Coming Up for Air

by Karen Foley

  Forty minutes later, after she and Laura had been briefed on the details of the ambush outside Sangin, she acknowledged that waiting until daybreak made sense. The insurgents would likely regroup after the morning’s attack, and most ambushes and mortar attacks occurred during the night or bad weather, making a counter attack more difficult. Kabul had an Apache unit assigned to the base, and one of those aircraft would fly with her as an escort. Jenna had no doubt that she could handle whatever fate threw her way, but she was appreciative of the extra security.

  Back at the CHU, she quickly briefed the rest of her crew on the details of the next day’s mission. If any of the women had misgivings about flying in brownout conditions into a combat area, they were too well-trained to show it. In fact, if Jenna wasn’t mistaken, they actually looked eager to take on this assignment.

  “Let’s all get a good night’s sleep, get our heads in the game and be ready to rock at oh-five-hundred hours,” she suggested. But as she turned out the light and lay back on her narrow bunk, she wasn’t thinking about the next day’s mission. All she could think about was Chance and how grateful she was that he hadn’t been injured, or worse, in the ambush. According to the tac ops commander, he’d been responsible for eliminating the threat, although the Apache’s actions had come too late to prevent the Black Hawk from being hit.

  Her father had flown dozens of combat missions, but he’d rarely talked about his experiences. Most of what Jenna knew of his career, she’d read in military and aviation magazines. She’d asked him about it once; whether he’d been scared when he’d flown his chopper into enemy territory to extract injured or trapped troops.

  “Hell, yeah, I was scared,” he’d answered. “Scared shitless. But it was also the most alive I’ve ever felt.”

  Jenna realized that’s how she felt when she was with Chance. Just the thought of being in a serious relationship with him scared her out of her mind. But she’d never felt as alive as when they were together and his attention was focused solely on her. Could they possibly make a committed relationship work? She honestly didn’t know.

  Her parents’ marriage had failed, partly because her father couldn’t move past his days as a combat pilot. There was an exhilaration in flying that nothing else could match. Jenna understood that. She loved flying as much as her father did, but she didn’t have an unrealistic expectation that everything in her life would be as exciting as sitting in the cockpit of an attack helicopter, not knowing if you’d return from a mission.

  She’d sworn she’d never get involved with a pilot, but now she found herself wondering if a fellow pilot might not understand her better than a guy who had no military experience. If she and Chance decided to get serious, they’d have obstacles to overcome, but what couple didn’t?

  Turning on her side, she realized she was looking forward to the mission, and the possibility of seeing Chance at Sangin caused a thrill of anticipation to course through her. Just recalling their encounter in the cabin of the Black Hawk made her blood turn to honey in her veins. If he hadn’t yet returned to Kabul, she’d tell him she wanted something more than just a casual relationship.

  Did the thought scare her? Hell, yes, but it also made her feel alive. She suspected that she enjoyed being with Chance even more than she enjoyed flying.

  11

  CHANCE CIRCLED THE AREA where the insurgents had launched their attack the previous day, but nothing remained except a chunk of charred and twisted metal, the only evidence of what had once been a truck. It was just past nine o’clock in the morning, and he and Teacup had been flying for nearly two hours. But the sun was up and the sky was a little clearer than it had been the day before. Using both Apache aircraft, the two of them had been surveying the surrounding hills for almost an hour, searching for any further signs of hostility in the region.

  He’d been told that two days earlier a marine infantry unit was dispatched to a region nearly sixty miles to the west. Local tribesmen had provided U.S. forces with information regarding a rural village located in the foothills, claiming it was actually a Taliban stronghold. Chance and Teacup had flown over the village but hadn’t seen anything except farmers and goatherds. Not that that meant anything; the Taliban was notorious for blending in with the local population. There’d been no sign of the infantry unit, but that didn’t worry Chance; they’d likely be traveling fast and light and would stay off the main roads. He’d spoken with his brother last night, after the attack, and Chase had told him that the unit had been preceded by a special operations team that would conduct reconnaissance and provide intel to the marines.

