“So I’ve heard,” Nathan said.

“We aren’t strict enforcers of seat-belt rules, but it’s best if you’re strapped in for takeoffs and landings.”

“Shouldn’t you at least brief us on emergency procedures?” Nathan asked. “You know, emergency exits, that kind of stuff?”

“Naw,” Jenkins said. “If we crash, there will be lots of exits.”

Nathan smiled. He liked these guys.

“Nathan’s a helicopter pilot,” Henning added. “He owns a Bell Jet Ranger.”

“No kidding?”

Nathan shrugged.

“I’ve always wanted to learn helicopters.”

“Is your father really Stone McBride?” Williamson asked.

Jenkins bumped him. “We aren’t supposed to know that.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Can you… uh… forget I just asked that?”

These two were real characters. Nathan hoped they took their flying more seriously. “To answer the question, Yes, he’s my father.”

The first officer nudged his captain. “Shouldn’t we salute him or something?”

Shaking his head, Nathan took a seat facing forward and fastened his belt.

Jenkins mouthed the word sorry to Nathan and pivoted toward the cockpit, but before disappearing behind the cockpit door, he turned back, his expression serious. “Listen, it might seem like we’re indifferent about what happened today. We aren’t. We use humor to relieve stress. We’re as angry as the next man, but that anger doesn’t belong in here.”

“Understood,” Nathan said.

“We’ve got to file our flight plan into Fort Leavenworth, it’ll take a few minutes.” Jenkins studied him for a few seconds. “Did Lansing bring you in to find whoever bombed us?”

Nathan wasn’t sure how to respond, wasn’t sure how much he could share without violating Lansing’s or Holly’s trust. He hadn’t been introduced as Special Agent Nathan McBride, so they knew he wasn’t with the bureau. They probably figured him as some kind of VIP bounty hunter. He sensed Henning tense behind him. Walking a tightrope, he used only his eyes, moving them up and down in a nod.

Jenkins got the message. Definitely trained military.