Tom Clancy - Without Remorse

Circling at five thousand feet, Cody-193 finally ran out of fuel and became a glider. When the airspeed fell to the right number, explosive bolts blew a hatch cover off the top, deploying a parachute. The Navy helicopter was already on station, and the white 'chute made for a fine target. The drone's weight was a scant fifteen hundred pounds now, barely that of eight men. Wind and visibility cooperated this day. The 'chute was snagged on their first attempt, and the helicopter turned at once, heading for the carrier USS Constellation, where the drone was carefully lowered into a cradle, ending its sixty-second combat mission. Before the helicopter could find its own spot on the flight deck, a technician was already unfastening the cover plate on the photo compartment and yanking the heavy film cassette from its slot. He took it below at once, and handed it over to another technician in the ship's elaborate photo lab. Processing required a brief six minutes, and the still-damp film was wiped clean and handed over yet again to an intelligence officer. It was better than good. The film was run from one spool to another over a flat glass plate under which was a pair of fluorescent lights.

'Well, Lieutenant?' a captain asked tensely.

'Okay, sir, wait one...' Turning the spool, he pointed to the third image. "There's our first reference point... there's number two, she was right on course... okay, here's the IP... down the valley, over the hill - there, sir! We have two, three frames! Good ones, the sun was just right, clear day - you know why they call these babies Buffalo Hunters? It's -'

'Let me see!' The Captain nearly shoved the junior officer out of the way. There was a man there, an American, with two guards, and a fourth man - but it was the American he wanted to see.

'Here, sir.' The Lieutenant handed over a magnifying glass. 'We might get a good face off of this, and we can play with the negative some more if you give us a little time. Like I said, the cameras can tell the difference between a male and a female -'

'Mmmmm.' The face was black, meaning a white man on the negative. But - 'Damn, I can't tell.'

'Cap'n, that's our job, okay?' He was an intelligence officer. The Captain was not. 'Let us do our job, sir.'

'He's one of ours!'

'Sure as hell, sir, and this guy isn't. Let me take these back to the lab for positive prints and blowups. The air wing will want a look at the port shots, too.'

'They can wait.'

'No, sir, they can't,' the Lieutenant pointed out. But he took a pair of scissors and removed the relevant shots. The remainder of the roll was handed to a chief petty officer, while the Lieutenant and the Captain went back to the photo lab. Fully two months of work had gone into the flight of Cody-193, and the Captain lusted for the information he knew to be on those three two-and-a-quarter-inch frames.

An hour later he had it. An hour after that, he boarded a flight to Danang. Another hour and he was on a flight to Cubi Point Naval Air Station in the Philippines, followed by a puddle-jumper to Clark Air Force Base, and???-135 that would fly directly to California. Despite the time and rigors of the next twenty hours of flying, the Captain slept briefly and fitfully, having solved a mystery whose answer just might change the policy of his government.

First Light

Kelly slept nearly eight hours, again arising at the sound of the gulls to find that Pam wasn't there. He went outside and saw her standing on the quay, looking out over the water, still weary, still robbed of the ability to get the rest she needed. The Bay had its usual morning calm, the glassy surface punctuated by the circular ripples of bluefish chasing after insects. Conditions like this seemed so fitting to the start of a day, a gentle westerly breeze in his face, and the odd silence that allowed one to hear the rumble of a boat's motor from so far away that the boat could not be seen. It was the sort of time that allowed you to be alone with nature, but he knew that Pam merely felt alone. Kelly walked out to her as quietly as he could and touched her waist with both his hands.

'Good morning.' She didn't answer for a long time, and Kelly stood still, holding her lightly, just enough that she could feel his touch. She was wearing one of his shirts, and he didn't want his touch to be sexual, only protective. He was afraid to press himself on a woman who'd suffered that kind of abuse, and could not predict where the invisible line might be.

'So now you know,' she said, just loudly enough to be heard over the silence, unable to turn and face him.

'Yes,' Kelly answered, equally quiet.

'What do you think?' Her voice was a painful whisper.

'I'm not sure what you mean, Pam.' Kelly felt the trembling start, and he had to resist the urge to hold her tighter.

'About me.'

'About you?' He allowed himself to get a little closer, altering his hold until his arms wrapped around her waist, but not tightly. 'I think you're beautiful. I think I'm real glad we met.'

'I do drugs.'

'The docs say you're trying to quit. That's good enough for me.'

'It's worse than that. I've done things -' Kelly cut her off.

'I don't care about that, Pam. I've done things, too. And one thing you did for me was very nice. You gave me something to care about, and I didn't ever expect that to happen.' Kelly pulled her tighter. 'The things you did before we met don't matter. You're not alone, Pam. I'm here to help if you want me to.'

'When you find out...' she warned.

'I'll take my chances. I think I know the important parts already. I love you, Pam.' Kelly surprised himself with those words. He'd been too afraid to voice the thought even to himself. It was too irrational, but again emotion won out over reason, and reason, for once, found itself approving.

'How can you say that?' Pam asked. Kelly gently turned her around and smiled.

'Damned if I know! Maybe it's your tangled hair - or your runny nose.' He touched her chest through the shirt. 'No, I think it's your heart. No matter what's behind you, your heart is just fine.'

'You mean that, don't you?' she asked, looking at his chest. There was a long moment, then Pam smiled up at him, and that, too, was like a dawn. The orange-yellow glow of the rising sun lit up her face and highlighted her fair hair.

Kelly wiped the tears from her face, and the wet feel of her cheeks eliminated whatever doubts he might have had. 'We're going to have to get you some clothes. This is no way for a lady to dress.'

'Who says I'm a lady?'

'I do.'

'I'm so scared!'

Kelly pulled her against his chest. 'It's okay to be scared. I was scared all the time. The important part is to know that you're going to do it.' His hands rubbed up and down her back. He hadn't intended to make this a sexual encounter, but he found himself becoming aroused until he realized that his hands were rubbing over scars made by men with whips or ropes or belts or other odious things. Then his eyes looked straight out over the water, and it was just as well that she couldn't see his face.

'You must be hungry,' he said, stepping away from her, holding on to her hands.

She nodded. 'Starving.'

'That I can fix.' Kelly led her by the hand back to the bunker. Already he loved her touch. They met Sam and Sarah coming from the other side of the island after a morning's walk and stretch.

'How are our two lovebirds?' Sarah asked with a beaming smile, because she'd already seen the answer, watching from two hundred yards away.

'Hungry!' Pam replied.

'And we're getting a couple of screws today,' Kelly added with a wink.

'What?' Pam asked.

'Propellers,' Kelly explained. 'For Sam's boat.'

'Screws?'

'Sailor talk, trust me.' He grinned at her, and she wasn't sure if she could believe it or not.