Hangar 13

by Lindsay McKenna

  Ellie laughed a little and noticed that a number of the uniformed air police were discreetly watching them. She felt uncomfortable. “Yes, I guess I am.”

  Mac reached out and touched her upper arm. “Come on, I’ll take you over to our fitting facility. My crew is finishing up a check on my bird. As soon as they’re done, we’ll be off.”

  Mac’s touch sent a sizzling, almost painful sense of need throughout Ellie. She felt it deep within her. How long had she gone without a man in her life? Far too long. That ache, that unfulfilled feeling, had surfaced now and then, but never like this. Never had she felt this sharp, clamoring longing that Mac always set off within her.

  When they reached the parking lot, Mac opened the door to the car and she got in. The sun had heated the vehicle considerably, but Ellie loved the sun and luxuriated in the warmth.

  When Mac got in, he turned and smiled at her. “In two weeks, you’ve become prettier than ever.”

  She lowered her lashes and avoided his burning gaze, the message in which was easily translated: he wanted her. The thought was as exciting as it was forbidden to Ellie. Clasping her hands in her lap, she murmured, “Thank you.”

  Mac drove his car down one boulevard and turned onto another. Driving on base was always slow business. Though he kept his eyes on the road, he could sense Ellie’s discomfort and wondered if it was specifically him—or if it would be the same with any man who showed an interest in her. He wished he had the guts to ask her exactly that, but he felt such a tentative, almost fragile bond between them, and didn’t want to destroy what was already in place.

  Maybe, if she got to know him better, she’d lose the wariness that stood like a wall between them. He gestured toward the flight line in the distance.

  “My crew thinks you’re a public-relations ride. I’m letting them think that, because we usually don’t give civilians a ride in our jets.”

  “I’m scared and excited, if you want the truth.”

  “About being around me or taking a hop?” The words came out before Mac could stop them.

  Ellie met his eyes, and again, her pulse bounded. She didn’t know how to answer him.

  “I’m sorry,” Mac said. “I know you don’t trust me. I wish you did, that’s all.”

  She felt his pain, but she also sensed that Mac understood why she held him off. “If I didn’t trust you, Major, I wouldn’t be flying in that jet of yours.”

  His grin broadened a little. “Really?” His hopes rose.

  “Really.”

  After that, the tension seemed to lessen between them, and Mac filled Ellie in on his progress with Hangar 13. “It took me a while, but I finally managed to find out where Tim Olson’s parents live. I gave them a call.”

  “Oh?”

  “Tim never showed up at home,” Mac said. He turned down another street, which led toward the flight line. “I talked to his mother, who thinks that her son was murdered. She said Tim liked the military, that being in the air force had been his life’s dream.”

  “It wouldn’t make sense that he’d go AWOL then, would it?”

  With a shake of his head, Mac said, “No, it wouldn’t. Mrs. Olson was very nice to me. I asked her if Tim had any enemies and she said he had none.”

  “What was he like?” Ellie asked.

  “I asked her about that, too. Tim was a fairly aggressive man. He played sports in high school, was real competitive and didn’t like to lose.”

  “That fits,” Ellie said. “The spirit was very aggressive. Did Mrs. Olson say anything about her son having a temper? That spirit was very angry.”

  “I remember that,” Mac said. He pulled up to a single-story building and shut off the engine. “She told me that Tim had temper tantrums as a kid. And in high school, whenever he lost a game, he would throw things in the locker room.”

  Ellie’s eyes widened. She saw how serious Mac had become. “This spirit is throwing things, too.”

  “Yes.” He fought the desire to brush his hand through Ellie’s black, thick hair. “I’ve had two weeks to think about what you saw in your journey, and I’m still not convinced. But Tim Olson seems to match the temperament of the spirit you saw and spoke to.”

  Ellie felt him wrestling with the situation. Without thinking, she reached out and placed her hand on his sleeve. “It’s very hard to make the leap of faith it takes to accept what I do, what I believe in and what I see when I’m in an altered state, Mac.” She removed her hand, although she wanted to continue exploring the steel-cable muscles of his arm. She saw Mac’s eyes suddenly become narrowed, filled with heat, with desire—for her. She quickly added, “Don’t try to force yourself to believe any of it. That’s not being true to yourself. You don’t have to believe on my account. Remember? I’m used to naysayers.” She lifted her arm and gestured outside the car. “The world is filled with them.”

