To be surrounded by scores of guards, but couldn’t imagine a place safer than my arms.
—Kiera Cass
Night Storm
Being under siege plays strange tricks on your mind. Angelina and I knew a protective detail was stationed just outside guarding the suite, but we still felt apprehensive.
“What scares you most?” I asked her.
We were sitting on the couch with lamps turned off watching the city lights’ milky glow through the window sheers.
“I guess I’m concerned about the future. The prospect of being watched and threatened is depressing. I don’t know how long it will take to excavate the alien craft and then to guard the site—it’s just so overwhelming.”
I tried to reassure her.
“Paul said that he’d have a team of special forces troops protecting access to the site.”
She nodded, “I know but it’s the on-going worry about covert surveillance and there’d always be the possibility of one of us being kidnapped and held for ransom. Believe me, Zach, the Russians would do anything to get their hands on alien technology.”
“There’s another solution,” I suggested, ”allowing the government to transport the craft to a secure facility where you can carry out the investigation in complete safety.”
“That’s a possibility,” she conceded, “at least it’s better than surrendering the spaceship to the Americans and not being able to examine it myself. They’d classify it and restrict access to only authorized personel and they’d probably back-engineer it and label it top-secret and I’d never see it again.”
I leaned over and kissed her softly on her lips. “You’re really something, you know? Besides being dedicated to your work, you’re incredibly brave. I’ll support you whatever decision you make.”
“I think we should both get some sleep—it’ll be a long day tomorrow. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“You mean you’re not going to crash right here on this comfy couch?” I teased.
“No, I really do need sleep,” she smiled, “and I don’t think either of us would get much following your plan. This crashed saucer is enough of a challenge without us complicating things by crashing on this couch.”
“Touche,” I sighed, melodramatically, “the sacrifices we make for science.”
“Poor Boy,” she smirked, “you might get a medal from the government for service beyond the call of duty.”
Somehow I couldn’t see Paul Laurent recommending me for that.
The couch, it turned out, was actually comfy and I didn’t waken until the morning sunlight was streaming in the window.
“Good morning, Sleepy Head,” Angelina’s lips lightly brushed my lips.
I sat up, dazed, to see her lying on the love seat opposite me.
Did you spend the night there?” I asked, confused.
She nodded. “There was quite a lightning storm overnight and I felt safer near you. You must have been exhausted because you slept through the din.”
“I guess you were right about our needing sleep—at least in my case.”
“Oh, I went right to sleep after I watched you for about an hour. I felt more secure with you than feeling protected by the security team outside.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing,” I laughed.
“It is,” she grinned mischievously, “because it felt so right I could see us doing this forever, but in our own bed, of course.”
I realized as I looked at her that despite being a dangerous woman the way she made me feel was worth the risk…
And when I found she had ordered the continental breakfast of coffee, fruit and croissants, the picture seemed complete.
I could follow this ritual of coffee spoons and conversation and never tire of it, or her.
Now all we had to do was see if this crashed alien ship was still functioning,
And if it was, to explore what technological secrets it might contain.