Silver Linings

slowly, “I worked for Jack Rainbird.” Hugh let his arms fall away from Mattie, and he moved over to the window to stare out through the rain-streaked glass. “It was not one of my more rewarding enterprises.”
    “What did you do for him?” Mattie's voice was soft and laced with deep concern.
    Hugh wondered how long it would be before the concern turned to disgust. “A lot of things.”
    “Hugh, this is no time to be evasive. I have to know what's going on here.”
    He exhaled heavily. “Yeah, I guess you've got a right. Okay, here's how it went down. When I got out of the Army, I got a job with a fly-by-night air charter outfit that operated down in South America. The guy who ran it would take any cargo, fly in any weather, and not ask any questions. The pay wasn't bad. And I learned almost everything I know about running a charter service from the wild man who ran that one. That's where I met Silk, by the way.”
    “He was working for the same outfit?”
    Hugh nodded. “Silk and I became a team. What one of us couldn't handle in the air or on the ground, the other usually could. Sometimes getting the plane back into the sky after making a delivery was a real challenge.”
    “Because the planes were not properly maintained?” Mattie asked.
    He studied the reflection of her frowning face in the window. “No, the planes were kept in great shape. That was one of the boss's two rules. The planes got properly serviced even if everyone in the operation went hungry for a while.”
    “Then what was the problem?”
    “The problem,” Hugh said quietly, “was that sometimes the clients did not want witnesses who might have snooped around the cargo. Sometimes the clients had enemies who did not want the cargo transported in the first place.”
    “I see. It was dangerous.”
    Hugh shrugged. “Sometimes. On the whole it wasn't bad work. Silk and I, we sort of liked it. There was hardly any paperwork, no dress code, and like I said, the boss only had two rules. I told you the first one: take care of the planes.”
    “And the second?”
    “Don't come back without one of the planes. Planes are expensive, you see. A lot more expensive than pilots.”
    “That sounds a little cold-blooded.”
    “Just good business.”
    “Planes are more expensive than pilots. I heard you say something like that to Ray and Derek.” Mattie smiled faintly. “But you didn't really mean it. You were just emphasizing the importance of maintenance.”
    Hugh's brows climbed at her naive faith in his basic good nature. “Well, my boss meant it. Every word. At any rate, things went fairly well for me and Silk for quite a while. We made a little money, did a lot of flying, and got the planes back in one piece. And then one day we broke the rules.”
    “What happened?”
    “We were flying a cargo into a very remote location in South America. It was supposed to be supplies for some fancy scientific research team, but Silk and I knew it was probably something else.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like guns. But, as usual, we didn't ask any questions. We just tried to do the job and get out. But this time we almost didn't make it. The plane got shot up. I got it back in the air but not for long, and we went down in some bad country.”
    “My God,” Mattie whispered.
    Hugh smiled in spite of his mood. “Hey, don't look so horrified. Obviously we made it out.”
    “Obviously. But you lost the plane.”
    “And our jobs. Silk and I were not in the best of shape when we finally walked out of that damned jungle. The jungles in South America are different from the ones out on the islands. They're a lot more dangerous. A lot can go wrong. And it seemed like just about everything that could go wrong did go wrong, from Silk picking up a fever to us meeting up with some folks who wanted to use us for target practice. But the worst thing that went wrong was that we had no cash left by the time we paid Silk's medical bills.”
    “But you got another job?”
    “Yeah. Working for Jack Rainbird.”
    Mattie chewed on her lower lip. Her expression as reflected in the window was very determined looking. “Doing what?” she finally asked.
    “Rainbird was the head of a group of professional mercenaries,” Hugh said bluntly. “He sold his team's services all over the world.”
    Her eyes widened in the glass. “You became a mercenary? A hired gun?”
    “Yeah.” Hugh braced himself against the shock and disbelief in her voice. He had expected both, but