“What?” Pete spoke Japanese, but didn’t know that. Perhaps it was Mandarin, but he knew that as well.
“The unwinnable scenario,” Big John spoke up over the intercom in his deep voice. “You gotta catch up on your Star Trek, boss. Lady’s got it right though. Sometimes you can’t win the whole game. But the people you just beat? Oh brother, I didn’t give us a snowball’s chance. I’m so gonna be rubbing this in Tim’s face for years. Years!” He was practically crowing with delight.
Tim? Pete decided it was better not to ask.
By the time they had flown back to the 5E’s hangar he was glad he had on his helmet with his visor down and a breather mask in place to hide his expression. He was smiling, and he shouldn’t be after losing personnel.
He’d fought them, watched them disappear right in the middle of a radar sweep, but he still wasn’t prepared for what he saw waiting for him at the hangar.
The DAP Hawk and two Little Birds that his team had “killed” were lined up there—every one was a stealth configuration. How had he not known those birds even existed? Not so much as a whisper.
Yet Sergeant John Wallace, and presumably his wife, knew about these people—not a snowball’s chance of beating them. That meant his crew had just beaten the 5th Battalion D Company.
Now Pete was definitely smiling.
They landed and ran through the shutdown in record time.
He did his best to school his expression as he stepped off the Chinook’s rear ramp, but he wasn’t having much luck.
Three women and five men awaited the members of the 5E on the tarmac outside the 5E’s hangar, lit only by the soft wash of worklights from inside the hangar’s open doors. They were lined up as if for a formal military review. The 5E formed up just as neatly in a line of respect.
The leader by the stealth DAP Hawk was tall with a long flow of mahogany hair; he’d met Lola Maloney of the 5D a few times. He’d heard enough of the others to identify the blond as Captain Casperson and the redhead would be the notorious Lieutenant Trisha O’Malley.
He also noted that the men who flew with them did not stand casually off to the side of their pilots, but instead stood close to their…spouses?
Two of them weren’t dressed like SOAR. They were dressed like…he knew Delta Force operators when he saw them, he just didn’t know what to make of the strange array. At least for tonight the 5D’s two Little Birds flew with Delta operators at their side.
Rather than lining up with the rest of Pete’s team, Big John walked up to the man standing beside Lola, wrapped him in a quick headlock and rapped his knuckles on the man’s head, hard. The other man struggled, but no one moved to help him. In moments they were both laughing.
Pete had heard the 5D was different, followed its own rules, but confronting the reality was far more confusing than contemplating it from afar. Other than John and Tim, who must be the guy in the headlock, the two lines of fliers remained facing one another.
“Assessment, Maloney?” Colonel McDermott strode into the breech before Pete could figure out how to greet them after the recent air battle and defeat.
“Shee-it, sir,” Lola Maloney offered a low New Orleans-accented drawl. “You entice away the best crew chiefs in the business and you expect me to happy when they kick my ass. Grumpy, sir. That’s my official assessment. Very grumpy!”
“I meant your assessment of your opponents.”
“Thought that’s what I just said, sir. But I can repeat it for you if you’d like.”
Pete had thought he was the only one who could get away with speaking to Colonel McDermott that way.
Lola stepped past the Colonel and came over to shake Pete’s hand. “Damn fine job, Napier. Knew you and yours would be tough and we thought we were ready for it. Guess not. Damned fine.”
Her grip was strong and he returned it gladly, “Anyone ever manages to take one and a half of my birds again, it had better be you. That was sensational flying, Chief Maloney.”
“Climbing out of Pahute Alpha, how did you—”
“None of that now,” McDermott cut them off. “Let’s first get these birds tucked away then I’ll let the chow truck out here.”
# # #
Danielle was turning for her Chinook when she spotted a change that she’d missed earlier. Tucked close beside the hangar was a white shipping container with a set of radio antennas on the roof, big ones. Two women came out the door and then carefully closed and locked it behind them.
She recognized the voice of one of them as they approached across the grass that grew thick alongside the pavement.
“Pete,” Danielle called just loudly enough to get his attention, but not the other crew members who were even now tucking the helos back into the hangar.
The two women had drawn close by the time Pete reached her side. Was he aware that he was standing as close to her as Connie and Big John usually stood, as the couples of the 5D had stood? No, because if he was, he would have shied off as he’d done dozens of times this last month.
“What is it?” She silenced him with a look and nodded to the two approaching women.
One was small with a straight fall of dark hair down her back. Her skin was olive-toned, her accent Brooklyn-Italian, and her walk like she was just daring someone to take her on. Her uniform was military, even if her hair wasn’t. Danielle, like many Night Stalkers, had taken advantage of the unique rules for Special Operations Forces, letting her hair grow longer like their SEAL and Delta customers. This woman had clearly decided to use that to her full advantage.
The other, the one she recognized, was a taller version of the first, except her hair, which swirled in great curls, stopped at her shoulders like Danielle’s and her voice had the round tones of Spanish…no, Portuguese. Brazilian? At least in origin.
“Ciao and Olá,” Danielle interrupted their intense debate about attack angles and flight endurance.