  Now both pilots circled their helicopters back toward the base, satisfied that the region was safe. During their brief conversation, he’d also learned that Jenna would fly into Sangin that morning to transport McLaughlin’s crew members back to Kandahar. He hated the thought of her at Sangin, which had seen more insurgency in the past few months than any other region in Afghanistan.

  If it was up to Chance, he wouldn’t have Jenna anywhere near this hellhole. She’d be back in the States, flying tourists around. He knew some would consider his attitude chauvinistic, but he didn’t really care. He wanted her out of harm’s way. If he was lucky, she’d be on the ground just long enough to load her passengers, and then she’d return to Kandahar. He desperately wanted to see her again, but he’d gladly sacrifice spending time with her if it meant she’d be safely away from this place.

  He’d spent a sleepless night thinking about her, and in his dreams, he’d relived the attack. Only, instead of McLaughlin piloting the Black Hawk, it had been Jenna. He’d woken up with his heart pounding, disoriented and primed for battle, until he’d realized it had only been a nightmare. Now, in the light of morning, the dream seemed distant and vague, but his fear for Jenna’s safety was still very real. He wouldn’t let her suffer McLaughlin’s fate because of a lack of vigilance on his part.

  “T-Rex, everything looks clear. Suggest we return to base. Over.”

  Chance acknowledged that Teacup was right; they hadn’t seen anything remotely suspicious, despite the fact they’d covered hundreds of square miles. He knew that Jenna was coming in with an Apache escort and there was no need for him to worry. She’d be okay.

  “Roger that, Teacup,” he responded, and angled the chopper back toward the base, watching as the shadow of his aircraft passed over the terrain beneath them. Despite his trepidation that the briefings regarding yesterday’s attack would drag on forever, the officers in charge had quickly determined that both Chance and Captain Fuller had acted appropriately. The investigation into what happened to the Black Hawk would take longer, but all that mattered to Chance was that he’d been cleared to continue flying missions. And he’d already determined that his next one would be to escort Jenna’s Black Hawk to Kandahar.

  Flying in formation, they quickly covered the distance to Sangin. As they were cleared for landing and came in low across the outer perimeter, Chance saw two new helicopters sitting on the tarmac, a Black Hawk and an Apache, and he couldn’t suppress the surge of adrenaline that had his heart pumping hard.

  Jenna had arrived.

  * * *

  THE FLIGHT TO SANGIN had been uneventful, even when they’d been flying blind in the sandstorm. But as they’d drawn closer to the forward operating base, Jenna had found herself sitting straighter in the cockpit, her eyes scanning the landscape for any signs of a repeat ambush. She needn’t have worried; both door gunners were on high alert, their machine guns trained on the rocks below. Laura had been in near constant communication with the base and they had been told that two Apaches were performing a patrol of the area and that there had been no further signs of insurgency.

  Without having to ask, Jenna had known that Chance was piloting one of those aircraft, and she’d felt a sense of calm as they’d traveled the last miles to the base. Now, as she completed her flight paperwork and climbed down from the cockpit, the thwap-thwap of helicopter rotors drew her attention skyward. App
roaching from the west were two Apaches, and Jenna paused to watch them.

  “Looks like your boyfriend is back,” Laura murmured at her side, a knowing smile curving her mouth.

  Jenna gave the other woman a warning look, but whatever she might have said was lost in the deafening sound of the rotor blades as the two helicopters descended to the tarmac beside them. Jenna threw up an arm to shield her face from the debris kicked up by the wash, but her heart leaped at the sight of the big birds. It didn’t matter that she flew helicopters on a daily basis; she never got tired of watching them, and the distinctive sound of their engines and rotors never ceased to thrill her.

  She looked through the dusty windshield of the nearest Apache and recognized Chance. Even the helmet and dark faceplate, reminiscent of Darth Vader, couldn’t disguise the broad thrust of his shoulders or the way he held his head. When he turned in her direction, she knew he was looking at her. Then he reached up with both hands and removed the helmet, and their eyes met.

