“I know mom wants to see you ASAP, but I figured on getting you a little welcome home treat first.”
“Sounds good dad.”
He orders for us into the speaker, and then he just looks me over with apparent pride. “So, tell me about it if you want Steph. I’ve got good ears.”
I nod. “I love my squadron dad. They treat me like their kid sister, all of them, and they take such good care of me.”
“Good.”
“But…”
“You don’t have to say it Steph. I know what you have to do over there.”
“It just doesn’t seem right daddy. I don’t even know what I am bombing.”
“Would you want to if you could?”
I shake my head.
“Look, you don’t have to go back you know. If you want to do something different, the doors open baby.”
“I know daddy,” I sob. “I can’t leave my family though. If they are fighting, so am I.”
“That’s called courage my love.” He wipes the tears away gently.
“Well I don’t feel so brave. Sitting up at twenty thousand and pushing a damn button. They can’t touch us there, just on the ground.”
“You didn’t leave the base did you?”
“The base yes, but we always stayed in the green zone. Hell they wouldn’t let us out dad. We are prime targets, and we cost the Air Force too much damn money training us.”
“Good, those people are barbarians.”
“Funny thing about barbarians though dad.”
“What’s that?”
“You can’t blast them back to the stone age, because they are already there.”
He chuckles lightly. “I guess you’re right, it didn’t work in Vietnam either.”
We drink our shakes, and head home.
Mom is all over me with hugs and kisses, and she’s checking me out to make sure I’m in one piece. I would laugh it so funny, but she is so serious. I only kiss and hug her back, and let her do her thing. Just as I sit down, she is back in the kitchen to finish fixing a big welcome home feast for me.
At dinner the conversation is mainly about what I want to do while on furlough. I mainly want to rest, and decompress for a while, and they are all for that. It is nice to kick back knowing that a mortar round isn’t going to pop in unannounced. The one thing that that does come to mind to do, is to give Debbie a call, as through our correspondences she got me her new number. She answers, and tells me that she’s glad I’m home safe, and that she was worried for me. We talk for a bit and then she tells me she has some furlough time due, and she would like to come see me. Now I can think of a hundred things I want to do. Since she can’t just take her bird, I ask dad if I can borrow the Eagle to go pick her up in. He gives me the thumbs up, and I tell her I see her in just a little while.
“You’re leaving Steph, but you just got here?” Mom is instantly worried.
“I’ll be back in a couple hours, I’m going to pick up a friend.”
“Oh, where?”
“Virginia.”
“Fly safe baby.”
“I will mom.”
Debbie is waiting for me on the flight line. We hug, but no kissing in public. Then we talk as the ground crew refuels my bird.
“You look good Steph. You still have that irresistible sparkle in your eyes too.”
“You are a sight for sore eyes Deb. How do you love the Raptor girl?”
“OMG! Hell, you know.”
We both giggle.
“Are there any other women in your squadron?” I am hoping so, for her sake.
“No. Just me.”
“How are they treating you?”
“At first there was some resistance, but they treat me like one of the boys now. How about you?”
“Yeah, her name’s Hanford. She treats me like her daughter, in a good way.”
“How about the guys?”
“Oh they love me like their kid sister.”
“Do they freak out that you’re so young?”
“Everybody does.”
“That’s because it is a freak out girl.” She laughs.
Our tanks are full, and I tell her to take the front pilot’s seat and show me what she’s got. Debbie is more than happy to comply. She’s good, and has us home and landed in short order, after she shows me some stunts of course.
“Thanks Steph, I’ll take every hour I can get. I love it.”
“You’re a good pilot Deb, real good.” I give her a lustful smile.
We keep our flight suits on and I drive home.
Mom and dad are very welcoming to her, and they make her feel right at home.
“So Debbie, what do you fly?” Dad asks being the aviation nut, not the only one though.
“She’s a Raptor driver too dad.” I say proudly.
“Impressive, young lady. Keep up the good work.”
“Thank you General, sir.”
“Oh none of that sir stuff here Debbie, you call me George.”
“Yes si…okay.” She is a bit nervous.
“She flew us here, and she’s as good as I am dad.” I fib just a bit, I am better.
“Are you hungry Debbie?” Mom asks.
“No thank you Mrs. Romero, I ate an hour before we left.”
“Please call me Mel.” Mom has such a kind smile.
Debbie nods returning the smile.
“Well I have the spare bedroom made up for you, and Steph can show you where the towels are if you want a shower.”
She nods.
“Come on Deb.” I motion her to follow me upstairs.
I get her a towel and show her the bathroom, then I show her where my room is, and ask her to join me when she’s done. She comes in wearing just a towel, and I tell her I can’t wait, but I want to be clean for her too, so I jump through the shower quickly. After closing and locking my bedroom door, we drop all pretense and are holding and stroking each other as we kiss wetly. Our nude bodies pressing against one another.
“We have to be quiet, it’s the only thing, okay.”
She nods and kisses my neck, driving me crazy.
We lay together and sleep, and in the morning there is a gentle knock on the door.
