The Tin Man by Dale Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

missions over the Formosa Strait, trying without success to keep China from devastating Taiwan with nuclear weapons—or that he and Wendy had ejected from an experimental B-5? bomber over central China, were captured, and were part of a prisoner exchange.
    “Well, at least can you tell me about this new company you work for? I remember you were forced to retire, because you came back here to work the bar—but then all of a sudden you’re gone again, and the next we know you’re in San Diego.”
    “I can’t really talk about the company too mucheither, Paul,” Patrick said. “They’re involved in a lot of classified stuff for the military.”
    “But you’re flying again, right?”
    Patrick looked puzzled. “Flying? What makes you think I’m flying again?”
    Paul gave his older brother a satisfied grin. Yup, he had guessed right and he knew it. “I remember your face, your talk, your entire body language when you were flying for the Air Force, bro,” he said. “You were one supercharged dude back then. You were
grooving
I mean, really getting into life! You look that way now. I know you’re all excited about having a kid and all, but I remember the only other time you were this—well, hell,
alive!
—was when you were flying, dropping bombs from big-ass bombers or flying some new supersecret plane you could never talk about.”
    “What are you talking about? What’s all this about secret bombers? I never told you …”
    “Don’t bother denying it—I know it’s true,” Paul said. “You practically salivate when something comes on the news about a war in Europe or the Middle East and the press thinks the Air Force flew a secret mission. Plus, you cut your hair—looks military-regulation length again.”
    “Mr. Detective here,” Patrick laughed. “Just graduates from the academy and he thinks he’s Columbo. No, I work for Sky Masters, Inc., and that’s all I can say.”
    “I know you, Patrick,” Paul said. “This company you work for, they’re involved in sortie real hightech shit, aren’t they? I mean, real twenty-first-century
Star Weirs
stuff, right?”
    “Paul, I …”
    “You can’t talk about it,” Paul finished for him. “I know, I know. Someday, though, I’d like to know more about it. I’ve always been fascinated by all thestuff you could never tell me about, ever since you were flying B-52’s.” Paul hesitated, and Patrick felt that old telepathic connection again. It sounded silly, but it was nonetheless true: His brother could tap his head and find out all he wanted to-know anytime he wanted. That was reassuring, somehow…. “I
know
you had something to do with what happened to that aircraft carrier, and that nuclear attack on Guam,” Paul went on. “I got the same feeling when I heard those stories about the conflict in Europe between Russia and Lithuania, and earlier with China and the Philippines. You were there both times. You were up to your elbows in it.”
    “Someday, maybe I can tell you,” Patrick said with a smile. “Right now, all I can tell you is this: It’s
really
cosmic.”
    “Well, be sure to let me know when you invent a phaser and force field for cops on the beat,” Paul said, clapping his brother warmly on the shoulder before heading off to make another circuit of the room. “I’ll be first in line to try them out.”
    H er touch was light and soothing, loving and caring—but her hand was warm and moist, and as if a Klaxon had suddenly gone off, Patrick was instantly awake. “Wendy?”
    “I love you, sweetheart,” she answered.
    Patrick pushed himself up and peered at the red LED numerals of the clock on the nightstand; it read 5:05 A.M . He turned on his bedside light. Wendy was sitting upright in bed, her right hand still touching him, her left hand gently rubbing her belly. “Are you okay?” he asked.
    “I’m fine.”
    But she obviously wasn’t fine. “Are you having contractions?”
    “Oh,
yes,”
she replied, and he heard a