  A slight smile tugged at Mac’s mouth as he opened the car door. “I’m not trying to force myself to believe anything, Ellie.” He gave her a long, serious look. “But facts are facts. The description you gave me of the spirit’s personality seems to match Tim Olson’s almost exactly. You may think I have a fairly rigid outlook on life, but I’m not one to disagree with facts. Fair enough?”

  She met his smile and felt surrounded with that wonderful heat once again. “Fair enough,” she murmured, nervous beneath his hooded look.

  “Come on,” he said, excitement in his voice, “let’s get you a pair of g-chaps, a helmet and some flight boots, and we’ll be off.”

  For the next hour, Ellie was the center of attention. Two sergeants in charge of flight gear fitted her with a form-hugging, lower-body g-suit that was designed to stop the blood from leaving her head in high-g turns. They fussed over her, helped tighten the g-chaps to fit her legs, and found a pair of heavy black leather flight boots in her size.

  When they were finished, Ellie couldn’t help but laugh. Beneath her left arm was a helmet and oxygen mask. “I feel like a trussed-up goose that’s ready to be roasted!”

  Everyone laughed. Mac grinned and gestured for her to follow him. “Believe me, when you get up in the jet, you’ll be glad for those g-chaps fitting so tightly. Let’s go. Our steed awaits.”

  A thrill filled Ellie as she followed Mac back out to the car. It was eight a.m., and the light blue sky was filled with the blinding radiance of the sun. The slight chill of earlier was gone, replaced with that dry warmth she loved so much. Getting into the car, Ellie felt anticipation thrumming through her.

  “I don’t know if I’m more scared or excited,” she confided to Mac.

  “A healthy combination.”

  “You aren’t going to make me airsick, are you?”

  “No.” He turned and met her large, luminous eyes. A man could lose his soul in them, he decided, then pushed the thought aside. “I want you to understand what I do, why I enjoy it so much.”

  Ellie nodded. “You’re much more subtle than I gave you credit for.”

  “What do you mean?”

  It was her turn to smile. “If I understand you, the man, you’re thinking maybe I won’t be as gun-shy around you.”

  “Guilty,” Mac conceded. He pulled onto a road that would lead them directly to his jet waiting outside Hangar 13. “I know your ex-husband didn’t believe in you.” He gestured to the jet in the distance. “I can’t fight city hall. I need you to see for yourself that I’m different. Maybe if you set foot in my world for a while, you won’t be so scared of me.”

  Ellie colored fiercely over his honesty. “I feel badly, but I can’t apologize, Mac.”

  “No one’s asking you to.” He pulled the car up beside the hangar and put it in park. Taking out the key, he turned and held her sad eyes. “I know I was pretty skeptical of you, what you do, at first.”

  “And now?”

  Mac felt the tension in her and wished he could make it go away. “Now, it’s not so farfetched as it seemed before.” He shrugged and reached over and captured her hand. H
e squeezed her fingers and then released them. “Maybe,” he hedged, “with time and education both ways, we’ll be able to see each other, not what we do for a living.”

  Ellie’s hand tingled. She sat there, feeling a tidal wave of joy combined with warning. “Mac, what you do for a living isn’t necessarily tied to your beliefs the way it is for me.”

  “Yes, it is,” he murmured. “Ellie, I’m in the military because I believe in the defense of our country. I don’t like war, I don’t like the thought of killing another human being, but I do believe that our people should be free, and I’m willing to fight for that right. So what I do for a living is as much a part of my belief system as shamanism is of yours.”

  A lot of different, difficult emotions played through Ellie as she digested his words. “I—I guess—” she stumbled, searching for the right words “—I’ve got a lot of prejudice, too, in a sense.”

  Mac sat back. “How so?”

