Tension bled out of Dana. She knew she had a friend in Parker, and she was grateful for the information about Griff. “I—thanks, Parker.”
“You got a little problem with airsickness?” With a groan, Dana said, “It’s not a little problem.” “It’ll go away, Miss Coulter. Don’t you worry about it.” He watched Griff in the distance. “Be strong for him. If you are, he won’t fail you.”
Strong. Dana quietly thanked Parker and dragged herself back to the ready-room locker area. How could she maintain this degree of high emotional drama every other day and survive? The last hour had been accomplished on nothing but pure adrenaline. Suddenly, Dana was whipped. After taking a hot shower and changing into her summer uniform, she felt numb. Forcing herself to move, she hurried to make her class on egress procedure.
***
Griff watched Dana critically as she circled the trainer Friday morning. She looked pale as hell. Her hands shook as she took the discrepancy log from Parker and signed it off. Guilt nagged at him. He’d made up his mind that if she was airsick today, he was going to force her to quit. Still, the stubborn set of her mouth and her blue eyes armed with challenge gave him second thoughts. He’d find out soon enough if the airsickness problem was going to gradually fade away, or remain.
Dana was all business in the cockpit. She’d barely slept the past two nights, having nightmares about getting a 1.9 from Griff for not landing correctly. Worse, she was in a heightened state of panic about her airsickness. Manny had told her that a lot of other students had acute airsickness and had gotten over it. Ignoring the building cumulus hanging around the airport, Dana concentrated on the takeoff. It was perfect! As she had done so many times throughout her restless nights of sleep, she automatically went through the motions of flying. Griff was deadly quiet, but Dana had come to expect that—until she did something wrong. Then he’d leap on her without mercy. Would she get sick? Griff would Board her if she did, and he’d have a right to do it. There was nothing she could do to appeal his decision.
To her delight, the takeoff had been uneventful. Only silence sounded in the headphones. Dana was about to ask what he wanted her to do when he said, “Touch and go’s, Coulter.”
The battle lines were drawn. The trainer shook and shuddered as it hit a series of air pockets.
“Level it out!”
Immediately Dana corrected, getting the wings level again.
“You’re too high!”
Her gaze shot to the altimeter. She was thirty feet above the correct altitude. Down went the nose.
“Make it smoother, Coulter. Don’t jerk my plane around like that.”
His plane. Dana wanted to cram it down his throat. Her stomach rolled ominously as she entered another series of airpockets. She called the tower for landing permission and got it. Other trainers were about a quarter mile in front of and behind her. The turbulence of being so close to other planes was increasing by the second. Dana pulled back in the throttle and tried to stop closing in on the other aircraft. Why was it slowing down? Stymied, she got into trouble because with loss of power, the trainer began to lose altitude.
“Get this plane up to altitude!” Griff snapped.
Dana pushed the throttle forward. “But we’re closing too fast on that other trainer!”
“He’ll get out of your way in time,” Griff drawled. “Just stay in line and don’t screw it up.”
The trainer hit another violent air pocket. Dana became just as violently ill. She heard Griff curse and take the controls from her, yanking the trainer around in a tight bank and taking them out of the landing pattern.
“That’s it, Coulter!”
Gripping her stomach, Dana gasped, “No it’s not!”
“Ensign, you’re grounded.”
Despair washed over Dana as Turcotte landed the plane and taxied them back to the ramp. Anger overwhelmed her as they descended from the aircraft. Parker gave them a worried look but said nothing, going to service the trainer. Griff stalked off without a word. Dana ran to catch up, gripping his arm.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re going to do?”
Griff wheeled around. “Ensign, you are a medical liability. I intend to recommend to the Board that you be relieved of your student status and sent somewhere else. Face it: You’re cut out to be a swimmer, not a flyer.”
Enraged, Dana leaped forward, jabbing her finger into his broad chest. “Lieutenant, I’m not Carol Turcotte.”
