with this?"

The man in the lead did take the passport, opening it to study the contents while his companion held out his hand to Dar for hers. "Ma'am?"

Dar obliged. She watched him flip through the pages. She noticed behind him that two more soldiers had come in and were standing in the aisle, blocking her view of the front of the plane. They weren't facing toward her though. They were facing away.

Hm.

"You folks say you boarded in England?" the first man asked Alastair.

"That we did," Alastair agreed. "Little airfield in London. Nice place. Nice folks."

"Where did you expect to land?" the man asked.

"Mexico City," Dar answered.

The customs officer turned. "I didn't ask you."

Dar merely looked at him, one eyebrow lifting.

"Mexico City," Alastair spoke up, in a dry tone.

The customs officer turned back to him. "Did you know your pilot asked for a course change?"

"Sure. I told him to." Alastair leaned on his chair arm. "I didn't feel like flying into a storm and spending a couple hours losing my lunch," he added. "So yes, I knew. I asked him to fly south, and go around the storm. For some reason, that wasn't appreciated."

"No, it wasn't," the man said. "What was your business in Mexico?"

"It's the closest place I could land to Houston," Alastair said. "That's where we actually were going."

"Houston? You live there?"

"I live there," Alastair confirmed. "Our corporate offices are there."

There was a hustle of motion near the front, and Dar got a glimpse of the crew being crowded out the door, surrounded by the soldiers. She got a look at the pilot's face, and saw utter fear there. "What's going on there?" she asked, pointing at the door.

"That's not your concern ma'am." The other customs officer studied the rest of her ID. "I see you have a Florida driver's license in here." He glanced up at her. "Can I ask what that's for?"

"Driving," Dar answered. "You need one. It's the law."

The officer looked hard at her. "You need a Florida license in Texas? That's news to me. What about you, Roger?"

"News to me too," the other officer said. "Can you explain why you have a Florida license if you live in Texas?"

"I don't live in Texas." Dar was starting to find the conversation irritating. "I live in Florida, at the address on the license." She pointed at the passport. "That's why the passport was issued in Miami, too. Flying to Texas to get one would have been pointless."

"But you were going to Texas?" The man ignored her sarcasm.

"We were going to Texas because it has a country on its border we could fly into." Dar explained. "And we were trying to get home. But trust me, I would be a lot happier to be in Miami." She paused. "Where I live. At the address on the license."

"I'm not, given this conversation," Alastair said. "I'd rather have played poker with the agents in Laredo."

The first officer swung around to him. "You may think this is funny, but I can assure you it's not."

"I don't find it funny at all," Alastair shot back. "Considering you've had our names for four hours and a five second visit to Google would have identified us and the company we work for, and since we've got to now go bust our asses fixing things for the government I'd just appreciate it if you agree we are who the passports say we are and let us get on with it."