  Jenna couldn’t help herself. She smiled at him, happier to see him than she cared to admit, even to herself. She’d thought for sure that by the time she reached Sangin, he would already be on his way to rejoin his unit at Kabul Air Base in the north. That they were here, together, was more than she could have hoped for. Their stays could overlap for as little as an hour or for as long as several days, depending on the whims of the U.S. Military. She watched as he raised a finger to her in acknowledgment before returning his attention to his aircraft, shutting down the rotors and performing his postflight procedures. Giving herself a mental shake, Jenna turned her attention to her own aircraft and crew, but even as she went through the familiar motions, she was acutely aware of the man on the other side of the tarmac.

  “This place is on high alert,” hissed Laura. “I think our best bet is to round up McLaughlin’s crew and get the hell out of Dodge.”

  Jenna glanced around. The flight line was a frenzy of activity as the ground maintenance crews descended on the helicopters and began performing the routine checks and inspections required to prepare the aircraft for their next mission. Beyond the tarmac, military vehicles rumbled along the dusty roads, lights flashing on their roofs. Groups of soldiers walked with their weapons in the ready position as they performed security patrols throughout the base. Guards manned the towers along the perimeter wall, using high-optic binoculars to peer over the sandbags and razor-wire barriers into the surrounding desert.

  Jenna knew Laura was right; they should just collect their cargo and continue on to Kandahar, but there was an excitement in the air—a sort of energy—that appealed to her, despite the inherent danger. She’d never had to fly in an active combat environment, and realistically she knew she shouldn’t want to, but for just an instant she envied Chance his position as an Apache fighter pilot. If it came time to engage the enemy, nobody would question his right to be there or his ability to handle the situation. Even though she manned a Black Hawk helicopter, armed with some of the most lethal weapons in the U.S. arsenal, there would be those who would question her skills or whether she should even be allowed to fly such a mission, simply because she was female.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Jenna turned and found herself staring into Chance’s light green eyes. His cropped hair was damp from his helmet, and sweat coated the strong column of his throat above the collar of his flight suit. Lines of fatigue were visible on his face, but his eyes were alight with pleasure as they raked over her.

  “Chance.” Was that her voice that sounded so breathless?

  “No problems coming in?” he asked, running a critical eye over her aircraft, as if he expected to see bullet holes in the fuselage.

  “None,” she assured him. “The flight was uneventful.”

  “Good.” Glancing around, he caught her by the elbow and drew her toward the operations shack. “Listen, I’m glad you’re here and I wish I could spend some time with you, but—”

  Jenna pulled her arm free, annoyed, because she had hoped to spend some time with him while she was at Sangin, and his words felt like a rejection.

  “We both need to stay focused,” he continued, falling into step beside her. “There’ll be a time and place for us to be together but, trust me, this isn’t it.”

  Jenna gave a soft, disbelieving laugh and shook her head. The fact that he was completely focused on the mission, while she’d been daydreaming about another encounter with him, filled her with self-loathing. When had she become such a bimbo?

  “I’m not here for a social visit,” she said stiffly, knowing she must sound like a total bitch. “I’m here to do a job.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said in a low voice, his brow furrowing at her tone. “I’d hoped that we’d have some time to just hang out together, and maybe we still can, but intel has reports of more insurgency about sixty miles to the west. I think you should collect up Mongo’s crew and head out as soon as you can. I’d feel better if you were back at Kandahar. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Jenna came to an abrupt stop and whirled on him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Jesus,” he bit out, scrubbing a hand over his hair. “Can’t a guy express concern for your well-being without you taking it the wrong way?”

  Jenna bit back a sharp retort and looked swiftly out over the tarmac, trying to contain her emotions. She was being unfair, especially when he seemed genuinely concerned about her.

  “Listen,” she said quietly. “I understand why you want me gone, but this is my job. It’s what I do, the same as you. I know I don’t have any real combat experience, but I can handle whatever comes my way. I’ve been trained for this, Chance. Please don’t doubt my abilities.”