Griff blinked, assimilating her tortured cry. He saw the tears in Dana’s eyes and winced.
“I’m not weak, and I’m not a quitter. And I wasn’t born with a damn silver spoon in my mouth, either. I expect to earn my way through life. Do you understand me? And I’ll be damned if a pigheaded instructor who’s angry over his divorce is going to nail me in order to get even! Do we understand each other, mister?” The tone of voice she took was that of an upperclassman to a plebe back at the academy. Griff looked as if he were in shock.
Dana backed off. “I intend to go to Dr. Collins right now and tell him about my airsickness. If you try and hang me before I get an official response from him, I’ll slap you and VT2 with a sexual-harassment suit it will never survive.”
Griff studied her in angry silence. Technically, Dana was correct. But dammit, she’d dragged up Carol’s name and thrown it into the arena of their combat issues. God, but Dana was a fighter. Admiration warred with his fury. “You do that, Ensign. Have Dr. Collins call me with his assessment.”
She eyed him warily. “And if he okays me for flight status?”
“Then we fly.”
“What kind of grade am I getting today?” Griff almost smiled. Dana never let up. If he’d been in her shoes, he’d have asked the very same question. “Incomplete.”
“Fair enough.” Dana started to walk away. “Ensign?”
Halting, she turned slowly in his direction. “Yes, sir?”
“Don’t ever bring up my wife’s name again.”
“Then don’t ever compare me to her again.” Dana saw her comment hit him like a bomb. Taking advantage of the silence, she added, “Try to see me as Dana Coulter—not every other woman in your life.”
Griff pondered their angry exchange as he watched Dana walk away. He was furious with her; and yet, her strength was something he’d never encountered in any woman, except perhaps his mother. Behind him, he heard Parker begin to service the trainer. The crew chief was young, but enthusiastic about his duties.
“Parker?”
The crew chief was at the top of the ladder. “Yes, sir?”
Griff walked back over toward the plane. “You’ve been here at Whiting how long?”
“Almost three years, Mr. Turcotte.”
“And you’ve seen a lot of flight students come and go?”
With a smile, Parker nodded. “Plenty of them, sir.”
Griff mulled over his next question. Ordinarily, he’d never consult an enlisted person about one of his students, but he needed a double check on Dana.
“What’s your assessment of Ensign Coulter?”
“She’s got what it takes, sir.”
“No question in your mind?”
Parker’s smile broadened. “Sir, despite her being sick, she’s flying well. I was watching the two of you in the flight pattern earlier. If she can hang in there, I think she’ll do it. Don’t you?”
Griff scowled. “I don’t know, Parker. Thanks…” And he turned away, heading back to the ready room. Parker’s enthusiasm over Dana dampened him considerably. The crew chief had a lot of time around Whiting, and had worked with more students than Griff had on the walk-around. Griff knew from his own experience that enlisted people with time in grade often knew more than the officer in charge. Disgruntled, he walked past the sentry, flashing his identification. What would the flight surgeon recommend on Dana’s case? Would he ground her? Griff sincerely hoped so.
***
“Ensign, you’re suffering from acute airsickness,” Dr. Collins
said.
Relief made Dana sag against her chair, across the desk from the officer. “When will it go away?”
Collins shrugged. “It’s different for everyone. I’d say that in another week or so you’ll be over the worst of it.”
“What will make it go away faster?”
“More flights.”
Dana grinned. “You’re serious?”
Collins smiled back and rubbed the bridge of his prominent nose. “Word’s gone around about the battle between you and Lieutenant Turcotte.”
“It’s more like a war, sir.”
“He’s an excellent instructor with a lot of pressure on him recently.”
Dana studied the doctor and realized he wasn’t going to say anything more. “Well, sir, I don’t think there’s a student here who isn’t under equal pressure.”
“I would agree with you, Ensign.”
“So your prescription for me?”
“Fly every day until you get over the airsickness.”
“Will you put that in writing?”
