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He didn’t even realize how far south he’d gone, because at 700 kilometers per hour, in only ten minutes of the flight, he’d traveled over 120 kilometers. She was… “Tell me more!” He pleaded with the voice that was not Melina’s. Maybe it was the fact that he had someone to talk to, or maybe it was the way Melina managed to shadow his path. He was still hot, he was still tired, but not as tired. Robert Morgan sat leaning back against his old Spitfire airplane, wondering if he had made a mistake. That left Benghazi or, at worst, the road where the battle was fought. She fell fast asleep, thinking of the events of the day. Inherently, as he entered the turn, he had to slow down and Robert fired with all his armament at the airplane in front of him. He was sure he’d shot it down, but he didn’t have time to watch it fall to the ground, for the second plane got into a favorable position and strafed it briefly in passing,