“If you girls want some breakfast, it is ready.” My mom calls sweetly.
“Oh, they know. I hope you’re not in any trouble baby.”
“No, they’ve known I’m gay since I was little.”
“Whew. Good. My folks would freak out now.”
“Yeah, religious?”
“Oh yeah. Big time.”
“Well let’s go get some breakfast if you’re hungry?”
“Starving.”
After breakfast dad says he has some work to do at headquarters, and will be gone until the afternoon. Then shortly after he leaves, mom tells us she’s going shopping and will be back after lunch, and to help ourselves to anything we want.
I look at Debbie with a big smile. “Now we can make some noise girl!” So we do, again, and again, and again.
I think the folks were clearing out to give us girls some privacy, they are the best. Later that afternoon I borrow the car and take Debbie out shopping as she only has the clothes she had on under her flight suit. It’s a fun trip as we are like best friends in public, and are only amorous in private. I know she is just a casual lover, as she tells me so. Our careers are what’s important, not falling in love. I could with her though, hell I did, but I keep those feelings in check. They have to be wanted.
We stop for a burger on the way home just to chat alone.
“I’m bucking for promotion from my Commander, I think he will approve it pretty soon.” She tells me with a wink.
“I just got promoted before we shipped home.”
“That was quick.”
“My Commander likes me.”
“You’ll be a Captain soon sir.” She teases me.
“Yeah, I suppose so. How far are you planning on going with your career Deb?”
“At least t
wenty years, maybe more. I like it a lot. How about you? I figure you for a thirty year girl myself.”
“I don’t know Deb.” I shake my head looking down.
“Hey, what’s wrong girl?”
“I love everything about the Air Force except one thing; dropping bombs on people.”
“Oh, yeah. There is that. Why don’t you get a transfer then?”
“My squadron is my family now Deb, I go where they go.”
“Well, maybe you won’t be deployed over there again.”
I give her my ‘get real’ look.
“Well you can’t just let it eat at you girl. You have to do something.”
“I’ll figure it out.” I sigh. At least I sure hope I do.
“Things are changing too Steph. Pretty soon they won’t even have manned combat aircraft over the battlefield. I hear that the drone pilots are actually here in the states. Isn’t that something, fly a combat mission, and then go home for dinner with the family.”
“So future pilots will all be flying remote control? That takes all the fun out of it.”
“No kidding. That means we are the last of a dying breed girl.”
Debbie can only stay two weeks, so we make the most out of it. Then it is time to fly her back to her base, and we part with friendly smiles. I sure needed that, because I had pent up that desire for far too long. The rest of my furlough is very relaxing, and comforting with mom and dad. Then the day before I fly back to New Mexico I get a surprise phone call from Carly.
“It’s good to talk to you again Carly. What have you been doing lately?”
“Oh you know I was out attending Berkley right?”
“Yeah, how is that going?”
“Well, I was stupid and got pregnant in my sophomore year. I know, I’m a moron for not keeping my damn legs closed. Don’t know what got into me.”
“Ha! So are you pregnant still, or did you have your baby?”
“She’s thirteen months old, and her name is Susan Carly Jones.”
“You gave her your last name, nice.”
“It certainly wouldn’t have been asshole’s name. He just ignored me after he found out, like he’d never even known me before. I’m in the process of filing for child support from his dumb ass, but it’s hard doing it from here.”
“You are back home now?”
“Yeah, at least until I get him to pay up. Hey how’s the whole Air Force thing going for you?”
“I love flying, always have, and I always will.”
“What do you fly?”
“An F twenty two Raptor.”
“Is that a jet?”
“Yeah, a real fast one.”
“Just like when we were kids huh? It makes sense that’s what you would wind up doing. It sounds fun, always did. When you would tell me about screaming around in the sky with flames shooting out the back, I always wanted to do that.”
“Hmm, maybe my next furlough I can take you up Carly, if you’d like.”
“Really? That would be the bomb girl.”
“I’ll plan on it then.”
“Hey, you’re stationed stateside aren’t you? I mean they don’t let women fly in combat over in Iraq and Afghanistan right?”
“Actually I just got back from a deployment to Iraq.”
The phone is silent.
“Carly?”
“Oh god Steph, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll live.”
“You didn’t have to… to like drop bombs on people did you?”
I sigh heavily.
“Oh god Steph. No, oh you’re not a killer Stephanie. I know you better than that. It’s wrong you know.”
“I hated doing it girl. Yes, it is very wrong.”
“Then don’t do it girl.”
“I don’t have to now.”
“Good. That sort of thing will eat you alive.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You know what I do when I’ve done something I just want to forget?”
“What?”
“I honestly don’t remember.” She starts laughing, and it gets me going too.
I tell her that my next furlough we’ll go for a ride, and we say goodbye. It was nice to hear her again, my first crush. Now she’s a single mother, I worry about her. Dad flies me back to New Mexico the next day, and it is back to work.
Six months after our return the whole squadron is sent out to Nellis for Red-Flag exercises. Full blown war games with aggressor squadrons that sometimes even fly captured Russian aircraft. Everyone is excited for the exercise, which is more like fun than anything else.