Collins’s grin widened. “Yes, I will.”
***
On the way to the chow hall at noon, Dana met Molly. Maggie was still out on a flight.
“Hey, did I hear some scuttlebutt about the Turk!” Molly told her conspiratorially after they sat down at the table to eat.
Still upset from the morning flight with Griff, Dana picked at the fried chicken in front of her. The chow hall rang with talk but little laughter. Flying was serious business, and the students were low-key and uptight.
“What did you hear?”
“I was over at the library earlier and read an article in the newspaper. Two and a half weeks ago a Lieutenant Toby Lammerding was killed in an air accident over at Pensacola. He was teaching a woman student to fly.” Molly frowned. “It mentioned in the article that Griff Turcotte was a close friend to Toby’s family and would deliver the eulogy in Atlanta, Georgia, at his funeral. Get this, Dana: The day you tangled at the airport with that thief was the day Turcotte was coming back from his best friend’s funeral.”
“My God,” Dana whispered. Rapidly the pieces fell into place. “His wife divorced him six months ago. His best friend was killed while teaching a woman student a few weeks ago.” Shutting her eyes tightly, Dana added, “No wonder he’s having trouble dealing with me. I’m Carol and I’m the woman who killed his best friend all wrapped up into one.”
“From the sounds of it, Turcotte’s got a lot of anger and grief bottled up inside him. It looks like he’s taking it out on you.”
Opening her eyes, Dana stared over at her friend. Miraculously, all her anger toward Griff dissolved. In its place was a heart-rending pain for the loads he carried. “I’m glad you told me this, Molly.”
“I don’t know if it will help,” she said doubtfully, digging into her chef’s salad.
“Oh, it will,” Dana replied softly. Grief and pain were things she understood well. She’d seen her mother carry awful loads alone. And Dana had struggled with her own load because of her father. “Men don’t handle crying or letting loose of feelings very well.”
“So he’s aiming it at you.”
“Yes.”
With a grimace, Molly stopped eating, the fork poised midway to her mouth. “What are you going to do?”
With a sigh, Dana shrugged. “I just threw his ex-wife’s name at him this morning.”
“Ouch.”
“God, why didn’t I figure it out sooner?”
“Give me a break, Dana. No one in their right mind could have guessed all that had happened to Turcotte. For all we knew, he was born that way.”
Dana shook her head sadly. “No, I should have taken my cue about him at the airport. He was so kind and—gentle.”
“Men can be, occasionally,” Molly teased.
“My experience differs from yours, remember?”
“Roger that. Still, I think Turcotte’s trying to be fair with you under the circumstances.”
Dana gave her a flat look. “Oh?”
“He gave you an incomplete today. If he was really riding roughshod, he’d have Boarded you. And what about Wednesday? He gave you a second chance on landings.”
“Only because I fought back, Molly. The man thrives on waging war. You shouldn’t have to scream and yell at someone to get through to them.”
“Maybe that’s the only thing he respects right now—your ability to match him, blow for blow.”
Dana sat grimly, her appetite gone. What a lousy situation to be caught in. She was struggling with her own body so that she could get a decent shot at her wings. On top of that, Griff had been wounded in action twice. Mortally, from the looks of it. And like most men, he’d bottled up his emotions and wasn’t dealing well with the rest of the world as a result. Except, she was his world and the focus of his anger. There was no easy answer. All she could do was persevere, try to keep her temper and not screw up at the controls. She couldn’t give Griff reasons to lash out at her. Dr. Collins had said more flying would help. What was Griff going to do when she handed him the sick chit ordering him to fly with her daily?
Chapter Six
Dana resolved not to allow her own defensiveness and anger to surface around Griff. God knew, the man would test and push her beyond her known limits of patience and endurance. He already had. Taking the sick chit to his office, Dana inhaled deeply before knocking and entering.
Griff was at his desk, as usual, piles of paperwork neatly stacked at both elbows. Dana supposed one was the In file, the other the Out. When he looked up, his face darkened. She came to attention.
