3
Holly could always sleep on a flight.
Any flight.
Loud engines.
Cold steel decking.
Crammed up against a pile of combat gear.
No problem.
Her years as an operator for the Australian SASR had taught her that. Special operations meant never knowing when you’d get sleep next, so sack out while you could.
The habit had followed her just fine to the Australian Transportation Safety Bureau when she’d had to leave the Special Air Service Regiment abruptly. And still when she’d opted for a year’s exchange program with the NTSB because getting completely out of Australia had suddenly seemed like a really nifty idea. Not hard for anything to seem that way when your life had been totally flushed down the shitter.
But could she sleep here?
Now?
Mike?
No way!
First, she’d seen his taste
