Eye in the Sky

"No, she has to be seen getting off the bus in Albuquerque. We have to be able to make her disappear there, not here. If she disappears here, they'll never stop looking. The limousine is going to be parked around the block behind the bus station, Sawyer. Make sure no one follows you and sees you get in. I hope to see you in the morning."

Rawlins pulled out his money clip again and peeled off five more hundreds. He tucked the money into her hand and the two young people got out and went into the station.

Sawyer bought the ticket and Lawson walked her to the bus. "Bye, Sawyer, see you soon." She picked up her bag and turned to get on the bus.

"Hey, Sawyer," she turned back. "I forgot something," he said. He took an iPod from his pocket. "You can borrow this," he told her. "It will help pass the time. And there's one more thing I've wanted to do ever since I saw you on that bench."

"What is it?" she asked.

He put his arms around her and tilted up her chin with one finger. He bent over and kissed her full lips. They tasted like chocolate and cinnamon. She stiffened for a moment and then relaxed into his arms and pressed her lips fiercely into his. It was her first kiss, and she never wanted it to end.

"Time to go, kids." The driver mounted the steps and Lawson reluctantly let Sawyer slip away. She looked back on the top step and gave him a little wave. He lifted his hand and walked back to the car.

Sawyer found a seat and collapsed into it. She felt very alone, but then, she had been alone her whole life. The bus was nearly empty. There seemed to be only about five other passengers. She figured out the controls, made a playlist on Lawson's iPod and leaned back in her seat. Her heart was pounding from that kiss, but weariness soon overwhelmed her and she slept, Joe Satriani's Flying in a Blue Dream filling her ears.

Lawson and Rawlins drove home. "I don't know what just happened there, Son, but I don't think it's over," Rawlins said. "I hope we don't regret this."

"What was I supposed to do, Pop? She was freezing on a park bench down at the store. She didn't have anywhere else to go. I couldn't just leave her there."

"I know, Lawson. I wasn't suggesting that. I'm proud of you. You could never pass up a lost puppy. How many of them have you brought home in your life? This isn't a puppy. I'm afraid this girl is going to be risky. She's hiding something, Son. I don't know what it is but it might be something really bad."

Lawson got in the shower and Rawlins finished the report he was working on. Three hours passed. It was 11 PM when the buzzer on the front gate sounded.

"Yes?" Rawlins responded.

"This is agent Calston with the National Security Agency," a voice said. "I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but could we speak with you, Mr. Sloan?"

"Of course," he said, "I'll buzz you through."

He opened the gate and walked to the front door as a black SUV pulled up. Two men in dark suits got out and he invited them in.

He escorted them to the living room and seated them on the leather sofa. He sat in his recliner. "What can I do for you, Agent Calston? May I see some identification?"

The two Agents produced laminated ID badges and Rawlins turned to his laptop on the end table beside him. He entered some information and then turned to the two Agents and handed the laminates back. "You check out," he said. "Now what can I do for you?"

"How were you able to 'check us out?'" Agent Brown asked.

"I design weapons targeting software for the US military," Rawlins explained. "I have a TS/SCI Umbra clearance. I have access to personnel records at NSA."

"I see, we had no idea," Brown said. "Well, Mr. Sloan, we are looking for a fugitive; a young woman named Sawyer Raleigh. She stole sensitive information from a top-secret NSA installation and we understand that she made contact with your son. They were seen at together at a diner not far from here and we were wondering if he might be able to help us locate her."

"Yes, I think he can," Rawlins said. "He brought her here to our house. They stayed for a minute then he took her somewhere and dropped her off. She didn't seem like a spy. She must be a talented young lady indeed to penetrate one of your installations."

"She is a computer hacker with a lot of skill," Calston said. "She penetrated a system and took sensitive information. May we speak with your son?"

"Of course," Rawlins walked to the stairs and called up. "Lawson, could you come down here please?"

"Just a minute Pops, I'm drying off now. Let me throw some clothes on."

Rawlins returned to his chair. "May I offer you gentlemen something to drink? I'm having a very old apricot brandy, would you like a taste?"

The agents agreed, and Rawlins poured from the decanter. "Very good, what is this?" Calston asked.

"It's a Hors D'age from Remy Martin," Rawlins informed him.

