Blue Skies

by Ali Vali

  “So you see, Whittle, why I don’t want you to ever take your eye off the target,” Berkley whispered to her navigator sitting next to her. “Had you been looking back, if we’d been in his situation, you’d have spotted Rattler before he was able to get that shot off. You’ll always be the eyes in the back of the head of any pilot you fly with, so don’t let them down.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Whittle straightened up in his chair. “Would you mind if I had lunch with you, Commander?”

  “Sure, the chipped beef around here is better tried with backup.”

  They stepped out into the heat of Nevada and headed to the mess hall. The khaki uniforms helped with the dry, hot air, but still it could be felt through the cotton material. They finished going through the line and picked a table next to the wall of glass that gave them a good view of the mountains in the distance.

  “Can I ask you something, ma’am?”

  “You can give it a shot, but I’m not promising I’ll answer.”

  He pushed the mashed potatoes around on his plate and didn’t look up after that. “Why’d you pick me to go up with you today? I’m not exactly in your league.”

  “My dad flew for the Navy with a young guy named Whittle, and I believe his first name was Harvey. He told me it was like having someone glued to your ass the whole time they were in the air, and it made him feel like he had a guardian angel on his butt.” Her knuckles wrapping on the table made him finally raise his head. “Is he a friend of yours?”

  “He’s my dad, ma’am. He saw some action and he got hooked on the adrenaline rush, so it took him a while to settle down and have a family. The way he speaks about the military made me feel he would be disappointed in me if I didn’t give it a shot. Unfortunately for him, I inherited my mother’s coordination, so it kept me out of the cockpit.”

  “I’ll tell you a secret.” She leaned forward and staged whispered her next line. “The person in the hopper seat is just as important as the pilot. Don’t let people like Blazer or Cobra tell you otherwise. If their backseats had been giving good advice today, we’d still be out there trying to outmaneuver each other.”

  “Thanks for that, ma’am.”

  “We need to do two things before you head back to the barracks today, Whittle.”

  He grinned and sat up straighter in his chair. “Whatever you like, ma’am.”

  “First.” She held up her finger and pointed it at him. “You can call me Cletus or Berkley. If you’re going to be my backseat, I can’t have you wasting time trying to get out Commander or ma’am.” Another finger went up and she smiled to soften the reprimands. “We need a new name for you.”

  “You can call me Whittle, ma’am. I really don’t mind.” She shook her head, and he backtracked. “Sorry, Berkley.”

  “I’ll give you until the morning to pick a flyer name. If not I’ll do it for you.”

  “Can I ask you one more thing?”

  “Sure, I’m in a generous mood today.”

  “With the way you fly, why didn’t you pick some name like Viper or Killer? Cletus isn’t exactly very menacing sounding.” She leaned in and told him the story behind the name, enjoying the way his head fell back when he gave her a big belly laugh.

  “Thanks for telling me, and I promise I’ll work on the name tonight.”

  “See you in the morning, and don’t forget to pay attention during the rest of today’s classes. Blazer got his ass handed to him in that conference room today, so he’ll be really gunning for us tomorrow.”

  *

  “How’d it feel up there today, boss?” Berkley put her feet on the desk in Will’s office and looked at the pictures covering his wall. More than a few had her father’s smiling face as he stood next to Will in front of a slew of different planes.

  “Like it did when I could keep a hard-on for more than two seconds.”

  “Ever hear the expression too much information, sir?” She laughed at his straightforward nature. If she had to guess, Will never really noticed that she was a woman, and had never treated her any differently than any other pilot who had come through the program.

  “Fuck off, Cletus, and tell me what you thought of the new group, since I figured this first exercise would’ve stretched past an hour. Imagine my surprise that my ass hadn’t warmed the seat yet when we were done.”

  “A lot of egos to contend with, but when isn’t it like that? Tomorrow we’ll go through some maneuvers before we head back to the chase. Should make them start to think like part of the wheel instead of one of the cogs.”

  “I was looking at Whittle while you were up there today. The boy was a shade of sickly green for most of the flight. Want to admit you were wrong on that application and change out tomorrow?” He picked up a file on his desk and opened it. “There’s a kid from Lincoln that’s supposed to be pretty good.”

  “You leave Whittle alone. He’ll be fine. He’s a bit nerdy, but he’ll turn out to be a great backseat. You’ll see.”

  “Get your ass out of here, then, and I’ll see you in the morning. If you’re not busy, Rose wants you at our house tomorrow for dinner. She’s trying a new recipe for enchiladas.”

  “Mexican food?” Berkley put her hand on her stomach and felt the need to stock up on antacids. Will’s wife Rose wasn’t known for her skill in the kitchen.

  “Mexican food, and I’m not going in alone, so don’t think about making any excuses of why you can’t come.”

  “The last time she tried that we were out for a couple of days. I love Rose to death, but would it kill you to give the woman some cooking lessons for her birthday?”

  “And admit to her that she can’t cook? I’m not that brave, wiseass. Get out of here before I find some way to sneak my food onto your plate. We’ll meet in the morning to map out the exercises for tomorrow.”

