Desperate Situations

by Holden, Abby

  A laugh sounded over the handset. "Ya'll welcome. We work for White Pine Aviation and Security. We were headin' home when we heard your radio call to the base. Sorry for butting in, but ya sounded desperate."

  "Desperate doesn't describe it. What's your name?"

  "I'm Cowboy." A chuckled followed. "The pilot is the Ghost. The guy back there with you is Gunner." McGrew nodded thanks at Gunner who was listening.

  "Where can we drop you boys?"

  "We're out of Sierra Echo One Base. It's also the closest."

  "Uh, can't do that, pardner. See, we gettin' low on fuel and that little maneuver took most of our reserve. Best we can do is meet up with your folks somewhere in the middle. Think you can arrange that?"

  "Can you hook me into the right channel?"

  "Shore can. Give me a minute." The radio went dead.

  Suddenly a slight squawk came from the handset. McGrew could hear communications from various units moving into position for their rescue. A huge smile lit his face. "Momma Duck, this is Ugly Duckling."

  "Where the hell are you, Ugly? What the hell is going on?"

  "Some White Pine Aviation guys flying by picked us up, but they're low on fuel and can't deposit us back in the home nest. Where is rescue support so they can drop us to them? Can you comply?"

  "Affirmative, Ugly. Air support is approaching that part of the city."

  "Hey Momma, this is Famine of White Pine," Cowboy interrupted, "I see another beater rapidly approaching. Hey, Tinman, that you?"

  "Famine," Tinman replied from the military Black Hawk over the radio. "Are you the one needing to drop your load?"

  "That's us, man. We smoking our last fumes here."

  "Tinman to Momma. Permission to retrieve personnel?"

  "It's in your hands, Tinman. Momma out."

  "Follow us, Famine. We need to get to a more secure area."

  "Lead the way, cowpoke," Cowboy intoned and began singing 'Rawhide.'

  McGrew started chuckling as he relaxed still holding the handset, listening to the pilots communicate. His eyes swept over his men again, even Reed looked like he was going to make it now.

  Escobar returned McGrew's smile.

  It was only two minutes and the helicopter began to descend to a deserted area outside town.

  "Hey Tinman, we need to be landing soon if we're making it back to home base. This looks like a good place," Cowboy called to the Black Hawk they were following.

  McGrew could hear laughing from the military pilot.

  "We'll be right back, Famine. We'll check out the area." The other helicopter quickly circled, then came back to where Famine landed. The camouflaged military helicopter settled close.

  As the blades on the military Black Hawk began to slow, the Captain motioned for the squad to exit with the prisoner. A crewman from the Army helicopter was already moving toward them.

  The pilot from each Black Hawk exited with smiles and greeted each other as the Captain approached.

  With a huge grin, McGrew loosened his helmet and reached out to the tall pilot from Famine. "Thanks for your timely rescue, Cowboy. I'm Captain Jake McGrew."

  "Shore thing. Can't let the ol' Red, White, and Blue boys down." Cowboy shook hands as he glanced at his aircraft. The others looked too.

  "That was a hell of a rescue," McGrew commended as he watched the two other crewmen from Famine. Stubbs hustled the prisoner to the military Black Hawk, while Rios and Hamilton worked on getting Reed out. Casey grabbed Reed's rifle then waited to help Escobar.

  "Taint me, Captain," Cowboy said with a huge grin. His head bobbed to his aircraft. "The Ghost was flying this hunk o' junk."

  Captain McGrew studied the pilot in full gear, including helmet and scarf, who was helping his men out. "The Ghost?"

  Tinman started laughing. "Best pilot in this sand box, Captain. Now you see the Ghost, now you don't. The insurgents hate the Ghost."

  McGrew smiled with Tinman, once again the Ghost had thwarted the insurgents. His eyes swung back to the White Pine pilot. "Kind of small for a pilot," he said, almost under his breath. Something about the shape of the pilot's body intrigued him. The pilot couldn't be over five-six. McGrew watched the pilot of Famine walk up.

  Tinman smiled even bigger catching the intense look in McGrew's eye. "Yeah, but the Ghost is still the best, Captain."