Lawson came galloping down the stairs and Rawlins introduced him to the two agents. "These gentlemen are with the NSA. They want to ask you some questions," he told Lawson.

"We're looking for a young lady you were seen with tonight," Agent Calston told him. "We understand you bought her dinner and left the diner with her. We were hoping you could give us a lead on where she might have gone?"

"What do you want her for?" Lawson asked.

"Never mind that, Son, just tell the Agents if you know where she went."

"Well, yes I do," Lawson said. "I took her down to the bus station and she bought a ticket for Albuquerque."

"How did she pay for the ticket?" Brown asked.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I paid for it. Was that bad?"

"No Lawson, you had no way of knowing she was a fugitive. Right gentlemen?"

"That's right, Lawson," Calston assured him. "You aren't in any trouble. You seem like a very kind young man and she's pretty clever at getting people to do what she wants. Well, we have the information we need so we'll get out of your hair. I know Lawson has school tomorrow. By the way, Lawson, I understand you're quite a football player. I hear USC has offered you a scholarship. I played there 15 years ago and if there's anything I can do for you, your father knows how to get in touch with me."

"How did you know?" Lawson asked. "I haven't told anyone but Coach Weathers and Pop."

"We're the NSA, son," Brown said, "We know everything." He winked at Lawson and Rawlins escorted them out.

Rawlins closed the gate and Lawson exploded. "Dude, the NSA? What kind of trouble is Sawyer in?"

"Very serious trouble," Rawlins mused. "They told me a bunch of lies about her being a computer hacker. The NSA doesn't go after computer hackers. That would be the FBI's job. Lawson, you've never caused me a minute's trouble in your life. I guess you were saving it all up to drop on me in one big bundle; or, I guess I should say, one very small bundle. That girl is dynamite in a small package."

"Yeah, but did you notice how hot she is?" Lawson whistled.

"Yes I did, son. I've always deplored your taste in girls, but this one is as cute as a month old kitten. I saw what you did at the bus station. Very smooth, Lawson."

"I've got game like that," Lawson laughed.

"Yes, I guess you do." Rawlins eyed his son dubiously. "I never suspected such subtlety. Let's try to get some sleep, Lawson. We'll need to be at the complex by eight in the morning. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to miss school tomorrow."

"Coach Weathers will make me run if I miss practice." Lawson complained.

"I know. It will be good for you. I'll call the school and tell them we have a family emergency. Maybe we can get you back by noon, that way you can still go to practice. Good night son, I love you."

"Love you too Pop, 'night." Lawson took the stairs two at a time. He had a little trouble falling asleep. The thought of those soft lips clinging to his ran through his head and he missed his iPod. He always fell asleep listening to music. He got up, made a set list on iTunes on his desktop and soon drifted off to the sounds of Flying in a Blue Dream.

Chapter Two

Sawyer woke when the bus stopped in Albuquerque. It was four in the morning and it was still very dark. She got her bag, walked up the sidewalk and waited for the two passengers who got off to disperse. The air brakes hissed as the bus pulled away and she quickly walked back the other way and around the corner. She walked up the block to the next corner and looked around. The street was deserted. She turned the corner and walked half way down the block. She looked around and there was no one in sight. She extended her awareness and felt only sleeping minds except for one man across the street. She turned and saw the form of the white limousine in the alley. The window opened and a man's voice spoke.

"Over here, kid."

She hurried across the street and a burly man got out and opened the back door for her. She climbed in and he closed the door behind her. He got in and closed the door. He turned to look at her with his right arm on the back of the seat.

He was middle aged, his head shaven and his eyes were glints of black in his rugged face. "I'm Mike and you're Ms. Raleigh," he said. "As long as you follow my instructions we're going to get along just fine. Mess with me and I'll put duct tape on your mouth, hands and feet and put you in the trunk. Got it?"

Sawyer nodded. "Yes, Mike, I understand."

"Good. You're a smart kid. Just relax; we've got a little ride ahead. You like music, Miss Raleigh?"

"Yes, Mike, I do."

"Good." He put a flash drive in the stereo and the voice of Frank Sinatra filled the big car.

Sawyer curled up in the big leather seat and went back to sleep.

Mike drove an hour to an executive airport. He got out and swiped his card. The gate rolled back and he drove to a hanger. He got out again and punched in a code. The hanger door rolled up and he drove in and parked. He looked in the back seat and noticed that Sawyer was still asleep. He smiled a little and left her there. He walked to the Learjet 45XR parked inside, boarded the craft and did his pre-flight checks.

