“But…but—” Luis stammered, starting to get out of his chair.
“Sit down, mister,” Snake snarled at him. “Where I come from, you sit and raise your hand. Do it.”
Stunned by the tall, dark-haired pilot’s order, Luis sat. Immediately. Shock was clearly written on his face. It took him a moment, but he hesitantly raised his hand.
“Mr. Dominguez?” Cam said. “You had a question?”
“Uh…sí, ma’am.”
“And what might that be?” Cam kept any satisfaction out of her tone. She silently thanked her sister pilots for their aggressive, intimidating stance. Though Cam hadn’t known exactly what to expect from them, Wild Woman’s and Snake’s behavior seemed appropriate under the circumstances. Never had Cam been so glad to see them as now. Already, just having them here was tilting the balance in the room to her favor. Now there were three women pilots, all skilled, and two petulant male students who clearly realized things were changing.
Luis wiped his sweaty brow. “Ma’am, no smoking?”
“Oh, of course, Mr. Dominguez, you can smoke. Once your flight marks hit eighty percent, you can smoke in your room or outside the barracks.”
Gulping, he cast a wild look of appeal in Gus’s direction.
Gus shrugged eloquently, his body language clear: he couldn’t get the orders changed.
“But—but—”
“No buts, Mr. Dominguez,” Cam said smoothly. “You perform in the cockpit, you get to smoke. If you choose not to try and become more skilled in flight interdiction, then I guess you’ve chosen to stop smoking for the time you are with this mission.” She smiled faintly. “Of course, you can choose to leave this mission at any time.” She picked up a set of papers from her lectern. “The necessary forms are right here. All you have to do is ask for a transfer and I’ll be happy to give it to you. All any of you need to do is ask.” Cam couldn’t help it; she gloated. A good leader probably didn’t do that, but she couldn’t stop herself right now.
Cam knew that neither pilot would take that option. It would shame them to their families, and being firstborn sons, much was expected of them. They were supposed to excel, not run away from something. No, she knew they’d tough it out, but down deep inside her she prayed they’d jump at the chance to leave.
Both pilots stared at her as if she were Cerberus, the three-headed dog from Greek mythology who protected the gates to hell.
“No takers?” Cam asked them sweetly, raising an eyebrow. “No?” She put the orders down on the lectern. “Very well. Then this means, gentlemen, that I need to assign you an IP for the duration of this mission.”
“Ms. Merrill?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I’d like you to teach Mr. Zaragoza the finer points of interdiction in the cockpit of the Apache.”
Wild Woman smiled, gazed at Antonio, who had another shocked look on his face, and said with great pleasure, “Yes, ma’am!”
“Excellent,” Cam murmured. “And Ms. Mabrey?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You’re to take Mr. Dominguez under your wing and teach him the more refined aspects of interdiction in the air.”
Snake didn’t smile. She rarely did. Giving Dominguez a glare that spoke volumes, she saw the Mexican pilot, whose ego was larger than the Empire State Building, begin to deflate. “My pleasure, ma’am. We’ll make it happen.” Her mouth twisted into a smirk. “Or else…”
“Excellent,” Cam murmured, pleased. She saw Dominguez go white as a proverbial sheet. And she saw the rage in his eyes, but he had the good sense to keep his mouth shut. With Wild Woman physically intimidating Antonio, she knew Luis didn’t want Snake descending upon him. And she knew Vickey was fully capable of doing it, too. These women didn’t put up with gender prejudice one iota, especially in the military world.
Luis raised his hand.
“Yes, Mr. Dominguez?”
“Er…ma’am…how is it we cannot leave the base? We have left every night so far.”
Cam opened her hands and gave him a stern look. “You’ve made choices that aren’t appropriate for good military training, so something had to be done about it, Mr. Dominguez. When you demonstrate to me, on a daily basis, that your flight training can maintain an eighty percent, then you will be authorized liberty for that night. Your curfew is 2200.”
“Twenty-two hundred hours?” Luis yelped.