  McGrew's attention riveted on the pilot standing in front of him. The White Pine pilot was short, small framed and the walk was a little odd. The flight helmet and camouflage scarf, presumably to keep out sand and other things, hid the entire face. He caught big, brown eyes staring at him.

  The look in the pilot's eyes made him uncomfortable. He had only seen that kind of intense stare in bars. And there was an electrical feeling in those eyes; he could feel it in his bones. He cleared his throat after a long second of mutual intensity and stuck out his hand. "On behalf of my men and myself, thanks for the timely rescue, Ghost."

  The Ghost's eyes flicked to Cowboy then a smile cracked the brown eyes. The pilot shook his hand while the other hand pulled off the camouflage material. In a swift motion, off came the helmet. "Any time, Captain." Short, brown hair framed the smiling face.

  McGrew's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Then he narrowed his eyes as he saw the smile get bigger on Ghost's face. "A woman!"

  "God, I love getting that kind of reaction out of you military guys," Ghost replied as the other two pilots cracked up.

  "How the hell can White Pine put a woman in this sort of environment?" McGrew asked, his hand swinging to the surrounding area, knowing that mercenary units were usually the 'fire first, ask questions later' type.

  "Didn't matter what sex I was ten minutes ago, did it GI?" The Ghost's eyes turned hard.

  "Do you know what will happen to you if you get caught, Miss Smarty Pants?"

  "Of course. Dry it up, Cupcake," she said. "You men are all alike." She quickly put back on her helmet and cover scarf. "Don't tell too many people that a woman saved your ass. Bad for morale." She turned to Tinman. "Thanks for the pickup. Call sometime if you feel like losing at poker again."

  Tinman laughed and shook her hand. "Never. I learned my lesson." He shook Cowboy's hand and waved at Gunner who was already climbing into the Black Hawk.

  Ghost jogged back to the right side of the helicopter. Within seconds, the blades began spinning faster.

  Cowboy pounded Captain McGrew on the back. "Keep makin' the home front proud." With a nod at Tinman, he hurried to the cockpit and climbed in. As it lifted off, he gave a half salute to the two men.

  McGrew shaded his eyes from the dust kicked up by the wind vortices then turned to Tinman. "Nose art on a helicopter?"

  The warrant officer gave a belly laugh. "Only her four has them, sir."

  "The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?"

  Tinman nodded and pointed to the quickly disappearing aircraft. "That was Famine. A black horse and rider holding the scales. Her Pave Hawk has a pale horse and rider―"

  "For Death?"

  "Yes, sir. The Chinook that she uses has a red horse. Pestilence. And the executive one that ferries around big shots in White Pine has a small white horse with crown and a bow. War," Tinman said as they hurried to the military Black Hawk.

  McGrew stopped and glanced back in the direction of the dot on the horizon.

  Tinman stopped too and glanced with him.

  "Is she really that good?"

  "Best here in Iraq. Don't let her sex fool you. She's tougher than nails, sir." Tinman shook his head. "I wish I had half her talent."

  "Why is she working for White Pine?"

  "Rumor has it that she makes more in a month here than most of us in a year. Not to mention that she was military, but they wouldn't let her fly combat. Pissed her off. But that's only rumor. Personally, I think she gets off flying over here." Tinman shrugged at McGrew. "Just my thinking, sir."

  McGrew nodded. "Attitude. She has attitude."

  Tinman smiled at McGrew who w
as still looking behind them. "Yeah. That she does. And just so you know, she's also known as the Iceberg. Like ice under any pressure and…" He winked at McGrew. "No one can get her to warm up." Tinman climbed into the cockpit and watched as the Captain finally swung himself into the back.

  McGrew stared off into space as the helicopter went airborne. "I like attitude."

  ***

  "You're awfully quiet Megan."

  "Why do all of those assholes have to be the same?" Megan asked as she flew back to White Pine compound. She sighed softly.

  "I saw that look, Sweetheart. Did I see right? Was that a look of interest in those pretty brown eyes for a certain GI?"

  "Me?"

  "Yes you."

  "Not me."

  "Ah uh." Cowboy chuckled. "I ain't ever seen you this 'interested' before. Do I see a crack in the ol' Iceberg?"

  "You know I hate that name."

  Cowboy's chuckle increased almost to a laugh. "Yeah, I know. Hell must be freezin' over, Meg."