“Ensign Coulter reporting as ordered,” she said. She put the chit down in front of him, then came to parade rest in front of his desk. Griff’s expression changed considerably when he read Collins’s medical report.
“You’re to fly every day?” he muttered incredulously. Normally, an instructor had three students, each flying three days a week. That left the IPs time on the other two days to corral and process the mountains of paperwork demanded of them. Not only that, but Griff had classes to prepare for and teach, and tests to grade. The two students he’d washed out had already been replaced with two new candidates. What was Collins doing?
“Yes, sir. The doctor felt my airsickness is a passing thing, and that the more flying time I get in now, the sooner I’ll get over it.” Dana hoped he couldn’t hear her heart pounding in her chest. She watched his brows knit with obvious dissatisfaction. A large part of her felt sorry for him.
“This can’t be right!” Griff threw a glance up at her. “Wait outside, Coulter.”
“Yes, sir.” Dana turned and left, guessing that he’d call Collins.
Griff waited impatiently for the doctor to come to the sick-bay phone.
“Collins speaking.”
“Doctor, this is Lieutenant Griff Turcotte.”
“Ah, yes. You’re calling about Ensign Coulter, no doubt.”
“I am. Since when have you ordered an airsick student to fly every day? You’ve never done that before.” Collins had questioned Griff earlier about his feelings about Toby’s death, and Griff had avoided the topic. Could Collins be concerned that Griff wasn’t treating Dana fairly?
“Yes, that’s right, Griff.”
“Why?”
“I think it’s a healthy prescription for both of you.”
His hand tightened around the phone. “Look, Doc, I’m fine.”
“Pilots are an interesting breed, Griff. When a trauma hits them, they swallow it, pretending it’s not there. As a flight surgeon, I’m concerned about the psychological effects that Toby’s death has had on you.”
“I’m over it,” Griff protested.
“It’s only been three weeks since he died. No human gets over something like that so quickly.”
Rubbing his brow, Griff looked up toward his office door, knowing Dana stood on the other side. “Look, Doc, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it’s not going to work. Coulter i
s… well—” He hesitated, trying to find the right words to walk around his sharpened feelings about women since the divorce. He didn’t want Collins putting him on flight waivers for some harebrained reason like grief or anger at his ex-wife. It wouldn’t look good in his service jacket, and he badly wanted another carrier assignment when he’d finished as an IP at Whiting a year from now. “I just don’t feel she can handle the airsickness.”
“My professional opinion is that she’s the right person to work through some of these problems you’re holding on to, Griff.”
Needled, Griff controlled his frustration. “Coulter’s only pulling 2.0s. I seriously doubt she’ll last another week.”
“I think that young lady has what it takes to be a fine officer and pilot. She’s got grit, and I know that’s something you respect.”
Saying nothing but “Goodbye,” Griff hung up the receiver. He stared at the opposite wall where his certificates and diplomas hung. Not knowing who to bite first, and feeling a deluge of incredible pressure building in his chest, he shoved his chair back and stood.
Dana jumped to her feet when the door was jerked open. Griff was angry—as usual. But she saw something else in his eyes that made her simply want to take him into her arms and hold him—a highly unusual desire on her part. Pain was reflected in his gray eyes, she realized. Raw pain. She stood uncertainly, flexing her fingers into her palms, trying to hide her nervousness.
“Come in here.”
She came and shut the door quietly behind her, watching Griff closely. Ordinarily, Griff’s shoulders were thrown back with pride, but now they looked slumped, almost broken. The silence built.
“Dr. Collins thinks flying every day will help you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Griff had spoken hoarsely, his back to her. Now he turned around. There was such compassion in Dana’s blue eyes that it nearly broke him. His withheld emotions were so close to the surface, that he could feel tears pricking the backs of his eyes. “You approve?”
No Quarter Given (SSE 667) Page 9