“Mister,” Snake hissed, “you want me to come over there and rearrange that mouth of yours? Your response to our commanding officer is ‘ma’am.’ Got it?”
Gulping, Luis nodded jerkily. His gaze was pinned on Snake, who had taken one step toward him, her entire body suddenly tense, her hands tightened into fists at her side. The look on her face made it clear she shouldn’t be messed with. Luis had no desire to have this woman, who was at least six foot tall, come over and do something to him similar to what Antonio had just experienced.
“Sí, ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”
Snake gave him a narrow-eyed look. “That’s better, mister.” And she snapped crisply back into parade-rest position.
Luis sent Cam a desperate glance. “Ma’am, you cannot do this to me. To us!”
“Of course I can, Mr. Dominguez. It’s my responsibility to see that you three pilots meet our expectations. If you do, you get rewards. If you don’t…” Cam shrugged eloquently and opened her hands “…well, then it’s your choice, and your own fault. These women are IPs in the Apache Longbow. They’ve got three years of daily combat experience in South America chasing down bad guys who are trying to haul cocaine out of the country where they’re stationed. I assure you that if you set your minds and hearts to learning from them, in five weeks time you will become excellent at interdiction.”
Disheartened, Luis sank back into his seat.
“Mr. Morales, please hand out today’s mission folder to everyone? Chiefs? If you’ll have a seat.” And Cam motioned for her sister pilots to sit down at the desks at the rear of the room. Both of them came to attention and then quickly took their seats.
While Gus distributed the mission plan, the room practically vibrated with tension. Luis and Antonio were clearly in shock over everything that had just transpired. Gus was glad for more reasons than one that Cam was going to be his IP. As he handed out the mission flight plan and training techniques to be flown, he tried not to admit to the secret personal pleasure he felt at being in her company. The emotional wounds of his past ate at him hourly when he was around Cam now, and it was getting to him.
“Very good, Gus!” Cam said over the intercom of the Apache he was flying. As they flew over the mountainous training area at four thousand feet, she wrote down his final grade for today’s flight on the clipboard on her lap: a ninety percent. Sitting in the upper cockpit, she glanced down proudly at his helmeted head and saw his hand resting confidently on the collective between his legs.
“You get to go on liberty tonight,” she said, laughing.
“That’s great to hear,” he said, joining her laughter. Although he’d been focused on his own training, he wondered how the other two pilots were faring. Not well, most likely, but they weren’t in radio contact. At least he wasn’t. He was sure Cam was, as C.O. From time to time this afternoon he’d seen the other two Apaches in the distance over the mountains, but that was all.
“Well,” Gus said, turning the Apache back to the usual restricted flight corridor that would take them fifteen miles out over the Pacific Ocean, “if I get liberty tonight, do you want to meet me in the grove around 2100?” His heart beat a little harder in his chest. God help him, but he really enjoyed spending time with Cam. Her soft, low voice was always nurturing to him. Even when he made mistakes and she corrected him, she did it gently. She was such a dichotomy. Gus knew that, in the air, she could be an aggressive combat pilot, and yet with him that aggression was never apparent, just the nurturing teacher who shared her delight with him when he performed flawlessly.
“Sure,” she answered prom
ptly.
Feeling relief, Gus smiled as he urged the Apache to the required five-thousand-foot altitude. Below, the Pacific was a smooth, dark blue color, with rolling waves sparkling in the setting sun. “Business, of course,” he assured her. “I think we’ve got a lot to talk about tonight, C.O. to X.O.”
Cam finished her remarks on his flight test for the day and slipped the pen back into the pocket on her left sleeve. “Of course,” she murmured, “all business.” Sliding the clipboard into a pocket on the left side of her seat, she sighed.
“I’m going to have a meeting with Snake and Wild Woman at 1800.” She glanced at her watch; that was an hour from now. The mission they’d flown today was four grueling hours of nonstop training. Cam knew the two Mexican pilots were probably feeling like limp dishrags at this point. Or they should be if they cared. Only time would tell, after they landed and she got together with her sister pilots to be briefed on their flights.