  A snort was her answer.

  Cowboy just laughed. "Megan, Megan, Megan. It's only natural. Hormones is hormones, girl. Chemistry happens. Love at first sight kinda…"

  Megan gave another snort.

  "See Megan, the boy bee…"

  "Kelly, I don't need a biology lesson."

  "Look, Meg, from the heart, how often do ya'all get an interest? Huh? He can't be hard to find, after all we did it once."

  "Yeah right, like that'll happen. Anyway, I bet he doesn't tell too many that we saved his ass. A woman, and us being mercs. Those military guys are all alike. Hell, you men are all alike."

  "Whoa, Girl. Don't be including Gunner and me with the rest of the male population. We're confirmed lovers of you Ghost. Ain't nobody I'd rather fly with or have at my back."

  "He right, Ghost. You do goodly. Bestest in my book. Tu eres mucho bueno," a voice sounded in her ear over the intercom.

  Megan chuckled. "Thanks, Gunner. I like you too. Okay, so I have the best of the hanging organ crowd with me."

  "Meg…" Cowboy pointed at the flashing light that indicated they were running out of fuel.

  "Yeah, I know." She smiled. "We should be running out of fuel… about… now…" Megan had barely gotten the words out and the engine died―then the second engine. "Here we go."

  The helicopter began to auto-rotate to the ground, allowing the blades to rotate freely using only the airflow over them to slow their decent. She sited her landing place just inside the fenced compound of White Pine. Within seconds she flared the blades, and Famine landed with a slightly harder than normal smack.

  Megan let out a breath of relief and saw that Cowboy had the same expression. She keyed the microphone. "White Pine Tower, this is Famine."

  "Famine, we have a crew already headed to tow you. The Head wants to know what you were thinking doing that rescue?"

  A smirk crossed her face as she keyed the microphone. "Tell the Head, I was cooperating with the international coalition to bring about a faster end to this occupation by saving personnel vital to the effort. Also tell him, if he has a problem with my actions, he can masticate my gluteus maximus." She glanced at Cowboy as the smirk widened, then turned into a full-blown, mischievous smile. Her group was getting ready to rotate out of Iraq anyway, and she was getting real tired of Truman, the egotistical, arrogant, male chauvinist head of the White Pine base in this part of Iraq.

  "There's that look that makes me want to crap my pants, Girl. Yee-haw!"

  ***

  McGrew tossed his shower pack on the bed and sat down hard. He was tired, hot, and grimy even though he had just returned from the showers after debriefing. Running a hand over his still wet, brown hair, he looked up as a knock sounded on his door―his lieutenant. "Yeah?"

  "You look beat, Jake."

  "Yeah."

  "I heard it was touch and go out there."

  Jake nodded. "Definitely an ass-puckering mission."

  A smile broke out on Ted's face as he leaned on the doorpost. "I also heard you got the Jack of Spades."

  McGrew smiled. "Yep."

  "Great way to end a career, man."

  "It does top off a great run." He let out his breath. "There for awhile, I didn't think I'd make these last four days."

  "How long do you have until you're stateside?"

  "One more day. Then it's hello soft, warm bed―"

  "Hello soft, warm woman?"

  McGrew laughed. "Maybe. If I can find one." Both men laughed. Jake sobered up, looking at his Second Lieutenant. "I've never run into mercs before. Does White Pine use them a lot?"

  "I don't know, but I know they deliver a lot of supplies."

  "Yeah, I heard that too." McGrew grabbed his shower pack and tossed it onto his duffle on the floor. "Don't they also provide security for some of the higher ups in the interim government?"

  "So I've heard. Why you asking?"

  McGrew didn't answer for a long second. "Those mercs saved our asses."

  "Ouch."

  Jake chuckled. "You don't know the half of it."

  Ted smiled again shaking his head. "Just think, in twenty-four hours you'll be stateside drinking whiskey, smoking a cee-gar, and making love to some lovely little thing." His hands made the curves of a female body. "Toast'em then and be happy that you're out of this hell hole."

  Jake smiled as he rolled into bed. "Right now, I'm going to get some shut eye. Don't call me unless the building's on fire."

  Ted chuckled as he closed McGrew's door behind him.

