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there was a file with a neat list of missions she’d accomplished. There would be performance comments, observations and details but there would be no personal information.
    She didn’t exist.
    Officially.
    “Fine. Dinner. Mess or someone’s kitchen. It doesn’t matter to me.”
    Let Jacobs haul her off to some dinner. Brice Campbell wasn’t going to make her run. Grace turned around and headed into the room for a shower.
    She didn’t care. She wouldn’t care. She refused to care.
    But she froze in front of the mirror. Her cheeks were pink. She stroked one, stunned to find it warm. Looking lower, she found her nipples beaded beneath her tee-shirt. She shook her head, wanting to deny any sort of reaction to the coming evening, but the physical evidence remained.
    It defied logic. Practically every new man the unit got tried his hand at getting into her pants. The more veteran members of the team would take bets on just how fast she’d freeze him off.
    But Brice Campbell could make her blush.
     
     
    “Time to move, Grace.”
    She tugged her jacket on and reached for the gloves that rested on the tile counter of the bathroom. Grace smiled as the black knit fabric clung to her fingers. Distractions from her flesh were annoying. Preventing her nerve endings from intruding with their limited perceptions was…comforting. Very controlled. There was a stability to be found in maintaining focus.
    She never blushed when she was focused.
    Grace climbed into the helicopter in relief. This dinner certainly wouldn’t last very long. In fact, she had half a mind to remain inside the black machine and refuse to see Brice Campbell again.
    But it would be hiding.
    That irritated her. It set flame to something that had been needling her since she’d faced off with the man in the hospital parking lot. Her hands began to sweat inside the gloves, proving her efforts to dismiss the coming evening as insignificant were a failure.
    Grace dug her feet into the floor of the helicopter to keep her body secured in her seat as Jacobs lifted the bird off the ground. He took to the controls with the enthusiasm that two days of down time had left in his system. The craft banked at a steep angle while speeding along the rise of the forest. Grace let the exhilaration of the flight fill her.
    The aircraft surged forward, propelling itself faster at its master’s urging. Grace enjoyed the freedom of the ride. It was a primal thing. The speed. The self-controlling need to not flinch as they sailed over a rise of land, pulling away from the ground. A lake lay before them and the craft hovered exactly one foot above the glassy surface of the water. The motion of the blades caused the water to run in waves out and away from the helicopter.
    Grace loved the way Jacobs handled the aircraft. Air support was vital to the safety of his unit. Jacobs wouldn’t travel very far from his bird for any reason.
    The clearing Jacobs aimed for was little more than an old logging road. Grace watched his face tighten as he considered the angle at which to bring his aircraft down. He touched the bird down and she pulled her helmet off.
    Refusing to go would be admitting she cared. So she opened the door and ducked her head down as she made her way beyond the reach of the rotors. Jacobs was slower to leave the controls because he had to shut the machine down. Clark and another man who had drawn the short straws tonight made their way into the forest to dig in for perimeter duty. Neither man was happy about their duty.
    She would have gladly traded places with them.
    It was just another blunt reminder of how little she had in common with the world around her. She was different, always had been.
    Tonight the air moved in lazy gusts among the trees. The redwoods swayed in slow rhythm as they waited for the moon to cast light over them. Despite the pleasure she found in the night, Grace was preoccupied with the exact reason for their visit. Lots of civilians had questions