“Okay. You want me to sit in?”
“Absolutely.”
“And then chow?”
Chuckling, Cam said, “You’re never far away from that chow hall, are you?”
Gus grinned and studied his HUDs carefully for other aircraft, authorized or not. “I’m a chow hound, for sure. Guilty as charged. Are you going to go eat there tonight after the briefing?”
“Yeah,” Cam said, relaxing in her seat and enjoying the ride, “I probably will.”
Gus couldn’t help but get excited. Cam was like an addiction to him emotionally. He went to bed dreaming about her. When he woke up in the morning, he’d hurry through his routine to get to the chow hall because he knew she always ate breakfast. From then on, he was with her most of the day. Usually, Cam didn’t eat at the chow hall at night. Understanding that she was stressed out about Luis and Antonio, Gus ate alone. Now that the new IPs were here, she was going to be able to relax and enjoy an evening meal. That made him happy.
“Maybe you want some personal time with your friends at the chow hall, though?”
Cam was finding Gus very astute about relationships. It was one more plus in his column. “Yes…I’d like that. At least tonight, Gus. Can I meet you at the grove later?”
“Sure, no problem. I imagine you’ll have a lot to catch up on with them.”
“Yes,” Cam murmured, “I do.”
“You really miss your squadron, don’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
Chuckling, Gus said, “Maybe just to me, because I’ve been around you a lot more than the other two.”
“They’re like a second family,” Cam explained, flexing her gloved hands. The sunlight was strong and bright in the cockpit. She was glad for the constant air-conditioning that kept the space cool.
“Judging from the looks in their eyes, they were glad to see you, too.”
Cam smiled wistfully. “Down at BJS, I’m the squadron mother hen. I take care of them when they’re sick. I make chicken soup and bring it to the barracks for them.”
“You’re a good listener,” Gus murmured. “I like talking with you. Sharing. I always feel like you’re there for me, a hundred percent. You aren’t just there in body, but in heart, mind and spirit, too.”
Warmth flooded her face, and Cam knew she was blushing. “Snake calls me Big Mama in the Sky.”
Gus grinned. “Nice. Yeah, that fits you, Cam. Anyone with an ounce of intelligence can see you care. You nurture others, you don’t take a pound of flesh out of them.”
“Well,” Cam answered dryly, “that depends upon the person I’m dealing with. You want to learn flight tactics. Luis and Antonio didn’t, so I don’t think Snake or Wild Woman are going to be very nurturing or pleasant to them.”
Gus laughed heartily. “No, I don’t think there’s any mothering coming their way right now. Just hell on earth. But they’ve sown the seeds, so now they’ll reap the harvest.”
“Yep, where we come from, we call it rubber band karma. You put it out there, and that’s what’s gonna come snapping back at you in an instant.”
“Well, I’m grateful to you for passing on what you know to me. I’ve learned more from you this week alone than I did in the ten weeks of Apache flight school. You’re hard, demanding, but you teach like no one I’ve ever encountered.”
“Are you bucking for a hundred percent on your grade?” Cam teased, privately pleased at his praise. It was nice to get some feedback.
Chuckling indulgently, Gus swung the Apache toward San Diego and followed the invisible flight corridor over the sprawling city. “No, ma’am, I’m not. It’s just that I feel you need to know how good you are at what you do. If you ever questioned volunteering for this assignment, you should stop that.”
“With the other IPs and a third Apache, I think we can get this mission accomplished,” Cam said. She saw the graceful arc of the Coronado Bridge on her left. Rush hour was upon them, and there were thousands of cars moving slowly across the bridge, bumper to bumper. She was glad to be in the Apache, above it all.
“Well, let’s see how Luis and Antonio took to their lessons today,” she murmured in a droll tone.
“Yeah,” Gus said merrily. “I can hardly wait for the briefing.”
