Desperate Situations

by Holden, Abby

  ***

  McGrew stepped into another White Pine office―this one in Germany. He was assigned to Afghanistan and was meeting his crew chief and team as they were also being transferred.

  From Zingerton he had learned that this crew was considered the best in the company. They had the best record of successful missions and were 'self-contained' but had just lost a member and he was that person's replacement. This might make it hard to fit in.

  "I'm looking for Cartwright's crew. I'm Jake McGrew," he said to the office manager on second floor.

  This older, gray haired lady gave him a critical eye before answering. "Room four." She pointed down the hall. "Have you heard about the loss of one…?"

  "Thanks. Yes, I have. Have they been together long?"

  "Many months and in this line of work, that is something." She paused checking out a computer screen. "Are you fully equipped, Mr. McGrew?"

  "Yes, Ma'am. When do we leave?"

  "They were waiting for the replacement."

  "Good. I hate hurry up and waits."

  The lady finally smiled and pointed down the hall.

  With a thanks nod, Jake walked in the direction indicated, stopping briefly at the door. He took a deep breath and opened it.

  The room went silent at his entrance.

  McGrew quickly looked the room over, typical conference room, beige table and chairs. Table littered with papers. Seven people total. Closest to him were three black men and two lighter-tanned men. His eyes narrowed at seeing Cowboy smiling at him. Then he slid his eyes to the head of the table, not surprised to see the same big, brown eyes staring at him, amused.

  "Hello."

  McGrew grimaced slightly. "Yeah. I'm to report to Cartwright." His eyes panned to Cowboy to see him chuckling silently. The entire room snickered. "Let me guess…" He looked back at the Ghost. "You're Cartwright."

  "That's right." Megan smiled. "Can you handle it?"

  "I don't have a problem taking orders from women."

  "We'll see," Megan said with a hand wave to the chair at the end of the table. "Have a seat. I'll introduce you to the crew that you'll be working with. You've already met Cowboy and Gunner. Cowboy's real name is Kelly Beaton. We're the main pilots. Gunner's name is Alvaro Iniguez. He's obviously the gunner on any mission requiring extra support." Megan nodded toward the other lighter-tanned man. "Next to Gunner is Geraldo Varela, from Chili like Gunner. Fisher is usually in charge of anything computer related. These other three guys are from South Africa, Amadi Baragwanath or Tiny, Kofi Massyn or Bosser, and Sefu Yzelle or Chips. They do almost everything. We'll pick up the other two pilots when we get in country." She paused. "My name's Megan Cartwright. We get real close, real fast, especially in Afghan and Iraq. Sometimes all we have are ourselves. At the base, we use our names. In the field, we only use our designations. For safety."

  McGrew nodded understanding.

  "We have no ID on us for most missions. If you go missing, you can't be tracked to the company. And on some missions, they won't even verify that you work for them." She gave McGrew a hard look. "You did understand that from your contract, right?"

  Jake's eyes hardened. "Of course."

  "Good." Megan gave him a big smile. "Your designation for the time being…"

  "Let me guess," McGrew interrupted with a disgusted look. "It's Cupcake."

  The entire room burst out laughing. Megan just smiled at him. "Don't worry. When I give the bosses the thumbs up that you're trained and ready to go, you can pick your own designation."

  "Beautiful," Jake said under his breath. His future, and more importantly, the pay increase commensurate with leading a crew, depended on this hard-nosed, extremely attractive female. And yet, somehow, he wasn't at all disappointed.

  The biggest of the South Africans was still chuckling. "Don't worry Cupcake, my designation is Tiny. You'll get used to it."

  McGrew smiled at him then turned back to Cartwright. "When do we leave?"

  Megan glanced at her watch. "Right now. Is your gear here?"

  "Downstairs, Chief." The name came automatically to him, since pilots of most military helos were Warrant Officers referred to always as 'Chief.'

  "Chief. I like that." Megan gave Jake a bright smile. "Everyone is confined to base for a week, or until you get the obligatory lecture from the head of the base, Fahim Masood, and you learn some of the customs of the country." Megan stood. "Let's load up."

  ***

  Two hours later, they were quickly approaching Afghanistan. The three South Africans and two South Americans were playing cards.

  Jake stretched and glanced around. Cowboy was talking with the pilots and it looked like the five others were arguing over the game. Turning his head toward the back of the plane, he saw Megan sitting by herself, staring at her feet, deep in thought.

  His eyes narrowed watching her. If she was as talented as he heard, this might not be too bad. He saw her swipe her nose. With a puzzled look and quick glance at the others, he stood and made his way back to the vacant seat next to her.

  "Mind if I sit?"

  She waved a hand to do so.

  "Look, we sort of got off on the wrong foot in Iraq."

  Megan's head came up.

  Jake offered his hand. "Truce?"

  "Sure." She shook then went back to studying her shoes.

  "That's one hell of a thoughtful look."

  "I'm busy. If you don't mind, I need to think. Was there anything specific you wanted?" She didn't even look at him.

  "Nope. Just wanted to start fresh."

  Her head rose at that, meeting his blue, searching eyes. "Don't screw up and we'll get along fine."