She’d nailed it when the women greeted her in Italian and Portuguese respectively; the Italian one continued over to the hangar confer with Lola Maloney.
“What?” Pete still didn’t get it.
“Listen,” she told Pete then turned back to the Brazilian woman who had remained behind with a soft smile on her full lips. “Please greet Major Napier, por favor.”
“Napier? Maravilhoso! I have heard so much of you. And now I have learned even more from how you fly,” she pronounced from with a lush, round frohm sound. “You were better than I have even expected.” Her words were a mellifluous flow that cascaded over Pete. It was the kind of voice that turned men into stunned puppies and it irritated Danielle that it looked to have done precisely that to The Rapier.
“Actually, Captain Delacroix was piloting the Chino…” Then Pete finally caught onto what was happening. “The voice,” he focused on Danielle and nodded rather than turning back to the beautiful woman right away. That made Danielle feel a little better in a way that she decided was entirely too petty.
“Avenger pilot, Lieutenant Sofia Gracie, sir,” the woman offered him a sharp salute which he returned even as he continued to face Danielle a moment longer before facing the woman. A Remotely Piloted Aircraft, as RPA pilots preferred them to be called. They became quite testy when you called their aircraft “drones.”
“That explains it,” Danielle confirmed. “We were wondering who was on our private frequency.”
“Si. I helped you and Kara, she has the MQ-1C Gray Eagle, and she helped the others,” pronounced awthers.
“Wait, did you say Avenger? I didn’t know those were even deployed yet.”
Sofia’s smile was radiant. “There is only the one. I make Kara,” she indicated the Brooklyn-Italian woman who had been with her, “so envious she almost cried. The Colonel McDermott sent me. He said it was a tryout. I hope I served you well.”
Danielle had many trite images of how men might an
swer that statement from this tall, curvaceous beauty.
“An excellent audition, Lieutenant,” Pete at least didn’t appear to fall for the trap.
Sofia nodded and looked sad, “I am sorry that I do not see them sooner. It was only after you broke off the attack on the tanks that I see them. The stealth you all fly with, it is so very good. I am very happy my baby Avenger also has stealth. We must not let enemies have any.”
Danielle hadn’t seen a stealth drone…RPA, and couldn’t wait. And the Avenger? High flying, long duration, and heavy equipment load, it was also the first jet-powered RPA in the entire American inventory—one of the most staggering pieces of hardware aloft.
She looked around for it, but there was no unmanned aircraft pulling up the hangar.
“Oh, they are still aloft. Our copilots,” she waved a negligent hand back toward the white trailer of the ground control station, “they wanted to practice more together.”
“Not just Extreme…” Pete offered Danielle a smile of acknowledgement despite the raw sexual power being exuded from so close at hand.
“E for Extraordinary,” Danielle whispered.
“It is not him,” Sofia faced Danielle squarely. “It was you that saw them first. I want to know how. How do you fly so fantástico and see them before me when you are supposed to be busy watching these tanks?”
Danielle shrugged uncertainly as Pete and Sofia inspected her, both waiting for an answer. “I saw something that didn’t feel right,” it was the best explanation she could find. The battlespace had been a gestalt, all the pieces as clear in her mind as on the inside of her visor. Nothing should have been changing outside of her primary target area, but it had.
“Oh,” the woman leaned in and wrapped her in a surprisingly strong hug against her generously curved body. “You and I, we are going to become such good friends that I will someday know all of your secrets. You see if we do not.”
Danielle had never been one to collect friends.
Pete was watching her with one of his unsmiling smiles that reached only his eyes, but shone from there. The man knew by now just exactly how much of an outsider Danielle really was.
Oddly after a month sitting side-by-side with Pete Napier, Danielle felt as if he knew her better than anyone she’d ever flown with. And she knew a lot about him and his family. Not a real close family, but absolutely a functioning unit; going through life together and supporting each other. She had tried to explain the luxury he had, but he still didn’t see it. It was just a part of who he was.
And now he was laughing at her in his quiet way, because he knew Danielle made friends very slowly and still kept them at a distance even when she did.
“I’d like that,” she turned back to Sofia. That would put him in his place. Besides, maybe it was time to stretch a bit and test out friendship—real friendship, not fellow-soldier acquaintances. She’d never find better people than the members of the 5E to start with.
“Of course you do,” Sofia linked her arm through Danielle’s. “We always need more friends. Come. We will eat together and leave this Major to dream of how much he wishes it was his arm and not mine linked with yours.” And Sofia had her moving along.
Half horrified and half intrigued, Danielle tried to turn to see Pete’s reaction.
“Not with the looking,” Sofia whispered sharply and tugged on their joined arms to halt Danielle’s turn to see. “You must make him wonder if I am crazy or if I am right. Do you know nothing about teasing men?”
Apparently not. And she didn’t want to tease Pete. Of course that opened up the question of what she did want to do with him and she had no answer for that either.
She and Sofia chatted amiably about the flight as they headed back into the hangar to help the crew chiefs.
Danielle did sneak a quick look back at Pete when she was sure Sofia wasn’t watching. He was still rooted to the grassy spot close beside the hanger where they had left him, still looking in their direction.
