Vegas rich

by Michaels, Fern

circled wide, coming up behind a Zero bent on sending Izbeckie to the bottom of the Slot's crystal blue waters. The radio crackled to life. "I got ten bucks says Thornton takes the first Zeke. He's hot on his tail."

  "That's a sucker bet," came Simon's reply. "Fifty bucks says we cream thirteen of those Zekes in the next forty minutes. Put up or shut up, Orlando."

  "You're on, Jessup."

  "Twelve more to go, Jessup," came Ash's reply. "Bandits, two o'clock."

  Ash banked left and dived down to engage one of the Zekes. The unblemished sky became a Fourth of July fireworks display as tracers and angry red meatballs erupted. He switched radio frequency, waited a moment, and spoke slowly and clearly, "I'm on your starboard wing, you son of a bitch. Startled at the voice crackling from his radio, the Zeke made a sharp dive to the right as Ash sprayed a row of holes into his wingtip.

  "Zero your tail, Thornton, hard left, roll and dive, I got him," Izbeckie's voice roared from the radio. Ash watched as Izbeckie swooped down behind him, a string of firepower-belching flames tearing off the Zeke's antenna. The Jap poured on the coal and whizzed upward, Izbeckie right behind him, but losing ground. The Zeke had the advantage because he could climb at a steeper angle.

  "I lost him, I lost him," Izbeckie grumbled.

  "He'll be back," Ash said. "Not today, though; you did some serious damage to his plane. He's got no radio to go in on. Good job, Izbeckie. Time to go down below and join the party."

  The free-for-all below raged on. The radio was alive with gibes, taunts, and the raunchiest insults known to man. Ash knew they were flying the wings off" the Zeros as six of them turned tail and headed back home. He changed frequency, hoping to catch Simon. Instead he heard a Japanese voice call him by name. His hand started to shake. "Speaking," he said.

  "I am Captain Nuan Nagoma. I plan on sending you into the Slot, where I sent all your predecessors."

  "I'm Jack the Ripper, Nagoma, and it's gonna take a better man than you to send me into those waters. Number one, I'm navy. You've been fooling with the marines up till now. They were just warming you up for us. We're the first string, but I don't suppose you know anything about football."

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  "I know everything there is to know about American powder-puff pilots."

  "Take a look, Nagoma, and tell me we're powder puffs. There go two of your planes now. Notice how neatly they exploded in midair. That's craftsmanship if I ever saw it. Nothing but pieces. Jesus, I forgot, you guys don't give a shit about your wounded, you just let them fend for themselves. To die is an honor. That's bullshit, Nagoma."

  "You're mine, Captain Thornton. I've taken out every squadron leader your people have sent up here. You're next."

  "Not in this lifetime, bud."

  Nagoma was spinning and didng, trying to shake .sh from his tail. Ash held on, growing light-headed with excruciating G-forces. Both pilots whirled and spiraled through the sky, bullets flying. The radio silence was deafening.

  Suddenly, Nagoma managed to outclimb .^sh and loop over him in a perfect somersault. .sh did the same thing and knew he would come out behind him. It was at this point that Nagoma wandered into Simon's sights as he rolled to the right to escape another Zero. A burst from Simon's six .50mm cannons ripped the cowling from Nagoma's Zero. Thick black smoke spiraled around the plane as it dived downward. It hit the water, leaving behind a plume of white spray.

  "You got him, Simon, you got the bastard!"

  "I got the plane. The pilot bailed out, I saw his chute."

  "That was Nagoma. He's taken out twenty-five of our guys. WTiat do you suppose the Japanese Imperial Navy will think of their ace getting blown out of the sky? You did good, litde brother. Time to head home and refuel. Those bombers are waiting for us to lead them. See you on the ground, Simon."

  It was the longest day of Ash's life, but at the end, when the sun was beginning to set, he led his squadron back to the Big E, knowing they had crippled both air bases. Air-Sea-Rescue had picked up Neil Tortolow, the squadron's only casualty.