  Jake got comfortable but couldn't fall asleep. His mind kept wandering back to the big brown eyes staring at him from under that helmet.

  CHAPTER 2

  Jake McGrew shook his head before entering the White Pine offices. How in the hell did I let myself get talked into this? He adjusted his tie again. It felt strange to be dressed as a civilian. He glanced down at his white shirt and gray pants. He had just spent over two years in Iraq, there even before the war began, and here he was being interviewed for a job with White Pine.

  If the pay was as good as the headhunter, Mr. Bower, had informed him, he might consider it. And within a couple of months he could retire with more money than he dreamed. Being ex-Special Forces carried a lot of weight with independent contractor companies. Specialized soldiers were in high demand since they were trained to be the best. He would get top pay.

  With a smile, he pushed open the door. Still, he had sworn to never return to the 'big sand box' across the water. However, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime. And there was something else, something pushing him to do this, something he didn't want to acknowledge. He shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts as he walked into the cooler interior.

  "Ah, good afternoon, Mr. McGrew. Mr. Zingerton is waiting. Can I get you a drink or anything?" a lovely blond receptionist behind the counter asked. Talking on the phone next to her was another stunning blond.

  "Uh, no. Thank you. I'm fine," Jake said, barely stopping his eyes from tracing up and down the women. Both were model material, with large breasts, thin waists, and legs that didn’t stop. Damn. Were all the women in this company beautiful?

  A huge smile flashed his way. "Very well then. Please follow me."

  Jake followed, his eyes feasting on the softly swaying hips contained in the dark blue dress in front of him. He barely acknowledged the greeting of the two men that passed him in the hall.

  She turned when they reached the end of the hall, and opening the door, smiled. "Mr. Zingerton, Mr. McGrew to see you."

  "Thanks, Dorothy."

  Jake stepped into the room, his eyes swung to the man standing up from behind a desk. The door closed quietly behind him. Jake cleared his throat silently and walked toward the man.

  Zingerton smiled and extended his hand. "Hello, Mr. McGrew. Bower has already sent us your qualifications." The two men shook hands. "Please get comfortable." He swung his hand to indicate the leather, high back chairs in front of the big mahogany des
k. After they got settled, he leaned back. "So, you're only two weeks out of Iraq?"

  "Yes."

  "How long was your tour?"

  "Twenty-five months, twelve days."

  Zingerton nodded. He picked up several sheets of paper. "Your jacket shows that you participated in a lot of important missions."

  Jake didn't let the surprise show. Those were confidential records for military eyes only. "My jacket?"

  Zingerton laughed. "We have access to a lot of, uh, 'things' that others don't. I've also checked your security clearance. Highest possible level." He looked the former Special Forces Ranger in the eyes. "Let's cut through the usual bullshit and talk money. We want you. How much will it take to have you work for us?"

  Jake smiled at Zingerton's enthusiasm, knowing that he had a lot of bargaining power. "First of all, what sort of missions would my job entail?"

  "Well, we deliver supplies to areas of contention. We pick up and deliver…"

  "I thought we were cutting through the shit."

  Zingleton chuckled. "Yes. We work in primarily four locations: Iraq, Afghanistan, Somalia and Saudi Arabia. We have a few minor bases in other places, but if you join us, you'll be sent to either Afghan or Iraq."

  "And what do 'we' do?"

  "We deliver supplies." Zingleton held up his hand to stop Jake's protest. "That however is sometimes used as a front to supply other things. We run security for many people in both areas. We do recon for, well, intelligence people, military and such. We provide support and protection for other divisions in our company."

  "I heard that this company is also a front used by the CIA."

  Zingerton shook his head. "We're an independent contractor. However, I'll not blow shit up your pants, McGrew, we do sometimes 'help' them. Joint operations with them and the military are not unusual."

  Jake narrowed his eyes. Dangerous work. But for the money needed to buy me off, it would have to be. "My job?"

  "Well, at first you'll be assigned to a regular crew, until you get your feet wet. Then we'll want you in charge. We like former military members in command, that way we know what sort of work to expect. So at first, you'll be under another crew chief." Zingerton leaned forward with a smile. "I see I have your attention. So, how much to get you?"