The truth be known, he was really looking forward to meeting Cam tonight, as he always did, in that darkened grove. It was their quiet time together, something Gus hungered for and counted on. Did she? As he made a right turn for the downwind leg of their flight corridor, over the Mexican border once more, Gus wondered if Cam liked him at all. In his heart, he wanted her to. In his mind, when he remembered his tragic past, he knew he shouldn’t dare dream of loving Cam.
Chapter 8
“Who the hell gave these two dudes pilot licenses?” Snake growled as she dropped her report on the green metal table in front of Cam in the briefing room.
Gus sat with Cam behind the table. The room was barely big enough for a dozen people. Snake was visibly agitated, her green eyes angry slits as she came and sat down opposite him.
“Yeah,” Wild Woman muttered as she shut the door and handed Cam her report on Dominguez. “Snake and I are in agreement—the only thing they should have licenses to drive are tricycles. That or go to Disneyland. Take your pick.”
Squelching a laugh, because he knew it wasn’t appropriate, Gus said nothing as Wild Woman pulled out a metal chair and sat down. Blowing out a sigh of obvious exasperation, she ran her fingers through her blond hair, which was flattened from wearing her flight helmet.
“Hold on….” Cam murmured, quickly paging through the grades on each mission priority that the pilots had had to fly that day.
“I need a drink,” Snake said, looking around. “A double.” To her dismay, she saw there wasn’t even coffee available.
Chuckling, Wild Woman put her hand on Vickey’s shoulder and patted it. “Don’t let those two macho egos drive you to alcohol. They aren’t worth it, believe me.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Vickey said, scowling darkly.
“Here,” Cam said to Gus, and handed him Zaragoza’s graded report, “read this.”
Nodding, Gus took the flight report. He was familiar with this type of report because during school he’d been graded every single day on every single flight. After he’d landed, the IP would go over what he’d done right and wrong, and give him a final grade. Gus hated the schooling and he hated the grading. He always walked away from the cockpit with sweat staining the underarms of his flight suit. It was a tense time, and he had a lot of sympathy for Antonio and Luis. But then, he reminded himself, they had chosen to do things their way and not the army’s way. They had literally skated through Apache school because they were foreign nationals, and no one wanted to flunk them out even if they deserved to fail. Such was politics, he guessed.
His gaze fell to the bottom line of the evaluation: twenty-five percent. Quirking his mouth, Gus set the report aside and glanced over at Wild Woman, who was sitting back, her arms crossed, legs spread out beneath the table, studying h
im.
“Stunning figures, aren’t they?” she said.
“Very,” Gus agreed. He saw Wild Woman assessing him, not sure at this point if he was friend or foe. He wondered if it was because he was male. Gus wasn’t sure. He knew these women were a tight group, and he felt like an outsider right now.
“The other one,” Cam said dryly, and handed him Luis Dominguez’s report.
Gus quickly paged through it. Cam waited, her hands folded, while he skimmed it. Dropping to the bottom line, he saw that Snake had given him eighteen percent as a final grade.
“Well,” he said, putting the second report down, “they didn’t do very well.”
“That is an understatement,” Snake muttered defiantly. She shook her head.
Cam nodded and pursed her lips. She remembered her training at their secret base in Peru, and how Maya would bring all the pilots together afterward to talk about their flight. A part of her wanted to bring Antonio and Luis in, but right now her gut said not to. Unfolding her hands, she looked at her sister pilots.
“Give us the scoop. Wild Woman? Tell us what went wrong up there with Zaragoza.”
Rolling her eyes, Wild Woman sat up. “He peed his pants.”
Gus looked at her. “Excuse me?”
“I pulled a twin engine failure on him at five thousand feet, and he freaked out. He couldn’t remember how to set the Apache up for anything. In flight school, we always got single and double engine failure tests. Everyone has to know how to set the bird up so it can make an emergency landing without power. This is preliminary, basic training, so I followed your protocols, Cam. He blanked out. I was the one who had to do the recovery.” She shook her head. “On the ground, when he left the Apache, the seat of his pants were dark and wet. I figured out the rest.”
An Honorable Woman Page 9
