by Laer Carroll
"Don't be. Be here at 9:00 sharp suited up and pissed and shit out. Because I'm still ticked off about what you said to me and I'm going to work your ass off."
<>
The day wasn't ended. There were still tasks to do. She had to get a flight coverall and other clothing and equipment. The most important was a helmet which fit her head perfectly and the optics worn before her eyes. She also needed a face mask fitted to her which would connect to the air-and-oxygen hose in the aircraft.
Finally a little before 5:00 she was done and could wait for the rest of her group outside the training building with her van and could take those who'd fit in it back to the Manor.
There everyone showered and groomed themselves and dressed in civilian clothes. They met in the Manor lobby and piled into two vehicles. Viking Boy/Tony had rented an SUV with enough seating so that all the Academy cadets could travel together. They went to a steak house in Del Rio which was highly recommended by several of the Laughlin personnel.
Everyone was happy at how well their day had been. They all had experienced little quirks that had amused and elated them. They had much sympathy for poor Captain Kuznetsov who'd drawn the straw for a mere propeller-driven aircraft.
She smiled at them. "I'm not poor anybody. I chose the T-6 for my first flight experience."
"You're joking!" "You're lying, Captain." "We don't believe you, Captain Kuznetsov."
By now the "Captain" joke had grown annoying. "Shut the fuck up with that 'Captain' nonsense."
"No," said the Princess, grinning. "You're stuck with it."
Jane gave her The Look. Kate sobered. She'd seen it before and knew that Jane was on the very edge of--something really unpleasant.
Jane stood up, her glass of Coke in one hand.
"Now, listen up, you bumbling crowd of incompetents who couldn't fly a fucking DRONE. From now on this is the way it's going to be."
The thirteen cadets had frozen. Jane passed her gaze over each of them. Some cast their eyes down. Some didn't dare to turn their eyes down.
"Every morning 7:45 sharp you will show up in the Manor lobby fully dressed in the proper uniform. You will show up after a full night's sleep and properly groomed. You will travel in my van and Mr. Andersen's SUV, in whatever combination you like.
"During the day you will perform your duty to the best of your ability. At chow time we'll meet in the cafeteria. Levity is permitted at that event. Shop talk is permitted. But no more of this calling me Captain as a joke. I either will be for real, or you can leave my company."
She favored them with a roving eye. So far they seemed going with the turning of their pretense of her being their captain into something real.
"At 5:00 sharp if you are not kept later you will show up outside the training center. I will wait no more than 15 minutes for any stragglers. When my van is full I will leave for the Manor. Cadet Andersen, if he chooses to continue acting as transport, may wait up to 30 minutes past 5:00.
"At 6:00 we will meet in the lobby showered, groomed, and dressed in civilian clothes. We will go to a dinner place every one of you votes on. I'll not voice an opinion on these choices. An hour after we return to the Manor we will meet in my living room to discuss any matters regarding our training. This will go no later than 10:00 o'clock.
"Do you understand?"
"Sir, yes, sir!" Lo, she thought, the power of conditioning.
"Will you comply?"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Good. Now eat."
A few minutes later she returned to the table with a refilled Coke glass and sat down to continue eating. To all appearances she was the same old self they'd known before.
<>
The next morning Jane appeared on the flight line just where she was supposed to and at the scheduled time. She thought the T-6 instructor might be deliberately late to punish her and teach her who was boss. He was there on time and acted like the complete professional while he checked out her equipment. Then he led her to a T-6 training aircraft.
"Did you learn all the material in the lesson plan for today's training?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. First inspect your craft."
Jane did so. He corrected a few procedures conversationally, not loudly.
After inspection they climbed into the craft. He oversaw her hooking up to the electrical and breathing connections, made another few corrections. Then he had her run through the list posted on the aircraft visual display of startup procedures, with her echoing aloud each of the items.
The instruments came alive, displays turned on. The propeller began to turn, slowly, then faster and faster. Without prompting Jane exercised each of the control services.
On this first flight her instructor would do all communicating with the control tower. He did so, identifying the craft and its personnel, its objectives. He asked permission to take off and the tower gave it after telling him to "Wait five" which turned into three minutes. Then he had her taxi to the runway takeoff point.
Then he locked out her input into the controls of the craft and took them over, telling her to keep her hands on the yoke and her feet on the control pedals. That way she could feel what he or an autopilot was doing, but could not interfere.
Another short wait and he could take off. He did so, speeding them down the runway faster and faster until the little T-6 left the earth and sailed into the sky.
Once in the air and at height he headed toward the southeast. He ended the long run to its planned end and returned toward their starting point. Then he gave control to her though he retained override control and had her repeat the same circuit.
He had her do minor course and height changes. As she sank into rapport with the aircraft he had her do greater changes until they began to go out of safe bounds.
That's the way they spent the morning, with a half-hour for a pit stop and to shake out their bodies while the plane was being refueled.
At lunch they spoke conversationally. To an idle observer their speech would seem to wander randomly, but a careful observer would have seen that he was educating her in the realities of the military life, especially in the air force.