  With a painful shrug, Ellie whispered, “I’m so used to people outside my world pooh-poohing what I do, what I believe in, that I’m tired of defending it. So many have called me crazy that I assume everyone in the so-called real world feels that way.” She searched his face and saw understanding burning in the depths of his eyes, and it gave her the courage to go on. Opening her hands, she said, “Mac, we live in a society that doesn’t believe in the unseen, the metaphysics of life. I spent many years trying to get people to consider another point of view. But even my husband, the man I was supposedly closest to, couldn’t accept it. Brian was always calling me crazy. It hurt a lot. After a while, it got so bad I never said anything to him about my world, my profession. It was okay for him to tell me about his work, his problems with certain people, the pressures on him, but he never wanted to hear them from me.”

  “You had a one-way relationship,” Mac agreed quietly.

  “It was more than that. I literally felt like a ghost in our household. As long as I fit the ‘normal’ mode of housewife—cooking, sewing, cleaning—then things were fine between us. But if I ever brought up the things that really mattered to me…” She grimaced. “Every time I did, it meant an argument, yelling. I hate fighting, Mac. I cringe just thinking about it.”

  “You’re a gentle person.”

  Shaken by his insight into her, Ellie raised her chin sharply and looked at him. Mac’s eyes were touched with pain—and she realized it was her pain. Never had she encountered a man who could feel so much for anyone outside of himself. “Y-yes, I’m gentle in the sense that, because of my abilities, I can’t tolerate the normal stresses this society puts on us.” With a sigh, she added, “That’s why I have a small house near the edge of the city. I need the earth nearby, not the noise, the hustle or the frantic energy that city life provides. I’ve always found peace in my garden.”

  “But not in people?”

  His insight stunned her. Ellie swallowed convulsively. “How can you see through me so easily?”

  “I’m a pilot as a profession, a human being all the time, Ellie.”

  She knew he didn’t mean that as a barb. Hanging her head, she whispered, “I’m afraid of you, Mac. Actually, I’m more afraid of myself. You scare me because you make me feel emotions I’ve never felt. You give me hope, but I’m too scared to reach out and take it.”

  Gently, he picked up her hand and placed it between his own. The jet ride could wait. This was more important. “Look,” Mac began huskily, “let the time we spend together talk to you, Ellie. I know we all put up walls, we project on other people, on situations. When you look at me, your brain says ‘Brian.”’ He smiled a little, a catch in his voice. “What I keep hoping is that your heart sees me.”

  Closing her eyes, Ellie felt tears begin to form. “You’re an eagle. I’m a dove.”

  “Can a bird of war get along with a bird of peace?” Mac posed softly. He patted her hand and allowed her to reclaim it. As she opened her eyes, he saw the tears in them. Without a word, he pulled a white handkerchief from the side pocket of his flight suit and handed it to her. He hoped the tears symbolized something good between them, not something negative. After blotting her eyes, she refolded the handkerchief and gave it back to him. Without a word, he stuffed it away and zipped the pocket up again.

  “Come on, let’s fly,” he whispered, and opened the door of the car.

  Ellie perked up as Mac’s enthusiastic crew surrounded them at the base of the ladders to the huge, gleaming jet. She was in awe of the power that surrounded the aircraft, and now understood a little better why Mac had that same power around him. It were as if two giants with equal strength, intelligence and competitiveness had met. Who would be the eventual winner? It had to be Mac, she surmised as she climbed carefully up the aluminium ladder to the rear cockpit seat. His world was one of metal, instruments and cold, hard reality. What he saw on the instrument panel before him was everything—his life or his death.

  After she was strapped into the harness system and the helmet had been settled on her head, Ellie watched with fascination as Mac climbed up the ladder and moved into the front cockpit. He was all-business, and so was his crew. She sat in the hot sun, sweat beginning to form on her brow. She couldn’t remember ever feeling more confined.

  As the ladders were withdrawn from the sleek aircraft, Ellie saw the crew chief give a signal with her hands. Mac acknowledged the signal, and suddenly the entire jet began to tremble. The quivering reminded Ellie of a horse she had grown up with on the reservation, an old thoroughbred who had outlasted his usefulness on the race track, but had never forgotten how to run. Every time she’d thrown her bare leg across his narrow, ridged back, she’d felt the very same quiver—one of anticipation mingled with excitement.