He walked back to the limo and opened the back door. "Miss Raleigh, time to go."

She sat up, stretched and rubbed her eyes. She looked like a kitten waking up from a nap, he thought. Mike liked this girl instinctively.

"Hello, Mike. Where are we?" she asked.

"This is Mr. Sloan's hanger at the airport. We need to get on the plane."

She collected her bag and they boarded the jet.

"Buckle in," he told her. "This won't take long."

He walked to the cockpit.

"Mike?" He stopped.

"What is it?"

"Do you think I could sit up front with you?"

"Sure, just don't touch anything."

"I won't," she promised.

They buckled in and the engines whined to life. Mike taxied to the runway and got clearance to take off. He eased back on the throttles and Sawyer was crushed back into her seat as the jet clawed its way into the sky. She clutched the arms of her seat nervously as the ground receded.

Mike glanced over at her. "First time flying?" he asked.

She nodded. He reached over and patted her arm. "It's okay. This baby can do nearly 600 miles an hour. We'll be there in 20 minutes. Just relax."

Sawyer reached out. Mike was a very simple man. He had absolute loyalty to his code. Get the job done you're paid to do. He loved three people in the world, his sister, Rawlins and Lawson. He was fanatically loyal to Rawlins and would gladly take a bullet for him. Lawson was like the son Mike never had. The things Mike had done! She was shocked, but it was all according to his code. She felt a huge loneliness in his burly body. He put on a bluff exterior but he was a marshmallow on the inside. It was heartbreaking.

She stretched out her hand and laid it on his. "Thank you for taking care of me, Mike. I'm very grateful."

He looked over at her. He squeezed her soft little hand with his hard, callused one. "You're all right, Ms. Raleigh. No need to thank me, though, part of the job."

Almost before they reached cruising altitude, they were descending again and Sawyer's ears felt full of cotton. "Yawn some. Your ears will pop and you'll feel better," he told her.

She stretched her mouth open and her ears popped, just as he said. They touched down and taxied into the hanger. Mike switched off the engines and the whine of the jets wound down.

They got off the plane and walked to a cargo van with the letters RLK emblazoned on the side. Mike threw her bag in the back and opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in and he slid behind the wheel.

"Mike, what is RLK?" She asked.

"Mr. Sloan's company," he told her.

"What does it stand for?"

"It stands for Rawlins, Lawson and Kimberly,"

"Who's Kimberly?"

"She was Rawlins's wife and Lawson's mother," he said. "She died four years ago. She went in for a dentist appointment and they did some sort of surgery. She had a blood clot and never woke up."

Sawyer could feel that Mike had loved Kimberly like his own daughter. "I'm sorry, Mike. Did you love her?"

"Very much. She was a great girl. She was so full of kindness and love. She called me Uncle Mike." His eyes misted up a little. "We all miss her every day."

She patted his arm. "It must be nice to have such good memories of her," she said.

"It is, but it's kind of painful too. What about you? You got parents?"

"I never knew them," she said. "I'm an orphan."

"Well, that's a tough story kid. If you're going to be spending time with the Sloans, you'll never meet better people. Rawlins seems to think you're going to be here a while. I'm sure they'll fall in love with you, especially Lawson. You're too cute."

She dimpled up. "Thank you, Mike, I think you're very handsome, too."

He choked. "Okay. Now you're laying it on a little thick." He patted her head with one big hand and squeezed her shoulder. "This is the place."

He turned onto a long drive, winding between pear trees up to a large brick building with the RLK logo on the front. He drove past the main building and she saw that there were a dozen more. They were smaller, but still large.

"This place is huge, Mike. What do they do here?"

"This is RLK headquarters," he said. "RLK is a software company. They primarily design weapons control software for the military, but they also do banking and accounting software and medical software for doctor's offices and hospitals. RLK is the third largest software company in the world."

"What are the first two?" she asked.

"Microsoft and Cisco," he told her.

"Rawlins owns all this?"

"That's right. He can do a lot for you if you let him."

Sawyer was lost in thought for a few minutes and realized that Mike had pulled up to a one of a group of three of the smaller buildings.

"Take a look around. If you don't see anyone scoot around the van and run in to that door," he told her.