  The debriefing lasted an hour, the weary pilots gulping at the black cotfee that flowed freely. "Tomorrow your target is Kahili. It's an island base off Bougainville. It's prime, gendemen. The group before us shot down Admiral Yamamoto, who is considered, by those in authority, the greatest Japanese military mind of all time. We're going to pave the way for another squadron. Our game plan is the same as before—we fly in, circle and draw the Nips out, then we're out of there. The Daundesses take over from there. You will engage

  if it is appropriate. There could be as many as thirty Zeros on the ground according to what Intelligence reports. It's possible they might not all be operational. The Nips like to line their planes up in a nice neat row to make it look like they got more power than they do. One last thing, Tortolow should be arriving shortly. I want a rousing na7 welcome. Every last one of you did real good up there."

  The tired pilots left the debriefing room in single file, some clapping others on the back, some mumbling to themselves. Simon started to sing "Anchors Aweigh." It was only seconds before the pilots joined in, their voices loud and raucous. More backslapping, more light punches to the shoulders, and then they parted, each man to his quarters, to think and to thank God they'd come to the end of the day.

  No pilot looked at the scoreboard tally. It was an unwritten rule that no pilot looked at the board until the total mission was complete. There were three more sorties to go.

  Ash held back, waiting for Simon. "Simon, I spoke with Nagoma. I switched frequencies, and there the bastard was. The son of a bitch knew my name."

  "I got him. Ash."

  "Shit, Simon, he bailed out. He'll be back up there tomorrow. Count on it. It's one thing to shoot down a plane, it's another to carry on a conversation with a guy who's told you right up front he's going to kill you. My blood ran cold. I had the shakes, Simon. I'm a damn good pilot, but that guy is better than me and you put together. He wanted to chat. Figure that one out."

  "I'd take that as a sign of fear. The Nips are big on saving face, everyone knows that. He has to live up to his own reputation. So he took out every squadron leader. He was lucky. Lucky streaks always break. Didn't you learn anything from Mom?"

  "I never had the chance," Ash said.

  "Then trust me. The guy's luck is starting to run out. I shot the plane right out from under his yellow ass. That isn't going to look good for him. Nobody, Ash, is infallible. Not you, not me, not Nagoma. I'll keep my eye on you tomorrow, for whatever that's worth."

  "I owe you, Simon."

  "Put it on the books. Someday I might want to collect."

  "Any time, any place."

  "I'll remember that. Get some sleep."

  The moment the door closed, Ash started to shake. He had trou-

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  ble making his legs carry him to his bunk, where he collapsed. He was losing his edge, and he knew it. He had to get it back. The alternative was to turn in his wings, which was unthinkable. With his foot, he pulled gut his duffel from under the bunk. The thick stack of mail would get him over this rough spot.

  He read his father's letters first, serious in tone and then lighter as he explained the chicken business in great detail in letter after letter. When he finished them, he read his mother's letters that were hght, witty, and informative. He moved on to Fanny's, putting them in order by date. Some of them he read twice. WTien he was finished, he felt like he knew Fanny Logan.

  Ash propped himself up in his bunk and wrote three long letters, one to his father, one to his mother, and one to Fanny Logan—his girl.

  Time to head back to the Big E. Ash flicked on his radio. "Head on home, I can nurse this baby in on my own. Fve had engine trouble before. I know it's standard practice to fly cover for me, but Fm okay and the sky is clear. Fll see you on the flight deck."

  Ash was just a short distance from the Big E. He eased down to 21,000 feet, leaned back to enjoy the ride. The day's mission had
gone perfectly. He'd been as full of piss and vinegar as the rest of his squadron, and it showed during the mission. One more day to go. He had his edge back now. He switched on his radio. "Fm coming home. Mother, have the beer ready," he radioed. All he heard in response was static.

  The voice that finally crackled over the radio was familiar and definitely Japanese. Ash felt his forehead bead with sweat. He sensed the Japanese pilot before he saw him on his wingtip. "Want to talk about the weather, Nagoma? Let's cut the bullshit, Fm a sitting duck, and we both know it. Where's the honor in shooting down a defenseless plane?" Sweat dripped down his cheeks. Thank God he'd written those letters last night.

  "No one would know."

  "You'd know, Rice Ball."

  "Is very true, Captain Thornton. We will meet again."

  Nagoma banked hard right, his plane pulling away. He offered up a salute that Ash returned.

  If one were keeping score, which Ash was, it was Nagoma 0, Thornton 0.