  The huge Plexiglas canopy slowly came down over them. A rasping sound came through the headset within the helmet, and then Ellie heard Mac’s voice.

  “We’re on intercabin frequency as well as with my crew chief,” he told her briskly. “Right now I’m running through a final check of all my instruments and making sure both engines are in good shape. How you doing back there?”

  She smiled nervously. “Okay, I guess. I was thinking this jet was like a thoroughbred gelding I used to ride when I was growing up. He always quivered when he wanted to run.”

  Mac’s laugh was husky. “Yep, this girl of mine likes to run, too.”

  “You call this plane a girl?”

  Chuckling, Mac looked up and snapped a sharp salute to his crew chief. “Listen, when a plane has this much power, it’s gotta be a woman.”

  “On that we agree.” Ellie laughed. Her excitement doubled as the engines began to whine higher and louder, although the sound was somewhat muted by the helmet she wore. Still, she could feel the power, the trembling, through every pore, bone and muscle in her body.

  “Okay, let’s stroll on out to the takeoff point,” he told her.

  Ellie felt the engines begin a deeper growl, felt the jet gently begin to move forward. It gave her a euphoric sense of power, with none of the foreboding she’d thought would accompany it. From the ground, the jet had looked predatory. Riding in it gave her an altogether different outlook. She felt as if she was master over a very powerful piece of machinery.

  At the ramp, another vehicle came up and several men got out.

  “Put your hands up on the edge of the cockpit. Those fellows are the armorers, and they’re going to check beneath the wings of the jet. They want to see our hands, because that means we won’t accidentally run over them.”

  There was amusement in Mac’s voice, but she knew he was serious. She saw him place both hands at the top of aircraft frame, in plain sight. As soon as she did the same, the three crewmen disappeared beneath their plane for the inspection.

  “You aren’t carrying any weapons, are you?”

  “No, but we always go through this drill. How you doing back there?”

  “Fine. Excited. Scared.”

  “I feel the excitement every time I sit in this hot seat u
p here.”

  “I can see why you love to fly. This plane is awesome.”

  Chuckling, Mac nodded. “Welcome to my world, Ms. O’Gentry.”

  “Your world is something else.” She saw the three air crewmen reappear and move back to their vehicle. One saluted, and she saw Mac snap a return salute.

  “Okay, we’re ready to roll. Your harness good and tight?”

  “So tight I feel like my blood supply is cut off,” Ellie complained.

  “You won’t feel that way after we take off, believe me,” he replied dryly.

  Ellie heard the engines growl again, and once more, he eased the huge jet forward. All around her was desert; cactus, chaparral and sandy soil surrounded the long, black runway. She looked up through the Plexiglas canopy and saw how light the sky was. Far above them were horsetail-cirrus clouds, long, fine and filmy. It was a beautiful morning.

  “Ready for takeoff?” Mac asked her, settling both feet hard on the rudders to make the jet stop as he started to ease both throttles forward.

  “Yes.”

  He smiled to himself as he heard the excitement in her voice. “Okay, we’re going to make an afterburner’s takeoff. At the end of the runway, I’m going to stand this girl on her tail and we’re going to go straight up for thirty thousand feet. This is called grandstanding. It impresses everyone.” He chuckled. “You’re going to feel a lot of pressure on your body—that’s just gravity. So relax, let it push you into the seat and enjoy the ride.”

  Ellie nodded tensely. Her heart was pumping hard. “Okay,” she whispered. Mac didn’t have to tell her what to expect, but he had, and she was grateful. In her right hand, she clutched the airsick bag.

  “Your oxygen mask strapped on?” Mac asked as he began to inch the throttles toward the afterburner range.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Okay, we’ve got clearance. Here we go—the eagle and the dove together.”

  Ellie didn’t have time to respond to his words. The instant Mac released the rudders, she was slammed hard against the seat. Her breath was squeezed out of her as the engines roared, caught and moved into the afterburner range. The ground was moving so fast that it made her dizzy. The pressure on her body increased as the jet raced down the runway. Somewhere in her spinning thoughts, she knew Mac loved this. The jet was like an unleashed cougar running down the airstrip, howling and snarling.