  “If they go anything like today, you might consider a few days in the classroom as a way to get their attention. Nothing brings some of these little ones into line faster than taking their toys away.”

  “That’s true, since you pout better than any two-year-old, and before you think of a smart-ass reply to that, remember that you could be sitting in there with them.”

  She stood and gave him a casual salute before heading out to the old Jeep she drove. It was a purchase she’d made at an army surplus auction and had spent a few summers restoring it. From what the previous owner had said, the 1943 vehicle had seen action in France during the war.

  Rebuilding the engine and getting her hands dirty had allowed her to get her mind to focus on the task instead of on the demons that haunted her thoughts when she sat idle. After getting her wings and serving six years in every dangerous situation Uncle Sam needed taken care of, Berkley had given up the live ammo for the computer-simulated rounds of Fallon.

  The position at Top Gun was coveted but perfect for Berkley, who in her career had never turned down any assignment and never failed to put herself in any position to get her team home safe. In Fallon the constant pressure situations they practiced had elevated her talent to a point that no one had brought her down yet.

  At this point in her life the moments in the cockpit were enough to make her forget what she didn’t have when her feet were on the ground, and it’s where Berkley planned to finish her naval career since she knew the life of a naval pilot was over almost as fast as the planes they flew. The day your eyesight weakened and your reflexes slowed was the day you had to leave the cockpit to the younger, more able pilots.

  But a naval career had been something she’d worked hard on for a very long time, and while she still had a passion for it, the same wasn’t true for most everything else. Like Harvey, the choice of enlisting hadn’t been difficult for her since her father’s life in the service was something he had used as bedtime stories. She’d wanted the same excitement he’d told her about when he was known as Fearless. That was his nickname in the cockpit, and what he’d tried to instill in her.

  Her parents had been gifted with
four daughters, as her father liked to say. That they didn’t have a boy was never an issue of disappointment for him from the moment Berkley arrived with a head full of brown, poker-straight hair, screaming like the room was on fire. The story was that when the nurse on duty had come out and handed Commander Levine the newly born Berkley, it was the first time the macho guy had shed tears in public. She was followed by sisters Ann and Willow, all of them eleven months apart, and when Berkley was five her parents had come home with Suzette.

  Commander Corbin Levine had been a devoted father to all his girls, but everyone knew how attached he was to the one brunette in his brood. His gangly kid, who’d topped out at six two, had become a star athlete, model student, and talented pilot. His friends teased him unmercifully for the size of his smile when Berkley graduated top in her class from the Naval Academy, assuring she would follow in his footsteps into the cockpit of the meanest machines on the planet. She wasn’t the Navy’s first female combat pilot, but she was one of the best they’d ever trained.

  Berkley’s sisters, Anna, Willow, and Suzette, went on to work for their mother’s family in New Orleans when her father was stationed at the Belle Chase Air Station to finish his career. All of her siblings were married with children, and the next generation was still populated with red hair and green eyes, leaving Corbin and Berkley as the only two with pale blue eyes that contrasted nicely with their dark chestnut hair.

  The large family had given Berkley a sense of place that had been important because her father’s assignments had moved them enough that she had trouble remembering all the locations. Her father had taught her honor, service, and commitment to country—all the things that defined him and his duty, but had also encouraged her to choose what was important in her life.

  Her mother had given her the thirst to expand her horizons beyond what she found in the cockpit, and also the example that even though she’d picked the life of the wanderer, as her father had done, there was the possibility for a great love affair. Both of her parents bragged about them in different ways, and when her mom talked about her, the best description was that Berkley had an outlook on life that both thrilled and terrified her because she feared so little. But it was what had attracted her mom to her father when they met, so when it was Berkley’s turn to love, whoever it was would be damned lucky. It was that lesson in risking her heart that had brought her to Fallon.

  *

  After stopping at the grocery store for a steak and ingredients to make a salad, Berkley drove home to the ranch house she was leasing right outside of town. When the Jeep came to a stop, her golden retriever jumped off the porch and ran to the vehicle, putting his two front paws on the side.

  “Hey, Junior,” Berkley grabbed her bag and kept it out of his reach. The dog had been a gift from her father and was the great-grandson of the best hunting dog her father had ever owned.

  With the front gate closed, Berkley went to change so she could fire up the pit. While the coals got hot she spent some time throwing Junior his ball. When she put his toy in her pocket Junior went inside and pulled open the fridge by the towel Berkley kept on the handle and carefully clutched a beer in his teeth and brought it out. He knew this kind of fetching game would get him a treat later. He gave the beer to her and sat away from the fire to watch Berkley cook. Their menu was limited because of Berkley’s cooking talents, but anything tasted better cooked over an open flame—at least that’s what her mother had told her when she’d come out and helped her set up the house.

  Her mom had spent a month with Berkley on the pretext of helping her unpack and to teach her a few things now that the Navy wouldn’t be providing every meal. Berkley had enjoyed having her around as much as her mom had needed to feel like the self-sufficient sailor she’d raised still needed her. When her mother left, the closets in the house were in order, the boxes unpacked, a new grill sat in the backyard, and in the kitchen she’d left a list of things Berkley could throw on the grill and instructions for how to season them.