  "I'll do my best, Chief." He smiled at her then moved off to see Cowboy watching them from the aisle near the card game. As he got alongside the other pilot, he made a motion with his head back to Megan. "Is she okay, Cowboy?"

  "Yeah." Cowboy's eyes drifted back to the lady, who was once more contemplating her footwear. "Just a lot on her mind."

  "She said that. Is she worried about me being in the squad?"

  Cowboy gave him a big smile. "No. She'll enjoy dressing you down, 'iffan you don't live up to her standards, but don't worry 'bout that. Course, she is gonna be harder on you."

  "Because I was Special Forces?"

  "Nope. 'Cause you gonna be leading your own crew. She's trained four crew leaders since I've known her. She takes her responsibility in that respect real serious."

  Jake turned his attention back to the lady.

  "Right now she's probably still goin' over our last mission. She hates to lose a member of the crew."

  "Was it bad?"

  Cowboy shrugged. "Don't worry 'bout Meg, Jake. She's tough. As soon as we hit Affie, she'll be back to being social, and being a pain in your ass." He smiled at the ex-military man.

  Jake chuckled and nodded at Tiny who was inviting him to join the card game. He gave one last look at Megan then sat with the group of guys.

  ***

  Cowboy's smile faded as Jake sat down―his eyes still staring at Megan. Then he took a breath and headed straight for her. "Hey, Meg."

  "Kelly."

  Cowboy sat without asking. "Cheer up, Darlin'. The flight lasts just another forty minutes."

  Megan snorted.

  "I know you hate to be anywhere but in the driver's seat."

  "Give it up, Kelly. What the hell do you want?"

  "What a lovely disposition you're in. No wonder Jake thought you were on the rag."

  "I'm just thinking. You know I hate to be interrupted when I'm working."

  "Is that a hint, Girl?"

  "Yeah, but like you'd ever take it." Megan finally looked at him with a smile.

  Cowboy smiled back then it faded. "Look Meg, there was nothin' you could do. We talked 'bout this."

  "I know." She sighed. "I just hope Truman can get his body back. I wanted to at least retrieve it. Damn, they swarmed all over us."

  He patted her leg. "It's on
ly because of your flying skills that all the rest of us made it out alive. That's seven for one, Girl."

  Megan snorted again.

  Cowboy chuckled. "Just think 'bout how you get to rag on Cupcake."

  Megan chuckled too. "Did you see his file?"

  "Nope."

  "He's good. Damn good." She looked up at the group to see the five guys teaching Jake the card game. "He won't require much training, mostly just getting used to the way we do things."

  "Bet that don't stop ya from giving him shit though."

  "Ya got that right."

  He winked at her with a knowing grin as he stood.

  Megan made a funny face. "You know that's not going to happen. As a member of my crew, he's off limits."

  "Right."

  "Shut up."

  "Right," Cowboy said as he walked away with a huge grin on his face.

  Megan shook her head as her eyes followed him down the aisle then drifted to the group playing cards. Why did Jake McGrew have to be so good-looking, so good at his job? And in my crew? He had a great personality too, evident by the fact that he was already being accepted into the group after such a short time.

  She studied him as he asked several questions about the South African card game. Maybe she had pegged him wrong in Iraq. It was just a normal reaction toward a Special Forces Ranger. Or maybe he was just playing nice to get his own crew and extra pay.

  Jake laughed at that moment.

  Megan smiled. Damn. His light brown hair, more a dirty blond really, and blue eyes were just the right shades of how she liked them. And his body! Even the fatigues and body armor he wore when she picked them up in Iraq couldn't hide the nice physique. From his file, he was also extremely intelligent. Usually that combination ripped her the wrong way, as was testament to her usual stance on specialized military soldiers. But he was just…

  Megan quickly replaced the soft smile with a more neutral look as he turned toward her. Their eyes met across the passenger area, his blue eyes piercing hers and seemed to look deep within. It made her strangely uncomfortable, as though he could see inside and know her secrets. She broke the look first to pull out the mission folder from the briefcase at her feet―the file she was supposed to be familiar with by the time they got to the Afghanistan base.

  But now her heart rate was elevated. She took several deep breaths to calm herself so she could concentrate. But she couldn't. Slowly she raised her eyes to watch the card game again.

  ***

  "No, no. I said it needed to be refitted. This doesn't look like you did anything. Was the new part installed?" Megan asked checking out the Pave Hawk in front of her where it sat outside the hanger. She was pointing to an area right behind the engine.

  "The work order said it was to be done by today. It is," said Marshall Kittering. He put his hands on his hips, disgusted. He was an American National but of Afghanistan origin. Speaking the language and having relations in the country helped him reach the position he was in as assistant head mechanic.

  Megan took several deep breaths. "Fine. Is the work done on the Chinook?"

  "Yes." The mechanic stuck his hands in his pockets.

  "Okay. When I take this bird up, Kit, you're riding along."

  "Why?"

  "Because…" Megan leaned closer to him. "If we crash, I want you to be with us. Our lives depend on these machines. That means everything you do on this aircraft, including the most mundane things, affect our lives. Be ready to go in fifty minutes when I finish with the pre-flight check."

