The captain followed them, along with the male flight attendant who brought Dani’s purse and her sack of books.
“What now?” she asked helplessly.
“The airline will pay for hotel rooms,” the captain said with a kind smile. “Tomorrow we’ll fly you to Greenville.”
Dutch looked hunted as he glanced over the captain’s shoulder. “The press corps has taken up residence,” he growled.
“No stomach for stardom?” the captain grinned.
“None whatsoever,” came the taut reply. “Dani and I are catching the next flight out of here tonight,” he added flatly. “I’m afraid that the international wire services will have a field day.”
“Probably so,” the captain agreed. “It seems our erstwhile hijackers have some interesting ties to a certain Central American dictator and a few communist strings as well.” He sighed. “They’d have wanted weapons once we landed,” he said, glancing at Dutch.
“Yes. And they’d have gotten them,” the blond man said. He lit a cigarette.
“Used that knife very often?” the captain asked quietly.
Dutch nodded. “Far too often, in years past.”
“Would you mind telling me what occupation you’re in?” he was asked.
Dutch eyed him quietly. “Care to make an educated guess?”
“Covert operations.”
He nodded, noticing Dani’s hollow-eyed stare. He looked down at her with unreadable eyes. “I’m a professional mercenary. My specialty is logistics, but I’m handy with small arms as well, and I have something of a reputation with that knife. I made it myself.” He glanced at the captain. “When the surgeons get it removed, I’d like to have it back.”
The captain nodded. “I’ll have it gold-plated, if you like. You saved us one hell of a mess. Any time you need help, just let me know.”
“That isn’t likely, but thank you.”
The captain walked away and Dutch smoked his cigarette quietly while the press converged on the pilot once he was alone.
“Is that why you wanted to avoid the press?” Dani asked hesitantly. He frightened her. Despite the fact that she’d read The Dogs of War twice and seen the film three times, she could hardly believe what she was hearing. It was like watching a movie. All of it. The hijacking, the way he’d handled the hijackers, the matter-of-fact way he’d dealt with all of it. Her eyes were glued to his face while she turned it all around in her mind. She was married to a soldier of fortune. Now what was she going to do?
He saw that look in her eyes and could have cursed. Fate was giving him a hard time.
“I don’t like publicity,” he said. “My private life is sacred.”
“And where do I fit into your life?” she asked quietly. It was too soon to ask that, but things needed to be said now.
“You’re my wife,” he said simply.
“Why did you marry me?” she asked.
He looked hunted. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. He took a deep puff of his cigarette before he replied. “I wanted you.”
So that was all, she thought. It didn’t hurt, although she was sure it was going to, when the numbness wore off. She was still in a state of shock. She had risked her life, seen a man wounded in front of her eyes, learned that her husband was a mercenary….
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