  Day three of the mission arrived all too soon. The day was clear, something every pilot wished for. The light cloud cover filtered the bright sunhght, something else the pilots prayed for. They were flying twenty planes in lines of five. Simon led off the first line.

  "Keep it tight and dry, and watch out for those wingtips. Stay alert for Zeros. They'll be coming straight down the Slot," Ash radioed.

  They flew silendy for close to thirty minutes. Down below, an American convoy sailed the clear, blue Pacific waters. Ash, searching for Zeros out the starboard side of his canopy, saw it first: a Japanese submarine.

  "Attack!"

  Simon needed no second urging. He banked and swooped down first, four planes in his wake.

  "We got him off guard. He's expecting an attack from the shore, not the middle of the Slot. Let's show him a litde Fourth of July fireworks. I'm buying when this is over," Ash's voice crackled over the radio.

  "He's going at flank speed; that means he's going to make a try for the convoy," Simon radioed. "Pour it on, boys."

  The first two planes strafed the sub with tracers bouncing round after round off the forward hatch. Ash zeroed in on the conning tower with two long bursts that struck the armor, then bounced off.

  "He's trying for a crash dive, get that sucker," Esposito's voice snarled.

  Ash flew in low over the water and let loose with a flood of .50mm shells that blew the top off the periscope and snorkel. He fired off another round, this time ripping a foot-long slash in the top of the conning tower.

  "He's going under, he's going under!"

  "He's coming back up. Get ready. Hit those clouds and dive down. That convoy looks to be five miles out. Pepper that deck, pin those guys down. They don't have enough guns to take us out. The convoy can clean up after us."

  Ten minutes later. Ash radioed the convoy to exchange pleasantries with the captain of the destroyer before he headed upward to join his squadron.

  "There's no action today. Captain," Davis said into his speaker. "I gotta admit, I never thought I'd help to sink a submarine. When I'm old and gray I'm gonna tell my grandchildren about this day."

  "The day isn't over, Davis. Stay alert."

  Ash changed frequencies. "Hey, Nagoma, you up here?"

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  "I'm right behind you. Send the kiddies home, and it's you and me."

  Ash craned his neck both ways and saw Nagoma coming in from the side but at a lower altitude. He tipped his wings and gave off his famous middle finger salute, then zoomed by and climbed into the sun.

  Twenty minutes later, Ash switched frequencies again. "We're an even match, Nagoma. We both know you have greater maneuver-abiHty, I've got greater speed, armor, and firepower. I'm a whizbang at in and out strikes. We can dive, whirl, and twdrl, we can jockey for position until our fuel runs out and neither one of us is getting off a shot. Our planes are gulping fuel at a decadent rate. Look around, the sky's full of exhaust. I'm almost out of fuel, Nagoma. I have enough to finish you off, and then it's in the drink for me. You too, I suspect. You want to call it a day?"

  "A superior idea. Just remember, Captain Thornton, you're mine."

  "Not according to my mother. See you around, Nagoma." Ash peeled off and headed back to his squadron and the Big E. What the hell, they'd junked a sub, that had to count for something. Not to mention leveling the air base on their first sortie of the day.

  Tomorrow he was heading back to the Hornet. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever meet up with Nagoma again. The Nip didn't know it yet, but he'd just lost out on his boast to take out every squadron leader of the Big E. Simon was right, the Jap's luck was running out. "Lady Luck, stay with me," Ash said breathlessly. He just might make it to Hawaii and Fanny Logan in one piece after aU.

  Christmas Eve morning, Fanny woke to her landlady's knock. "You have a Special Delivery package, Fanny. I signed for it." Fanny leaped from the bed and grabbed the thick envelope, certain it held bad news about her father or her brothers. Her hands trembled as she gouged at the flap, swearing under her breath as she did so. An airline ticket to Hawaii, and a note from Ash Thornton. The note was short, one page. "I'm here and I'm waiting!" Fanny almost fainted. She wasn't going to Hawaii. No way was she going to Hawaii. Only a fool would do something like that. Her father would kill her, absolutely kill her.

  Bare feet slapping at the stair treads, Fanny raced down the steps

  to the phone in the hall outside the dining room. She dialed Bess's number and waited until her friend picked it up. "I need you, Bess, come over here right away. Don't wait to get dressed, just put a coat on and ride your bike. I'm timing you, Bess."