  For the first time, Jenna saw real anger flare in his eyes.

  “Is that what you think?” he asked softly, his tone registering his dismay. “Because if you do, then you don’t know the first thing about me. I’ve never questioned your capabilities as a pilot. I’m sure you can handle whatever the mission requires. I don’t want you gone. I want you safe.” He blew out a hard breath and looked away for a moment, clearly trying to rein in his emotions. When he finally turned back to her, his expression was controlled and shuttered. “You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe this thing between us won’t work.”

  His words cut through her like a blade, but there was no way she’d let him see that. Instead, she made a scoffing noise. “There’s a reason I don’t get involved with other pilots, and you’ve just proven my point. You said it yourself—we need to stay focused. I’m here to do a job, and if that job requires me to fly into a combat situation, then I will.”

  Seeing the frustration on his face, Jenna felt herself soften, just a bit. “Listen, I knew exactly what I was getting into when I joined the military. I knew it wouldn’t all be training exercises and flying dignitaries around the country. I understood that this—” she gestured to the surrounding base, with its concrete barriers and concertina wire “—would also be part of the job. I’m okay with it, and you should be, too. And if you’re not…”

  She left the words unspoken, but they hung in the air between them. If he wasn’t okay with it, then there really wasn’t much point in pursuing any kind of relationship. He needed to see her as an equal, because she wouldn’t agree to anything else.

  “I’ll accept it,” he finally said, grudgingly, “but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  Jenna slanted him a sidelong glance, wishing he didn’t look so good in his flight suit. Even the bulky body armor and survival vest he wore did little to detract from his physique.

  “When do you return to Kabul?” she asked, her annoyance quickly evaporating as she saw how weary he was. She reminded herself that it could just as easily have been his chopper that went down, and a cold fist clutched at her heart. She’d known him for such a short time, but she didn’t know what she’d do if anything happened to him. If that was how he’d felt when he thought of her flying a combat miss
ion, then she could easily forgive him.

  “Given yesterday’s incident, Teacup and I will stick around for a day or two until the initial investigation is complete. We’ll do another flyover of the area this afternoon.”

  Jenna nodded. Both foot patrols and a strong air presence were a vital part of any counterinsurgency effort.

  Chance glanced at his watch. “It’s barely nine-thirty. Feeling hungry?”

  “Yes, actually, I am.” She looked over her shoulder to see if Laura would join them, but she was standing by the helicopter, talking with one of the other copilots. “Give me thirty minutes, okay? I need to check in with tac ops, and I want to see how McLaughlin’s crew is doing. Meet me by the operations shack in a half hour?”

  “I’m headed that way myself,” he responded smoothly, “so let’s just go together, okay?”

  His words were completely plausible, since he had just returned from a mission and would need to debrief with the tac ops commander, yet Jenna couldn’t shake the sense that he didn’t intend to let her out of his sight. Normally, that kind of scrutiny would annoy her and she’d insist on going separately, so she was unprepared for the surge of pleasure she felt. She didn’t say anything, just continued walking, but she couldn’t quite suppress the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

  Jenna waited in the flight ops shack while Chance debriefed his commanding officers about the morning’s mission. Laura and the other pilots had drifted into the shack behind her as she completed her own paperwork for the flight from Kabul. Now they listened as the tac ops commander briefed them on the security situation outside the base. The special ops team, a group of army rangers, had reached a ridge several klicks west of the rural village. They were actively watching the activities of the villagers, but were unable to positively identify any Taliban presence.

  There was silence in the small room for a moment, and Jenna glanced at the faces around her. She knew they were all thinking about the previous day’s attack on the Black Hawk helicopter. The Taliban was out there, and it was only a matter of time before the U.S. troops tracked them down and eliminated them. The knowledge that she would not be part of that mission rankled just a little. As much as she understood the importance of flying Captain McLaughlin’s crew back to Kandahar so they could return to duty, she couldn’t help but wish she could be assigned to a mission where she could make a real difference.