15. Have to Know

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Gwen woke up alone, the plane had landed sometime prior. Sun filtered in the eastern window—early morning—so they couldn't have reached their destination. Next question, had they left her? No matter how many unanswered questions there were, the body wouldn't be denied. It was just as well, all her things were through that little bathroom. Relief came in two ways, all of their luggage was safely where it had been the night before and all of the sports drink had been eliminated.

She left Liam's t-shirt on, slipped the shorts from the day before back on, flipped the hem over her fingers, and shoved her hands in the front pockets. His shirt fit her perfectly then. It hurt to brush her hair, she did it anyway, it wouldn't be the first time she'd ever powered through that pain. The probability that it was the last was not great. The last few rituals done, she slipped out of the small bathroom to find out why she was alone.

Cooper was sitting outside the bathroom door patiently waiting. A note pinned to his vest read:

Gwen,

Stay on the plane, it's not safe to disembark here. We'll be back in half an hour. You have a security escort right outside. If anything happens engage the airlock and sit tight. There is a cell phone with my number programmed in Coop's vest, don't use it to call anyone else, please. As a last-ditch measure, look in the Pilot's chair but don't go in there unless it is an emergency and I mean that. Airmen are funny about that sort of thing.

Rich

Oh great, she was stuck on a plane in some semi-dangerous country by herself with a service dog. What a wonderful turn of events. How had both of them slipped off the bed without her notice and better yet how long had they been gone? Cooper wasn't on the plane when she went to the bathroom. She looked out the windows, no vehicles had gone recently. Gwen surmised she just missed him in her haste to use the facilities. She was alone, she could probably use her laptop now, right?

She looked around for it, the bag was empty but she found another note in Rich's neat handwriting inside:

Gwen,

Off-limits, too. Sorry. You have to wait until final destination.

Rich

Damn it. That man was infuriating. Always one step ahead of her. Paper and a pen would do just fine, writing down her inquiries would be prudent. She was likely to forget the most important points if she didn't. After a battle of will with the bags, she finally found what she was looking for! The small bag that contained her favorite journal. Gwen allowed herself to run her hands over the cover. The richness of fine burlap felt perfect in her hand. The first question was obviously about Cooper. Compared to Rich, her scrawl was messy, she was a little self-conscious about it.

1. How do PTSD dogs work? Can they help more than one person at a time?

2. Special Operations, who are these two?

3. What is Black Ops?

4. Call Corby. Question about Mitchel.

She slipped one of the notes Rich had written into the page to hold her place. That took all of three minutes. Still no sign of anyone. She was curious about what was so last-ditch effort in the cockpit. No one was here and no one would know she looked. Coop wouldn't tell anyone. "You're not gonna bust me out are you?"

The dog gave her a brief woof, walked up beside her and huffed into her hand. He was such a scamp. "I won't tell if you don't tell, huh? I suppose treats are going to be involved, too?" Gwen bent down to give him the proper attention he was looking for. She loved Cooper too much already, it would be a difficult goodbye. Treats dug out of his vest were given with a bonus chew bone. He was as bored as she was. He took his prize and laid down in front of the bed, he still watched her every move. "You promised! Now, you have all your side of the bargain, it's my turn. No telling." Coop thumped his tail on the floor in response.

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