After we land and are assigned revetments for our birds we are taken to our BOQ rooms, and told that the indoctrination briefing will begin at fourteen hundred hours, and where to go for it.
A single star General leads the briefing. “Welcome to Red-Flag officers. I hope you all came prepared to have your full range of operational skills tested to the limit, because it will be twice as intense as that. Now for some protocol issues first. On all of the digital flight maps we will provide for each mission, you will see areas to the north of Nellis listed as no fly zones. Any entry into these zones will result in severe disciplinary issues. There are no exceptions, period. Secondly, anything you may or may not see in these areas is to be considered classified information, and you will treat it as such. This means keep your damn lips sealed people! This is no joke! Third item, absolutely no fly overs of Las Vegas are allowed during the exercises. Four, keep clear of the no fly zone over Hoover Dam. Other than that, you have the whole desert to use. Let’s keep safety alertness officers, we cannot afford the loss of one of you.”
He goes on to explain some of the rules of engagement. All the strike missions will be live fire missions, but no air to air missiles will be carried, or gun rounds. Instead sensor pods will be installed on the pylons that instantly calculate a missile hit or miss and it informs the data link with command control. If we are shot down we will be told to return to base, and are out for the rest of the day. Simulated cannon shots are calculated similarly. There is a hard deck of a hundred feet AGL, or Above Ground Level, meaning we are not supposed to fly below this. That’s pretty low, so it sounds fun. Then he tells us certain flights may be allowed to go supersonic, but that will be as the scenario dictates. This could be very interesting indeed.
At evening chow the whole squadron is excited, and we talk with another couple of squadrons in the hall also. Many of the officers, including in our own squadron, have been through Red-Flag before, and they tell us it is a lot of fun, but to watch for those damn aggressors as they are real good.
At oh four hundred we are marshalled to mission briefing. Colonel Hall explains our mission for this morning’s sortie is Mig CAP. We will only be armed with the pods to simulate missiles. The squadron will split into two elements of three flights each. Each element will perform Combat Air Patrol in different areas as listed on our digital maps. It’s a pretty simple sounding mission, I wonder what they are going to throw at us.
In minutes we are airborne and heading north, and I form up tightly on Major Hoyt’s wing. We are starting to skirt the big no fly zone north of the base, and ahead in the darkness I see the bright lights of the mythical Area 51. Everyone in the briefing knew exactly what the general had been referring to. I wonder if we’ll see a UFO? It makes me laugh.
Soon we are at forty thousand feet as the mission parameters dictated, and we have our radars in full search mode. Every now and then I dip my radar to look straight down, I know Major Hoyt also is doing this as he’s the one who taught me the trick. We also have all sorts of passive emission detectors we are using to look around.
We cruise on station for about twenty minutes, when we see the sun start to think about rising. Then the next time I do a downward search, I pick up a blip.
“Radar contact directly below major, altitude five K. Heading two eight three.”
“Rodger.” In a moment he comes b
ack, “Let’s go have a look. Follow at half a click.”
“Rodger that sir.” I watch as he rolls over and dives away from me, following after a couple seconds, and staying right on his tail.
We drop after the boogie, gaining speed. I see the major’s engine exhausts open further meaning he is easing off the throttle a bit, so I do too. On my radar scope the blip is right ahead of us about ten miles out, and closing. I am straining my eyes to look for it, we need visual confirmation to score a kill. Then finally, I see it below us several thousand feet and about half a mile ahead. As we get a little closer I see it has red stars as insignia, and I’ll be damned if it isn’t an old Mig twenty one. We are dropping down on his six so this should be an easy kill.
Just as I think this, the Mig pilot has seen us somehow, and he pulls up sharply, near vertical, but he doesn’t light his afterburners off. Major Hoyt is trying to pull up, keeping the Mig in his firing arc, but we are going way too fast, and we zip right past the enemy aircraft. Major Hoyt lights his afterburners off, and he goes pure vertical trying to gain precious altitude that we had lost. I follow, and quickly look back for the Mig. I see him, right behind us with his afterburners lit off. Then my text screen alerts me that I have been shot down.
“Mike Charlie twelve, this is master control. You have been shot down, RTB.”
Damn it!
I pull over from the climb and head back to Nellis. I don’t feel so bad when in another moment Major Hoyt is also shot down. Whoever that Mig pilot is, he’s one hell of a Honcho. Damn, we were right on him, and so quickly he was then all over us. Holy shit.
After I land, I am taken to the KIA lounge to wait until the days’ sorties are over to rejoin my squadron. Fortunately there are already two other pilots there from another squadron. Major Hoyt joins us shortly, looking sheepish.
“Sorry Romero, I blew it. That guy was something else wasn’t he?”
I nod with wide eyes.
“Was it a camouflaged Mig twenty three?” One of the other pilots asks.
“No it was a little camouflaged twenty one. Did a twenty three get you?”
“Both of us at the same time. Damn that guy could fly.”
“Ditto. We were on our fellow’s six, and he sure turned the tables quickly.”
Star Girl Page 7