  Fanny hung up the phone, squeezed her eyes shut, and dialed Devin RoUins's home number. The moment she heard his sleepy voice she said, "Mr. Rollins, this is Fanny. I'm sorry to be calling you so early in the morning. I think I'm going to Hawaii today. I don't know when I'll be back. I know the office is closed between Christmas and New Year's. I just wanted you to know. Thank you again for that lovely Christmas bonus and Merry Christmas, Mr. RoUins. If I go, I'll bring you a pineapple. Bye."

  Fanny bounded up the steps two at a time. She was just thinking about going, that didn't mean it was a fact. Only a fool would go chasing after a guy she barely knew, a guy who wrote one-paragraph letters, and who she'd really only had one conversation with. She must be nuts to even think about it. She was on her way out of the bathroom when Bess catapulted up the steps and demanded to know what was happening.

  "Oh God, oh God, this is so exciting. Where's your suitcase? You did buy that lacy underwear we were looking at, didn't you? You need summer things, where are your summer clothes, Fanny? You said you packed them in a box. They're going to be all wrinkled, but they'll get wrinkled in your suitcase, too. God, this is exciting. Liven up, Fanny, you look like you're half-dead."

  "I didn't say I was going. What time does the plane leave?"

  "In three hours. That's not much time. Are you scared to fly?"

  "I'm petrified," Fanny said.

  "You better get used to it, Ash is a flyer."

  "Three hours!" Fanny sat down on the bed with a thump. She watched Bess pack her bag.

  "Aren't you glad I talked you into buying all that stuff'at the end of the season? The price tags are still on everything. Jeez. Come on, Fanny, get dressed. Is he going to meet you? How are you getting to the airport?"

  "I guess I'll call a taxi. Unless you can coax your dad into letting you have the car."

  "I'll just take it. Mom's over at the church preparing things for the pageant tonight, and Pop's at the store. I'm so jealous. I wish it was me and John. We talked about it. Maybe for Valentine's Day. Take notes, Fanny. You are going to ride the waves of passion. They

  228 Fern Michaels

  say it hurts the first time, but after that it's exquisite pleasure. Do you know the one thing all men want most in this world? A drgin!"

  "Bess!"

  "It's true. I read it in True Corifessiohs. Some guy confessed a
nd then all his buddies confessed. Therefore, it must be true. They call it getting your cherry."

  "You need to stop reading those trashy magazines, Bess. All right, I decided, I'm going."

  "Attagirl. You are going to have the time of your life. Don't think about anything but the moment. Enjoy everything to the ftillest."

  "Okay. I'm nervous."

  "K you weren't nervous, I'd worry about you. You're supposed to be nervous. Guys expect you to be nervous. They even want you to be nervous, so they can be in control."

  "What if I do something wrong? What if he compares me to those . . . those other girls he's been out with?" ,

  "If he does, you'll win, so stop worrying. Do vou have every- I thing?"

  "I don't know, Bess, you packed my bag. Do I?"

  "Everything matches. Ten days' worth of clothes. You can buy some stuff over there. They have island dresses, they flow with the breeze and you don't wear anything under them."

  "How do you know that?" Fanny demanded.

  "I read everything that comes into the drugstore and that includes the travel books. Go downstairs and eat, it's a long trip. I'll go home and get dressed and sneak the car. You better hope Pop put some gas in it. I swear he's got some kind of secret gauge on it. He's got it down to the last drop."

  "Go!"

  "I'm going, I'm going. Thirty minutes. Be on the porch."

  "Okay."

  Fanny looked at her bulging suitcase. She was really doing this. She pinched her arm until her eyes watered. She wasn't dreaming. This was real. She was going to Hawaii on a whim. She was probably going to have sex with a man she didn't even know.

  Fanny knew, in that one split second, that her life was never going to be the same after today.

  "Devin, it's Sallie. I called to say good-bye. Fll see you January second. I'll be counting the hours. I'm sorry, darling, but it has to

  be this way. Christmas is for family. It breaks my heart that you're going to be alone for the holidays. We'll have our own Christmas when I get back. I promise you it will be wonderful."