Free Skyfire by Mack Maloney Page A

away from Nova Scotia," Hunter replied. "Sounds like whoever is on the loose up there would cut him up and eat him for breakfast."
    Yaz took a hefty gulp of his own spiked coffee.
    "Jones was back and forth on whether I should even come out here and tell you all this," he said to Hunter. "I mean, I'm the last one in the world who'd want to screw
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    up your . .. well, your vacation. But. .."
    Hunter held up his hand. "It's okay," he told Yaz.
    Yaz nodded, but he could sense the disappointment in Hunter's voice. He felt like the guy who'd just crashed a birthday party, or more accurately, a honeymoon.
    "Well, Jones figured you'd want to know," he went on. "He wrote it all up in a report that I have in my pack. Forty-two pages of it."
    Hunter poured out three more cups of coffee.
    "And?" he asked.
    "And," Yaz replied somewhat sheepishly, "he thought that maybe you could read it over, help us figure it all out.. ."
    Hunter immediately looked over at Dominique, who was staring right back at him. With just one glance, he read volumes in her eyes.
    "Well, the problem is that we're trying to make this more than just a
    'vacation,' Yaz," Hunter told him. "It's more like a retirement."
    "I know," Yaz replied. "And Jones knows that, too. I realize you're out of the business, and I don't blame you. But there's just so many strange things going on . . ."
    Hunter barely suppressed a laugh. "So what else is new?" he asked.
    They sat in silence for several moments. Then Hunter took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
    "Okay, I'll make a deal with you," he said finally. "I'll read the report, roll it all over for a few days, and then let you know what comes out. How's that?"
    Yaz could only shrug. "Well, that's great," he replied. "I mean I'm sure Jones didn't expect you to lead the charge, exactly."
    "Well then, it's settled," Hunter said with a smile. "I'll be like an adviser.
    A big-shot consultant. And of course, you'll have to stick around here for a while, you know, to help me sort it out."
    Yaz looked up at him and scratched his head.
    "Jesuzz, I don't know, Hawk," he said worriedly.
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    "Jones thought I'd shoot out here and then go right back-either with or without you. He's expecting me back tomorrow."
    Hunter cheerfully waved away Yaz's protests.
    "When's the last time you took a few days off?" he asked his friend.
    Yaz shook his head. "I can't remember back that far."
    At that point, Hunter grinned and poured him another cup of coffee, thereby signaling that the debate was over.
    Dominique reached over and placed her hand on Yaz's shoulder.
    "Like it or not, Yaz," she said sweetly, "it looks like you're the one who's going to take a vacation . . ."
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Chapter Fifteen
Near Boston Two days later
    His name was Jack Stallion, and as he gazed out from his office atop the fifty-foot-high tower, he was reminded once again that he was a man with a lot of responsibilities.
    Stretched before him, looking like a field of enormous tuna fish cans, were twelve huge fuel storage tanks, each one painted in a distinctive pearl white.
    Contained in the tanks was more than one hundred-thousand gallons of a highly volatile kerosene product known as JP-8 to the experts, jet fuel to the layman.
    As such, the dozen tanks of JP-8 represented the largest concentration of jet engine fuel in the northeast part of America.
    Like many things in the first few years after the Big War, jet fuel had been at a premium. But as the country gradually recovered, reserves of the precious JP-8 grew, as did its use. The increase in jet flights from the East Coast to the West and vice versa-the massive air convoys now contained as many as seventy or eighty airplanes - demanded continuous production of the JP-8 at a half dozen refineries on the eastern seaboard. This one, located on the shore just north of Boston in a small city called Revere, was one of the largest because of its proximity to the Hub's huge airport.
    And to a certain degree, Jack Stallion was the