The afternoon was a repeat of the morning, on maneuvers deviating wider and wider from straight level flight.
A little after 4:00 he released her from duty, apologizing for worker her "a bit too hard."
"It was not an ounce too hard. This was exactly what I wanted out of a familiarization day."
"If you wanted we could spend more time tomorrow on more advanced matters."
"I'd like that. Start at 8:00 like today?"
"At 8:00."
Then she had to find matters to occupy her till 5:00. She spent the time wandering the base, identifying and poking into such organizations as the credit union and the security contingent.
That night they had dinner at Chili's, one which had authentic Tex-Mex food and drink instead of the corporate version of it.
The work session in her living room was relaxed but engaged in the subjects in which each of the thirteen was involved. Asked about her day she merely said, "Lot's of fun but lots of work. My trainer is a bit intense."
<>
Wednesday was a day spent mostly on emergency procedures. The instructor spent an especial amount of time on deflecting and recovering from stalls.
After lunch he said, "You've got a good foundation in basic procedures. How'd you like to do a few fun exercises? Maybe a few acrobatics."
"I'd love that!"
The last of the acrobatics was upside-down flight for several minutes before spinning back to upright flight.
As they walked away from the flight line he said, "I've some time tomorrow. Want to practice some ground attack work?"
At her agreement he said, "In that case, study the practice and tactics parts of the training syllabus."
<>
Thursday morning was not in the sky but in a simulator. Then after lunch they spent time flying the same material in an actual T-6, one set up as
an AT-6 with dummy weapons.
<>
Friday morning Jane got a real thrill. For a couple of hours they flew attack runs with real ordinance: machine guns, missiles, and bombs. It ended mid-morning. Before they parted he ordered her to meet him at the base commander's office at 1:00, spiffed up.
Jane was a bit worried about that. Was he going to lower the boom for her insubordination, after fooling her about being so friendly and earnest about her training? It didn't seem in character. He was a very direct person. Nevertheless, she worried.
She was quickly relieved when she showed up in a fresh uniform, showered, coifed, and wearing very subtle makeup. The commander came around her desk after they exchanged honors and held out her hand to shake Jane's.
"Congratulations, young lady. You've worked some sort of miracle: made Bill a pleasure to be around again. I just hope it lasts."
"As I've told you already, Sir, after today you won't have me around to badger. I'm retiring."
"You are?" Jane said. "I'm sorry Sir. I didn't mean to blurt that out."
"We'll see," the Commander said to Jane's instructor. "Now, Cadet, there's one other matter I wanted to talk to you about. Major."
A major who seemed to be some top assistant came forward with a document and handed it to the Commander. Then the major positioned Jane and the Commander behind her desk with the major beside Jane and her instructor beside the Commander. A photographer urged them into slightly different positions as she took several photographs, then left the office.
The Commander sat at down behind her desk and motioned Jane and her instructor to sit in two of the chairs before it.
"What we'd like to do, Jane, is keep this ceremony private until the graduation day at the end of the Open House. Then you'll be free to speak about it to publicly."
"Of course, Sir." She knew the phrase "we'd like" really meant "we order."
"We want to announce all the several honors awarded during this Open House all at once. Yours is one the very special ones, of course, but it will make all recipients equally proud of their achievements."
"I understand. But what is this honor?"
She looked down at the certificate in her hands but couldn't believe it meant what it seemed to.
"Bill, you didn't tell her? Jane, this means that you have now passed a course of instruction that most candidates to this school take a full year to pass. You are now a Pilot in the United States Air Force, certified as ready to go on limited duty anywhere we send you."
"But I'm only a cadet. Not a lieutenant. I have three more years to go before I can be promoted."
"True, that's the normal course. But there are regulations to allow extraordinary changes in skill status and command status. Usually in the event of war, but not exclusively.
"This is not quite as extreme as a wartime call up. Barring a war, you still have to finish the Academy before we can promote you. Understand now?"
"Yes, Sir. Thank you for the explanation. I'm...overwhelmed."
"Understandable. But, now--" She stood up. "--I have other duties. Enjoy your weekend, Cadet. Again, congratulations." She saluted Jane, the opposite of the usual order of a courtesy exchange.
Jane hastened to salute the Commander, as (she noticed peripherally) did her instructor. Then in unison the two about faced and exited the office.
Outside it Jane turned to her instructor. For the first time she called him by his first name.
"Bill, I don't know whether to kill you or thank you. Why did you do this?"
He grinned, the first time she'd see him do it.
"First off, because I like you, Kid. Hate to admit it, but it snuck on me."
He sobered.
"There's another reason. Competent pilots, and most especially fighter pilots, are resources vital to this nation's survival. There are never enough of us, despite all the smart and not-so-smart efforts we and the Congress and the Administration try.
"A war, in the world's current and near-future state, is a possibility bordering on non-existent. But the possibility is not zero."
She looked at him.
"I understand. Go with God, Bill."
