She couldn’t appreciate the way the men had talked about how quiet an MD-902 could be.She didn’t care about the noise level. Flying closer to the ground would have rated higher on her value scale.One look at her face when they’d taken off and Tzader had asked silently, Are you afraid of flying?She’d answered, I don’t know. Never done it.When he’d paused then said he’d have the pilot let her off if she wanted, she’d refused. There was no time to bring in another agent and she wouldn’t abandon any team in the middle of an op.She’d survived much worse.But she doubted she’d have lasted much longer than the eighteen minutes and twelve seconds it took for the flying human-like creature to find home. Sweat had trickled down the back of her neck while the helicopter half flew, half hovered along behind the flapping creature, keeping just within visual sight for Quinn. Finally it glided down toward an antebellum house with a long driveway that tucked the mansion back from the road and casual observation.She watched Quinn who sat in the copilot’s seat, holding her breath until he said, “This looks like the place I saw in its mind.”Through sheer force of will, Evalle shoved the contents of her stomach back down her throat.