“He is still there?” Sofia asked while she appeared to be looking elsewhere.
“So much for being subtle.”
“You can not fool a woman from Brazil. Not even when she comes to your country when she is turning into a teenager. It is in our blood.”
“He is still there,” Danielle reported dutifully.
“Good,” Sofia nodded definitely and once more faced Danielle. “Then that is where you will find him tonight after all of us others are gone away. He will be on that exact spot, though he will not know it. Now, for rest of evening you will stay near women and we will all laugh together to make him even more out of his mind.”
She wouldn’t go to him. She wanted to go to him. Danielle did her best to hide her internal conflict and her surprise.
But Sofia’s smile said that it was pointless to try and hide such things from a woman from Brazil.
Chapter 7
The practice engagement in the heart of the NTTR, for all its stress and ferocity had been brief. The celebration meal had once again been set out in front of the hangers except the lush heat of August in Alabama had given way to a cool September night in the arid Nevada desert.
After several hours, most of which he’d spent with Lola Maloney and Cass talking tactics—again Pete was reminded that Cass had flown his way to his position, not politicked it, because damn the man’s brain was sharp—the members of the 5D headed aloft to fly back to Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Washington state before dawn. The area emptied as his team members headed for their beds in ones and twos; no desert disc golf course here and too tired even if there was. The last of them shrugged into jackets and left as Pete went to see McDermott off.
As they walked downfield toward Cass’ waiting jet, McDermott again offered him an opportunity to change out personnel.
Pete bit on his tongue for a long moment before replying, “I…don’t have a problem with any of them if you don’t, sir.”
“When was the last time you called me, sir, Pete?”
“Day you recruited me for SOAR, sir,” he said it again just to mess with Cass.
The Colonel continued to move slowly toward a waiting jet.
“We need to change, Pete. In a lot of ways. I’ve given the 5D a lot of leeway in the past and they’ve performed. But Mark Henderson thought he was pulling the wool over my eyes on every operation. I don’t need you to merely go out and be better than the 5D, they’re already doing that—outperforming themselves every damn day. I lost Mark and Emily and assumed I’d have to rebuild the whole unit. But they trained Lola and she’s added Trisha, Claudia, and others who are just as excellent in their own ways. They have two fully embedded D-boys to keep them on their toes.”
Pete had forgotten to ask Lola Maloney about that. He liked the idea. Delta were some of their biggest customers. He’d need to think about the advantages of doing something like that himself. Once he’d seen what types of missions they drew, he’d figure out who to approach.
“I need you to go out and find the edge. That’s why I’m glad you decided to keep Danielle. Every one of these people are very good, but she’s as exceptional as a young punk 2nd Looey I hauled out of the Army National Guard a lifetime ago.”
Pete kept his thoughts to himself about the lame kid he’d been back when then-Captain Cassius McDermott had told him he was being transferred to the 82nd Airborne and later to SOAR. Saying “no” to a fellow Coloradan hadn’t been an option.
“You’ve never made me regret that decision.”
“I won’t let you down, Cass.”
“I know that, you young idiot.” Cass was all of six years older than he was. “You need to make sure that your people never regret signing aboard with you. You’ve run rough over a lot of people, Pete. There’s gonna be a goddamn riot in my office when the others hear that I gave a new company to you. But I know what you can do. Don’t run rough over the
se folks, Pete. They’re yours. You’re in big boy school now. Prove it.”
“Yes, sir,” Pete saluted.
“Not to me, you dolt. I already know what you’ve got in you or your sorry ass would still be parked in the Colorado Guard dinking around the sky in an aging UH-60 with a bunch of weekend warriors. Now prove it to them,” he pointed back toward where the others had headed off to their barracks.
Then Cass climbed aboard his jet and was gone.
Pete wandered back toward the hangar. Stopped to look at the white control trailer for the Avenger RPA. Sofia Gracie was apparently one of his now.
He stood alone on the grass strip beside the sealed hangar that held the 5E.
His company.
It was three a.m. and the half moon was little more than a suggestion low in the western sky. The constellation Hercules was descending toward the western mountains as Perseus the Warrior began climbing over the eastern ones.
No birds in the desert, no spring peepers, not even any passing helos. The silence was so vast that a man could become lost in it.
“Hercules descends,” he told the silent evening.
“Sent to his labors for murdering his wife and children while under the goddess Hera’s spell of madness.”
Danielle’s voice was a body shock. He thought she’d gone with the others.
Pete couldn’t turn to face her, though he could hear just how close she was—her voice had been little more than a whisper.
“And Perseus ascends…” he managed.
“…flying to meet and rescue his Andromeda.”
“Danielle,” still he didn’t turn, though it cost him. “You should leave. We can’t…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“I know,” she shushed him as softly as a kiss.
He wanted. He needed.
“How did the others…?” There was no need for him to explain what others. The couples of 5th Battalion D Company had been around them all night. As comfortable together as could be. Comfortable in front of their commanding officer who turned a blind eye. Perhaps because they were already married. The Army was changing, but not that fast. Not so much that he didn’t recognize it or understand how—
Target of the Heart Page 9
