Weekend in New England

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Paxson Entertainment and Pebblehut Productions, with the exceptions of Dan Jones, Ruth Alley and Calvin Alley, who are my own creations.

Acknowledgements: Thanks as always to my several beta-readers; Nel and Reisa especially on this one, as well as Brenda and Carrie. Thanks guys!

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Bullpen, Hoover Building
Friday, 9 p.m.

Tara tapped the keys on her computer. "Got something."

Jack and Myles were at her elbows before the echo of her words faded. The rest of the team wasn't far behind. A frustrating Friday night looked about to get interesting.

"Dan Jones just used his credit card to book a flight to Portland, Maine." They'd been tracking the suspect for three weeks now, waiting for the man to make a move with the classified documents he'd stolen.

"When's it leave?" Jack asked.

"Tonight, midnight. United 876."

Just then, Myles' cell phone rang. A single motion of Jack's hand, and voices went silent. The blond agent let it ring twice, then answered it.

"Markham," he said in a crisp British accent. "James Markham" was the cover he was using as an interested buyer of the information Jones had. "This had best be worth all the runaround you're giving me, Jones."

He listened for a minute. "A bit out-of-the-way, isn't it? I'll find it. Tuesday morning, 10 am. Fine. My partner and I will be there." Myles hung up the phone and gave Tara a delighted smile.

"Our pigeon just came home to roost. Pack your bags for a weekend in New England."

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Taxiway, Dulles International Airport

Continental Flight 496

Friday, 11 pm

It was only a week after classified plans to a new radar system had gone missing from a local aerospace firm that Myles and Tara had made contact with Dan Jones. Unfortunately, the thief was being annoyingly wary about making a deal. For two weeks now, Myles had been playing the wealthy English playboy-turned-arms-dealer, with Tara as his assistant/paramour, trying to build enough trust that Jones would offer to sell the plans to them.

Now, as they settled into their seats on a slightly earlier flight into Portland International, Tara leaned over to her taller colleague. "After all this cloak-and-dagger stuff, going back to just sitting at my computer is going to seem deadly dull."

He laughed under his breath. "Now, you see, I knew there was an adventurer in there somewhere, football games aside." Then he looked at her with a conspiratorial smile. "I have to admit, covers like this are my favorite part of the job, too."

"So what happens when we get to Portland?"

"We wait for Jones to show up at the airport, then tail him up the coast to Camden— that's where this house is that he's set up as a meeting place. Lucy already set up a rental car for us, and there's a bed & breakfast on the adjacent property where we can stay until the meeting on Tuesday. That way, we can keep an eye on him until then." He snapped his fingers and gave her a smile. "Oh, I forgot. Our reservations at the B & B are for Mr. and Mrs. Leland— small New England town, trust me, there'll be a lot less excess questions if we go in as a 'legitimate' couple."

"Talk about your whirlwind courtships," she quipped softly. "I expect a ring from you, then."

Myles laughed again and reached into his suit coat pocket. "Sorry, I didn't have time to get it wrapped." He slipped a gold wedding set onto her left ring finger, then a simple band onto his own. "There. Better?"

"Much." She was about to ask him another question about the case, but he gave a slight shake of his head and finger-spelled L-A-T-E-R against her arm. Tara nodded, then leaned back in her seat as the plane roared for take-off. Staying true to their cover, she reached over and gripped her colleague's hand. Two weeks ago, a gesture like this would also have conveyed her nervousness; now it just seemed natural.

A firm, reassuring squeeze came in reply.

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In-flight, shortly after takeoff

He knew she was still a little nervous; the strength of her grip broadcast that loud and clear. But Myles wasn't worried. Tara had more than proven herself in the past several months, probably more so than in the six years she'd been in the Bureau. He squeezed her hand and glanced over at her, a fond look coming into his eyes.

There weren't a whole lot of female field agents; the latest figure, if he remembered correctly, stood at about 25 percent. And quite a few of those were in… less hazardous positions, like computers or video surveillance. Myles hadn't really given it much thought— Tara was as much a part of the team as any of them, and her expertise had probably solved more of their cases than the more "physical" aspects of the field agents' jobs that were usually left to the guys.

But after the incident with Crazy Loco, he'd come to realize she could pretty well take care of herself in any situation. Her tenacity in refusing to be shipped off to Minneapolis had impressed him greatly, and her strategy in planning the set-up that brought Gonzales down had been both cunning and bold. He'd never told her this, but he'd been rather honored to share the "bulls-eye" with her during the setup.

That he and the other guys on the team often took her as much for granted as they once had Lucy was tragic, and Myles had made a better effort in recent months to make sure she knew she was appreciated. It had to be subtle, lest his image as an arrogant hardass suffer (Can't have that, he thought ruefully), but it needed to be done.

He glanced over at her again— she'd proven herself splendidly on this case as well, and they'd fallen into an easy banter/flirt mode that made their covers even more credible. That Jones had made the "flirt" part of that a necessity made Myles want to deck him just on principle, but that could come later…

A sly smile stole across Myles' features as he looked out at a clear, star-filled January sky. Almost unbidden, an old Irish tune slipped into his mind…

O Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling…

Yes, Danny, old boy, he thought to himself, the pipes are indeed calling, and when the lady and I get through with you, you'll wish you'd never heard of Weber Aerospace.

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