New Mexico / June, 1958 / 02:24

[bingo_faced]

Nighttime.

The desert cooled greatly at night, especially nights as clear as this one. Lieutenant (J.G.) Al "Bingo" Calavicci wouldn't know the difference. Half the bottles lay strewn in the dirt while the other half were placed precisely, a practical lineup on the white edge line of the road. Off the road, in the dirt, Al's candy apple red

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[bingo_faced]

Al's face lit as she confirmed his suspicions about her origin. He tried his hardest not to immediately imagine her in a bikini, skating away with his attention along the boardwalk of his mind. Feeling the (ever present) need for a cigarette, the man leaned toward the road so he could fish the half-empty soft pack from his side pocket. "A whole lotta nothin'," which was probably why it appealed to him so strongly. That's very emo of you, Al

[bingo_faced]

The way she was favoring the one leg make Al wince. Whatever pain was there had been held over from the crash. Shaking his head, the young man leaned toward the door to see what he could see. "Dunno how long we've been here, but I don't think it's long. I imagine they'll be sending someone along for debriefing, though I can't quite figure for the life of me what you're doing in here."

From the john, he rubbed his hands at his head. He had a lot of theories as to why Thrace would end up with him, most of which were wild enough to not make it to his mouth. Whatever the reasoning was, he would find out soon enough. "I think they'll bring us a drink, at least. We're not dangerous criminals looking to make trouble, right?" He paused, head leaning in her direction. "Then again, that look you've got might be sayin' something different." If he didn't know better, he'd guess she was giving him a once-over. Did he change his posture and sit a little straighter? You betcha.

[anekanta]

On some level, Kara noticed the slight change. The sudden ridiculously inappropriate tingle in her midsection told her 'cute' may have been a gross misrepresentation. The man before her could be devastating given the right scenario.

Of course, none of that mattered to Kara (right?), so she merely smiled at him, her eyes definitely glinting darkly. "Think I'm dangerous, huh? To you, maybe." She turned from him then - if that hadn't caught and kept his attention for at least the foreseeable future, nothing would.

Still, she had much larger immediate problems than retaining her accomplice and ally. Problems like the guards opening the door at the end of the hallway. "Follow my lead, wouldja?" she growled under her breath, daring one last look over her shoulder at him.

[bingo_faced]

Now things are getting interesting, Bingo internalized, both hands coming up in submission. It didn't take a smart man to realize there was more to the situation than he might have initially guessed. He dropped his hands to his side and stood when a solitary young man closed the door. He had a pitcher in one hand, and two stacked glasses in the other.

Al had the urge to ask about his phone call, but rendered the lead to Kara as he'd (not quite) agreed to.

The soldier placed the water just inside the door without so much of a word, followed quickly by two cigarettes and a match. He then closed and locked the cell door and stood aside to guard them, hands behind his back.

[anekanta]

Kara pointedly ignored the provisions, presuming Calavicci would pounce on them anyway. She leaned closer to the lone sentry, wondering what she'd revealed to those in charge that had netted him. "I have to report, Ensign."

She saw the man shift his shoulders uncomfortably and she shot a grin over her shoulder. This was hand the line she needed to play. "Lieutenant Calavicci and I are due in a hearing in the morning - as counselors. We have to be there," she urged. It was a stretch, but at the very least, it could account for them travelling undocumented - Kara knew if either were called in to defend someone, he or she could be pulled off leave, and it could happen at a moment's notice. Finally, her court martial had paid off in some way

[bingo_faced]

Bingo didn't move, not even for the water and the cigarettes. He was processing Thrace's plan, taking apart what had already been put out on the table. Unfamiliar with Horovitz, Calavicci realized they wouldn't gain much ground there, so he tried a different approach. Standing from his perch, the flyboy rubbed briefly at his stubble, then added to the twisted tale, "Ensign, we're working against time here. The Captain and I are expected and if we don't show or call in, there are going to be two branches tearing you apart because you didn't give us our phone call!" By the end of his tirade, the Lieutenant was worked up, his hands going until he found use for them in collecting up the cigarettes

[anekanta]

Kara tucked the spare cigarette behind her ear and plucked the already-lit one from Calavicci's fingertips. She took a long drag, inhaling heavily. Real cigarettes after so many weeks without still tasted of manna to Kara, and she'd happily share fifty more with the Lieutenant - though she'd rather do it outside the brig.

She passed it back and sat back on the cot. Trying her best to sound unconcerned, she said. "It's fine, Ensign. We're not the one's who'll hafta answer when Lieutenant Calavicci and I don't show up."

The man reached up and rubbed his neck, and Kara tossed a smirk at Calavicci. Pushing it just a bit, she put in, "And really, it's definitely within your rights to knock two people out in the road and transport them to gods-know-where, isn't it? Especially two people who haven't done anything."