"You too, Kid."
<>
At the Academy the Superintendent who commanded it looked up from her desk as her Deputy Superintendent knocked on the jamb of her open door. She nodded and he came in and sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk.
"Boss, we've got a problem."
"Kuznetsov, right?"
"Yeah. You got word that they passed her on Basic Flight Training?"
He shook his head. "I don't see how anyone can accomplish in one week what it takes a full year for anyone else to accomplish. But the flight instructor, a very experienced one, gave her most of a whole day of tests on her last day with him. You can look the results. If he faked her success he has a great career as a counterfeiter."
She nodded. "Kuznetsov does have a single-engine license. That would put her halfway to competence in Basic Flight skills."
Her Deputy nodded but continued his earlier concern. "I can see a dozen ways this promotion can bite the Force and the Academy on the ass."
"I know. You remind me of this, why?"
"She may be a psychopath. Or sociopath. I can never keep those straight."
"You got this from one of your sources?"
In every large successful organization the key personnel have several quiet backchannel sources of information such as an old childhood friend or a favored niece or nephew. A sort of informal spy network.
"My little bird tells me that after just one week Kuznetsov has become the leader of the cadets we sent there. They call her Captain as a joke but they are deadly serious. She's the kind of charismatic leader that her worshippers will literally follow into Hell."
The Commander nodded. She'd known the type and history was studded with them.
"When she returns she will still be a lower-level cadet. Her behavior could seriously disturb the command hierarchy we've created. That's bad enough. "
He frowned.
"What's worse is this. Usually she's likable, gentle, goes out of her way to be helpful. Seeks people out who need a friendly word or pat on the back. Uncalculated, not like some to the bastards we both know.
"But threaten her, or worse threaten someone under her protection, and she goes still and icy--below icy--cold. My little bird said it's as if she becomes a combat machine. My source called her The Terminator. You know, like--"
"I know the reference."
"My source observed her in action once. She started this quintet, was part of it, managed it, left it in good hands. Following some rules she laid down they are slowly but steadily getting a rep, better gigs, have a recording contract.
"One night after closing at a sleazy club when the sleazy manager was paying their fee he threatened to withhold it from her group if she didn't give him a blowjob or whatever. He touched her and Bang! She hit him so hard in the gut he almost died."
"She IS one of those hard-bodied athletes we've got around here. I can believe it."
He nodded agreement.
"Then she threatened him perfectly calmly but so convincingly he almost shit himself. Then an hour later when he left the club she was waiting the middle of the near-empty parking lot, standing still as a statue. Just standing, looking at him, nothing more. He walked over to his car very carefully and drove off, slowly. She stood looking after him for a while.
"My source was petrified. Didn't dare to move even though she showed no sign of knowing he was there. He waited till she was long gone before he dared leave himself."
"If true, very revealing. Thanks for bringing this to my attention. Keep me in touch."
He nodded, stood, and left.
Chapter 10 - USAF Academy - Summer 1
The Lake
After the ceremony Jane walked around the base, stunned, looking around her but barely seeing anything. This was so out of the blue to her she did not know what to think.
Finally she awoke to her surroundings and went into the officer's club, ordered a Coke, and sat at a table in the almost empty combination lounge and bar. She had a number of arrangements she wanted to make.
At 5:00 she was waiting in her van as usual. She told Viking Boy to pass it on: Meet in the Manor lounge as soon as they arrived. She drove away but he was not far behind. Nobody wanted to stay late on a Friday.
"Listen up, people," she said to the gathered crowd. "We've worked really hard this week and we done good. I'm going out to the lake."
They all knew her reference: Lake Amistad some 20 miles to the northwest, a huge reservoir created many years ago by a dam on the Rio Grande River which separated Mexico from the US. Along the edges were camp facilities, some permanent and rentable, kayaks and powered boats for rent, and more. People came from many miles beyond the base and Del Rio on weekends.
"There are lots of cabins available on the nearer shore. I've rented one. Who wants to rent one or two more and make it a full day tomorrow? Get some hot dogs and hamburgers and whatever and get shitfaced and sunburned and play loud music and dance and meet some of the natives and, who knows what?"
Almost all said they were up for it. Two wanted to catch up on sleep and Skype their families and friends back home and do something in Del Rio. One was going to fly home for the weekend. In the end nine people agreed to come with her. Among them was Andersen, luckily, for his SUV would be needed in addition to her van to get them all there and back.
They started out early the next morning after breakfast at the Manor's buffet. Along the way they stopped and bought picnic and other supplies. This included swim wear and blankets and toiletries and more.
It was only a half hour trip to a flat dusty town named Lake View, a misnomer since the lake was a mile or so further north where they found Adele's Lake Camp. It took just minutes to move into the three trailers they'd rented near the lake. The trailers had indoor plumbing including a shower and linens and dishes and other supplies and even wi-fi for the few who would not be totally weaned from the internet. They were small but clean and comfortable. Everyone moved in, the three women in one trailer and the six men in the other two trailers.
