Hangar 13

“I see.” Mac swung the car down another street and drove toward the last hangar silhouetted in the darkness.

“I’m opposed to war,” Ellie told him. “Men have waged too many wars over the centuries and no good ever comes from it. Everybody suffers.”

“No argument from me.” Mac eased into a parking space next to the huge, dark hangar. “I see myself as a deterrent to war.”

“Really?” Ellie eyed him questioningly. “Were you in Desert Storm?”

“Yes.” Mac turned off the engine. Silence settled as he turned and gazed at her shadowed face. “Being in the military doesn’t give us the right to decide who’s right or wrong. We’re in place to protect this country and its people.”

With a sigh, Ellie said, “I’m not a warrior like you, Mac. I have real reservations about the military in general.”

He opened the door; he didn’t want to open that can of worms. “This is Hangar 13. Come on, I’ll take you inside and you can check out where I work.”

With a nod, Ellie got out before Mac could come around and open the door for her. Not to be deterred, Mac cupped her elbow and led her along the sidewalk that curved around to the front of the hangar. Ellie noticed he deliberately shortened his long, lanky stride to match hers.

“Tonight there’s no one working in the hangar,” he said, gesturing toward it.

The place looked like an oversize Quonset hut to Ellie. Lights illuminated the top of it.

“We repair the jets from our squadrons in these hangars,” he explained as he opened the door for her.

Ellie nodded. Once inside the huge, shadowy structure, she said, “Let me just stand here for a moment and accustom myself to the vibrations.” The bay area was nearly dark. Two huge F-15 fighters sat quietly, ready to be worked on come morning. No unusual sounds disturbed the silence.

Mac nodded and dropped his hand from her elbow. “I can turn on more lights if you want.”

“No…this is fine.” Ellie took a deep breath to center herself. With Mac’s presence, it was tougher than usual for her to focus inwardly. She liked him, despite his career calling. And, to be honest, she found him more than a little attractive. Still, a voice in the back of her head told her, there was no room in her personal life for a military officer. They could never hope to find a common meeting ground.

Mac stepped aside and watched Ellie as she closed her eyes. Her lashes lay like thick ebony fans against her high, golden cheekbones. She had placed her shawl around her shoulders and stood with her hands clasped against her breast. She bowed her head slightly, eyes still shut. He wondered what she was doing.

Taking deep breaths through her nose and releasing them through her mouth, Ellie was able to center herself, to switch to her internal guidance, which connected her gut, her heart and her right brain. Everything had a feeling to it, a frequency, and as she opened herself up to all possibilities, she allowed the feelings of the hangar to permeate her consciousness. The silence was almost oppressive to her. Then, suddenly, she felt movement.