The Ensign turned, looking both stricken and pleading. "But the plane, Captain

[bingo_faced]

Bingo stood, though he didn't put himself at attention like protocol might dictate. "Uh, sir, that's actually a story best told by me." Because, what the hell, he had an extra day or two. Deftly, the Lieutenant (J.G.) retrieved his smoke from Thrace. "Just-" He lifted the filter to his lips and took a long drag, making all of them wait for him"Lieutenant..." The senior officer's voice came out with a warning tone, long and drawn out like the pause causing it

[anekanta]

All right, all right, she had to hand it to the man - he wasn't half bad under pressure. She merely smiled at the Brigadier and snatched back the cigarette. Taking a protracted hit, she mentally reviewed the various and sundry lies they'd come up with.

"He's not going to get access to my files, Lieutenant Calavicci," she 'reminded' her companion gently. She turned her smile on the Brigadier. "Yes, sir, he's telling the truth. My plane, I assume you've found it by now?"

The man turned a glare toward the Ensign at his side. "Yes," he growled, "we have."

"And how did you find it?" she asked smugly, no longer worrying about how different what was under the skin of that burnt-up bird might look to the United States (U.S.! That's what that meant!) Air Force. In fact, the more bizarre, the better for her.

"Crashed, Captain; we found it in pieces."

Kara shrugged and took another hit before turning the cigarette over the Calavicci. "I told 'em the pitch wasn't quite right."

[bingo_faced]

"You did," Al remarked and stepped back away from the scene.

The general seemed reluctant to trust either of them, but obviously feared the repercussions of delaying the two young hotshots any longer. He growled and turned on his heel, stalking out of the cell and leaving the door open behind him. "Get them their things, Ensign," he barked and left them all.

Calavicci grinned. "Bingo." Another victory, well-played. As an aside, he told the departing Ensign, "We'll wait here," and then fixed himself to occupying his hands by pouring a glass of water, the cigarette hanging from his mouth.

[anekanta]

Kara returned to the cot, taking a seat. She grinned up at Calavicci. "You have some experience at this, then?" She already knew the answer to the question, so she pressed on.

"Think they brought your car here?" She didn't want to have to walk through the damn desert on top of the morning she'd already had. She stretched her injured knee - it'd last, but for how long? She probably didn't want to know.

[bingo_faced]

"I doubt they brought the car. If we're lucky, they'll give us a ride back." He wasn't holding his breath. The last of the cigarette went to Thrace and Calavicci leaned his elbows down on his knees as he let out the smoke. He was feeling tiredness gnawing at the edges of him, but he was determined to press on long enough to get the hell out of whatever remote outpost they'd ended up in.

As if on cue, the Ensign returned with Calavicci's identification and not much else. "Have a nice day, sirs," he said sheepishly, then exited as if it were his only desire. Al flipped through his wallet and muttered, "Dirty bastards took a ten-spot I think. Or-wait, no, I definitely spent that last night on a sweet little number at the bar." He looked thoughtful but distant. "Didn't even get her sweet little number."

"Anyway, you ready? I think I can get you a little help with that knee." As if it was normal to go from one such statement to the other.

[anekanta]

She waved off his concern; her knee wasn't even the largest problem on her radar at the moment. For now, the only thing she could worry about was putting some distance between herself and wherever they were.

She got to her feet, forcing herself not to react to the flare of pain. She found ignoring it familiar if nothing else - after all, she'd done her best for weeks to try to fool the old man when she'd originally torn it out.

"The only help I need will come out of a bottle." Kara stepped out into the corridor. "You coming?"

//

She watched the plume of dust grow as the truck that dropped them off at Calavicci's car grow in the distance. Feeling considerably better now that she was no longer under such close watch, she turned to the Lieutenant.

"I'm guessing you'd like some explanation?" she offered, plucking the spare cigarette from behind her ear. She held it out to him for a light and nodded on down the long and winding road. "Get me out of this heat, and we can talk a bit more."

[bingo_faced]

For once, Al wasn't in the mood to argue. He reached into the car and retrieved the lighter he'd left the night before. The sun was beating down and the sun helped to deepen the already adequate tan he had been cultivating in Southern California. Sweat-glistened and loose-tied, Calavicci lit her cigarette and opened the door for her. "I don't think I can afford to miss this," he told her, honestly

[anekanta]

"Not as sorry as I am," she tossed back, but there was no edge to her words. Perhaps a bit of her honest grief colored her tone, but she couldn't afford to be angry about her Viper. She'd lived, after all

[bingo_faced]

Fulfilling his role, the Lieutenant (J.G.) took to the bar and mingled with the keep briefly. They exchanged few words, but it was enough to tell the young pilot he could get Kara a room at a quiet little local tourist bed and breakfast, effectively giving her an upper hand should someone come looking. Al wasn't sure why, but it seemed as if he was looking out for her -- like he was responsible since she came crashing down nearby.

When he found her table, he was juggling a pair of beers and matching shots. "These are for you." He shuffled down a shot and followed it with a beer. "You didn't seem like the martini type," he joked as he slipped in across the booth.

He was glad to be out of the sun but the darkness of the bar presented him with a familiar sort of intimacy. He'd spent many a night getting to know a beautiful lady from the back corner. "Here's to..." Al had to think. "To classy escapes," he joked, raising the whiskey shot in toast.