She looked out the window and glanced into the rear view mirror. A woman was approaching in a car and Sawyer waited until the car passed and disappeared down the hill. She jumped out and ran to the door. Mike opened it and they saw a room with a hot tub and exercise equipment to the right. A closed door was ahead past a flight of stairs and Mike led the way up the stairs to a living room. Two bedrooms with their own bathrooms opened off the living room with a bar separating it from a kitchen and a glass wall with sliding doors opened onto a sun porch with patio furniture sitting around on it on the other side.

"Mike, who lives here?" she asked.

"You do, kid," he grinned.

"No, who usually lives here?"

"No one, this is where important people visiting the complex on business stay while they're here. We have three of them. Get comfortable and I'll get us breakfast," he said. "You hungry?"

"Starving," she said.

"What can I get you; a doughnut and a cup of coffee?"

Sawyer sensed something so she reached out to Mike, discovering several amusing stories about policemen and donuts. She laughed. "I'm not a policeman, Mike. I want juice and fruit and chocolate milk."

"Well, you'd be the cutest policeman ever," he laughed. "That order is going to take me a minute. I'll have to run over to the main building and get it from the deli over there. You sure you don't just want a doughnut?"

"You're just trying to make me fat. I'm sure."

"Okay, be back in a jiffy."

"I'm going to take a shower while you're gone," she said.

"Good idea, you don't smell so good," he joked.

She laughed and went into one of the bedrooms and turned on the shower. To her delight jets of water sprang out from the walls and up from the floor. She looked around and noticed something she thought was peculiar. "Hey, Mike? How come there are two toilets?"

"Bidet," he called in, "for washing."

She tested the appliance and clapped her hands in delight. She heard Mike leave and she took off her crumpled clothes and stepped into the shower. She pumped the gel dispenser, got a handful and began to soap up. The hot water, pelting her from every side, made her skin tingle. She washed her hair and stood under the spray, luxuriating in the heat and steam that had filled the large cubicle. Finally, she turned off the water and reached for her towel. She patted herself dry and walked to her bag.

She saw herself in the mirror and turned to look with a critical eye. If only she were taller, she thought. She examined herself. She liked the features of her face. Her huge brown eyes were beautiful, although she had always wished for blue ones. Her damp hair fell on her shoulders. Small high breasts stood out proudly, tiny brown nipples hard in the chill after the shower. She cupped them and felt a satisfying fullness to the firm mounds. Her waist was narrow and flared into slim hips and muscular buttocks that looked full on her small frame. Her legs were long, compared to her small frame, and tapered to tiny feet. Her thighs and calves were slim but also very muscular. She flexed one thigh and the muscles jumped and writhed. Her naturally tawny complexion was flawless. She shivered and wrapped the towel back around her. She got another to wrap around her hair, slipped on panties and walked out into the living room.

Mike was seated at the bar, eating a doughnut and drinking a cup of coffee. He had a large glass plate on the bar with cantaloupe, honeydew and watermelon on it. There were also grapes, orange slices, strawberries and a banana. Another, smaller plate contained pastries and there was a bottle of chocolate milk and a carton of guava nectar. She ran to the bar and put her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek. "Oh, thank you, Mike. It looks delicious."

He laughed. "Dig in." He reached over the bar, opened a drawer and got her a fork. She sat on the stool beside him, pulled the big plate close and began to eat.

She glanced dubiously at his doughnut. "Are you sure you aren't a policeman, Mike?"

He laughed. "I used to be. I guess old habits die hard. I retired from the San Diego police department 15 years ago. More money in private security. Besides, I got tired of busting people for being stupid. We couldn't catch the smart ones and it was like putting a Band-Aid on a bullet wound. I've been working for Mr. Sloan ever since. I'm the head of security for RLK."

"Oh," she said. "You're pretty important then. I thought you were a babysitter."

He laughed. "You're pretty sharp, kid. I haven't laughed this much in the last ten years put together. Have I told you I like you?"

"Yes, Mike, will you open this box for me? I can't seem to get the knack."

"You're opening the wrong end. Haven't you ever opened a carton before?"

"I've never seen a carton before," she confided.

"You been on the moon?" he asked.

"No, Groom Lake," she said.

Mike was stunned. "What in the hell were you doing there? You an alien Sawyer? No, don't tell me. I don't want to know."