  She ate her meal in silence, splitting her steak with Junior and watching the sunset from the back deck. After she washed the dishes and refilled Junior’s water dish, Berkley sat in the backyard with another beer and looked up at the stars. Her life wasn’t full, but it was enough for now. In the quiet moments like this she not only missed her family, but missed having someone to share her time with. That would have to wait until the sting of her first serious relationship was forgotten, and then there was that little hiccup that the Navy frowned on her telling them all about what she desired in a partner. Up to that point they hadn’t asked and she hadn’t told.

  “You know, Junior,” she said as she scratched the dog behind his ear, “I can sense when I’ve got someone trying to fuck me over up there,” she pointed at the sky with the bottle in her hand, “but when that great instinct really mattered, I pretty much put myself in the crosshairs and didn’t know it until the bomb hit.”

  The phone rang. “Levine,” she answered, surprised at the late hour.

  “Make sure you polish your shoes before coming in tomorrow,” Will barked at her. “I just got word we’re getting a visit tomorrow from a Captain Sullivan. He’s heading up the newest carrier the Navy put in the water and he’s shopping for crew. The suits feel like there’s a situation brewing in the east and the USS Jefferson is going to be sailing right into the middle of it.” The suits he’d referred to were the idiots in the Pentagon who liked to play war but had never donned the uniform. For men like her father and Will who’d seen more action than they cared to in a lifetime, the suits were the bane of their existence.

  “I’ll make sure I look all nice and shiny, then.” She hung up the phone and leaned against the wall, releasing a long breath. “It couldn’t be, but with my luck it is. Shit.”

  Chapter Three

  The next morning Berkley headed to her office down the hall from Will’s to get some paperwork done. If the brass was here looking for crew, they’d want updated files on the pilots they had on hand.

  “They’re ready in the small conference room, Commander.” The secretary the instructors all shared poked her head into Berkley’s office and gave her the notice.

  “Thanks. Let Will know I’ll be in as soon as I’m done with Blazer’s file.” When she finished printing out the reports, Berkley stood and smoothed down the front of her uniform, having made sure to put on all the ribbons and commendations for exemplary service the Navy had given her through the years. She knew her audience and decided to play her part of the perfect naval aviator.

  When she stepped into the room the only other people present were her fellow instructors. Before she could say good morning, Will’s assistant stepped into the room and snapped everyone to attention. “Officer on deck.”

  Berkley saw the arms of her crewmen quiver as if they were coming down from their salutes when a very feminine voice said, “At ease, please take your seats.”

  Just as it had on the day they met, the first thing that struck her about Captain Aidan Sullivan was that she was short. She was short and resembled a California surfer more than she did a naval officer with her blond hair, tanned skin, and blue eyes. Her only other distinguishing feature was the hard set to her mouth as if she found very few things in life humorous.

  “Thank you for giving me a few minutes of your day,” Aidan started, giving each person in the room a brief look, her eyes straying in Berkley’s direction just a bit longer than the rest. “I’ll try to be as brief as I can since Captain Jepson has informed me you have training flights this morning. The Navy has allowed me to hand-pick my personnel for the upcoming mission, and I thought I’d start at the greatest talent pool.”

  “Captain Sullivan would like volunteers from the instructor pool first, then with your help she’d like a frank evaluation of the students we have on hand as well as past participants. We’re looking at about a three-month hop if all goes according to plan, but even if it takes longer, your position here will be secure should yo
u decide to go,” Will added. From the way he clipped his words, Berkley could tell he was pissed with the news, but would follow orders.

  “This information doesn’t leave this room, people. We have a situation off the North Korean coast at the moment that the Pentagon might order some action on before it gets any further out of hand. This could all come to nothing, but for now we’re treating this seriously,” Aidan said. The two officers with her put the first picture on the screen at the far side of the room.

  “We’re thinking of sending in a team of perhaps six pilots to take out this target.” A laser pointer in Aidan’s hand circled a building in the upper right-hand corner of the satellite image, then to the building to the west of it, each on a small island. “Within these facilities the regime has moved its nuclear program and the scientists who have it on the fast track. The Pentagon figures from recent intelligence, if left unhindered, the North Koreans will have launch capability in less than eight months. If action is warranted after all diplomatic means have failed, taking out the facility as well as its personnel would put them years behind in getting to that point.”

  “Those islands belong to the North Koreans?” Will asked. “From the reports I got on this, there was a question about that.”

  “During recent talks between the UN inspectors and the Korean ambassador, their government insisted for the first time in history the islands were the property of China, but it’s North Korean personnel in the boats regularly patrolling the waters around them, so we figure it’s only a tactic to delay anyone from inspecting the facilities for as long as possible.”

  “According to CNN, the North Koreans are cooperating with UN demands to dismantle their nuclear program,” Berkley said, her eyes on the screen, working out scenarios in her head for how it could be done. She wasn’t going on this mission, but it was hard to turn off that part of her brain.