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  “Smart, Nick. Really smart.” Sighing again, she reached for the blasted phone.

  Andrea was right: Adams wanted to handle it immediately, and his mood wasn’t improved by the fact that he’d just climbed into bed when Andrea rousted him out. She had to escort Wilson and Hart over to Colonel Adams’s office and wait while he questioned them. Then they had to wait again while he radioed the relief crew, who were still out in their hole somewhere in the barren reaches of wintry North Dakota, to confirm the cops’ story. Once he had the confirmation, Adams asked Andrea to send out a truck to pick up Lieutenants Cantrell and Morrell from their nice warm beds so they could personally explain their actions.

  Though it was well past three when Andrea at last tumbled into bed, sleep stubbornly eluded her. She told herself she was just keyed up from all the activity and excitement, but some part of her acknowledged that she was more frustrated than excited. The simple fact was that she’d been enjoying herself immensely at the mall with Dare MacLendon. For the first time ever, she resented the intrusion of her job into her private time.

  What might have happened if the evening had drawn to a normal close?

  Aw, cut it out! she told herself, and pounded her pillow into a more comfortable shape. She’d avoided any entanglements of that kind in favor of her career for a long time now. Besides, nothing could or would happen, given that Dare was her commanding officer. It wasn’t that such things were forbidden by regulation, because they weren’t. Andrea was acutely conscious, however, of how a relationship with her commanding officer would appear. A woman simply couldn’t afford such appearances.

  But a woman could, and did, lie in the dark and wonder what it would feel like to be held by a certain pair of strong arms against the warmth and strength of a certain body. And she could wonder just how much a person was supposed to sacrifice for a career.

  By Monday morning the entire base was buzzing about the missile crew that had abandoned its post and was facing a general court martial. A good month for the legal business, Andrea thought glumly as she trudged her way over to the Bomb Wing for the Monday morning staff meeting. The Judge Advocate General’s corps, or JAG, were probably tap-dancing with delight. If so, the lawyers were the only ones. It never ceased to amaze her how drastically a whole life could be altered by one moment of foolishness. It also never ceased to amaze her how fast gossip could pass among fifteen thousand people. Military communications should only be as effective as the base grapevine.

  The officers around the conference table all sprang to attention when MacLendon entered the room. He looked gorgeous again, Andrea thought sourly, as she watched him make his way to the head of the table. This morning he wore the long-sleeved light blue shirt with dark blue shoulder tabs and necktie, and there was no question in Andrea’s mind that he’d had that shirt specially made to fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Nobody else in the room had a fit like that. Of course, nobody else had quite his build, either.

  As she’d expected, her unit’s conduct in the affair of the missile crew was the first item on MacLendon’s agenda. His icy blue eyes showed no hint of warmth as he questioned her closely about how events had unfolded and how she had handled them. And finally he asked the question she’d been dreading.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this Friday night, as soon as you knew what was happening, Captain?”

  Her chin lifted. “When I had ascertained the facts in the matter, sir, Colonel Adams was the commander most directly involved and the one who most immediately needed to be notified. As soon as that was taken care of, I wrote a report, which was on your desk by 0830 Saturday morning, detailing the conduct of my troops and my actions. I did not imagine that a couple of Article Fifteens needed your immediate attention.”

  Dare leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin, never taking his eyes from her. Not another soul at the table stirred, sensing a confrontation.

  “I suppose,” Dare said presently, “that Colonel Houlihan would have agreed with you?”

  “I believe so, sir.”

  “Ordinarily I would agree that an Article Fifteen doesn’t need my immediate attention. In this case, however, something greater was involved, namely the possible compromise of the launch codes and the related conduct of airmen under my command. I don’t expect to hear about every brawl and AWOL, but a matter of this nature should be brought to my attention immediately.”

  “Very well, sir.” Her gaze met his steadily and unwaveringly.

  Dare nodded. “Other than this very minor complaint,” he continued more pleasantly, “I commend your handling of the matter, Captain. Now, on to other matters.”

  For the next half hour MacLendon listened to reports and fielded complaints from his staff. Most of the matters under discussion had little to do with Andrea, so she listened with only half an ear, the rest of her longing for an end to this meeting so she could get back to her own office and away from Dare’s disturbing presence. Why the devil had she been stupid enough to agree to spend Thanksgiving with him?

  It was with relief that she heard her radio squawk. Since the squadron knew where she was, it must be urgent.

  “Alpha Tango Niner, this is Bravo One, do you read?”

  Andrea looked up at Dare. “By your leave, sir?”

  “Go ahead, Burke.”

  She started to rise to leave the room, but MacLendon motioned her to remain, so she answered the call.

  “Bravo One, this is Alpha Tango Niner, go ahead.”

  “Alpha Tango Niner, we have an electronic security system failure—repeat, system failure—at Delta Three Zulu.”

  “Roger, Bravo One. Who’s out there? Over.”

  “Sergeant Nickerson, ma’am. When the call came in he took a squad out. Over.”

  “Tell Nick I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Alpha Tango Niner out.”

  Andrea looked up at Dare. “With your permission, sir.”

  “This needs your immediate attention?”

  “Sergeant Nickerson evidently thinks so, sir.”

  “Evidently. Go ahead, but this time I want a report as soon as you know what’s happened.”

  “Yes, sir.” Steaming and barely able to conceal it, Andrea hurried from the room. Damn the man! she thought. Houlihan had trusted her enough to handle things her own way. Why did MacLendon have to be so damn nosy? Nosy and attractive. The combination was going to drive her out of her mind. Maybe she ought to put in for a new assignment at a base far, far away. Like maybe the moon.

  By the time she reached Nickerson, who was on the far side of the airfield alongside the perimeter fence that separated the flight-line controlled area from acres of open land, Andrea had decided Alisdair MacLendon was a jinx. In the entire two years she’d commanded this squadron, she hadn’t had as many major problems as she’d had in the weeks since Dare arrived. Just when she didn’t need a nosy CO, she had one. There had to be some kind of cosmic connection there.

  “What’s up, Nick?” she asked the master sergeant as she climbed out of her truck.

  The lines in Nick’s face deepened. “Did you get roasted?”

  “Only as much as I expected. What’s wrong now?”

  “You’re feeling that way, too? Well, ma’am, somebody cut the fence.”

  “Last night?” Andrea scanned the chain-link fence but couldn’t see the damage. “Where?”

  “That’s the thing, ma’am. Whoever did it is planning to come back. He fixed it so it wouldn’t show, and none of the pressure sensors, trip wires or infrared detectors were triggered at any time, so we have to assume he didn’t try to go any farther.”

  Andrea cursed under her breath and followed Nickerson to the fence, where he showed her the careful cuts in the links and the way they’d been wrapped with lead wire so the weight of the fence didn’t pull the links apart, exposing the hole.

  “If Lattimer hadn’t been paying close attention,” Nick said, “he’d never have spotted this. Frankly, this could have been here a while.” Pulling h