  "But…"

  "Yes?" Megan turned a disgusted look at him.

  "Nothing. I'll be ready."

  "Good," Megan said as the big, burly mechanic hurried away. Another body moved in close.

  "You seem to carry a lot of weight around here." Jake had an amused tone to his voice.

  "They don't realize how important it is to have things running at the highest performance." She glanced toward the hanger. "Having an absolutely smooth running machine has saved my crew's ass more than once. You think White Pine could spring for some people who understand this." She took a deep breath to calm herself.

  Jake chuckled. "Stay on top of them, Chief. We don't want an incompetent screwing us up."

  "Yeah. Did you need something? I thought I assigned you to help with inventory in the main stockroom."

  "You did. It's done. Cowboy sent me here. He said I could help 'purtty up the steel steed.' And to tell you, he'd be out to help preflight after he 'wiggled the wiggly.' " McGrew hesitated. "As your faithful messenger, I delivered it." He gave a formal bow.

  Megan chuckled. "Cupcake, there's two things you gotta learn about me. I don't take ass kissing well, but I do like a sense of humor."

  "In that case Chief, care to tell me what you want me to do next?" Jake asked with a smile.

  Megan reached into the Pave Hawk grabbing a flat, thin box. She pulled out a large piece of white paper. As she set the box back into Pave Hawk, she caught his puzzled look. "Have you ever put on transfers?"

  "Transfers?"

  Megan lifted one corner to show the reversed painting of a pale rider on a horse. She gave the ex-military man a wry smile. "I get chewed out every time I put these on the choppers, but once they're on, they're bitches to get off." She looked around the area, especially into the hanger. "Spray the nose of the cockpit with adhesive." She pointed to a spray can sitting near the box. "Let it dry, then peel away the backing and it'll stick on. You get one shot at it, Cupcake. There's Death for the Pave Hawk and Famine for the Black Hawk. One for each side." She handed it to him. "Make'em look 'purtty.' "

  Jake chuckled. "Sure thing, Chief."

  Megan continued with the preflight check. It took over half an hour to go over every inch of the helicopter. These hadn't been flown in eight months, so they had been mothballed, and it was a very thorough inspection. Finally, she was in the cockpit checking out dials when McGrew walked up and waited. She glanced at him.

  "All 'purttied' up, Chief. What's next?"

  Megan glanced out the cockpit door at the Black Hawk. The nose art was in just the right spot on the front. She also saw the other two pilots finishing with pre-flighting the Black Hawk. "Good job."

  "Thanks. What else?"

  Megan glanced at her watch then leaned out the cockpit toward the back of the aircraft. "Hey, Kelly. How long?"

  "I'm just finishin' up. Give me two."

  She turned her eyes to Jake. "We need to give the 'steel steeds' a little test flight. Take a break until we get back, assuming the others are done with their jobs. If not, help them."

  With two quick taps on the side of the helicopter, Jake moved off to the nearby hanger.

  Megan watched him walk away, admiring his butt and general physique. She shook her head. He's off limits. Totally off limits. Completely and absolutely off limits.

  ***

  "What the hell?" Megan said, noticing the light that flashed on the collective she held in her left hand. It was the instrument with which she controlled the pitch of the blades. The light indicated there was a problem in engine number one.

  "What?" Cowboy asked, swinging his head toward her.

  "Light. Problem in number one." She intoned quickly and keyed the microphone to the back of the helicopter. "Kit, look out the left side and see if we're smoking… Kit?"

  "Damn it." Megan glanced at Cowboy who was looking into the back of the helicopter.

  "He's not plugged in."

  "Do you see anything coming out?"

  "No." Cowboy was straining to look around back.

  "I'm going to turn." Even as she said so, she slightly turned the helicopter left to see if she was trailing smoke.

  As soon as she began the maneuver, Cowboy spoke, "Yep. Smoke outta one."

  Megan grimaced. "That oil line. I told him―"

  "You got smoke, Death," came from the other helicopter over the radio.

  "Yeah, we see it. We're shuttin' number one down and headin' back," Cowbo
y said. He always handled communication and navigation while they flew, leaving the pilot to fly.

  "We'll follow you."

  "Can we make it back?" Cowboy asked Megan.

  "I'm sure as hell gonna try. You know if I put it down now, it'll be stripped before you can count to ten, not to mention if we stay with it, the locals will kill to get the parts," she cursed softly.

  She shut down the engine and turned again to see if the craft was still smoking. The smoke was less but still there. In her ear, she heard Cowboy alerting White Pine Tower that they were returning with a crippled aircraft.

  ***

  McGrew returned from the soda machine in the main office complex to join the rest of the crew when he saw several people hurrying out the door heading to the hanger. With a puzzled look, he changed directions and followed. The other members of his crew were taking a break near the patio.

  There was a scramble of people coming out of the hanger too. Jake quickened his steps to join the small group standing outside the hanger entrance on the airstrip side. Worried looks were on everyone's faces.

  "Problem?" Jake asked Corn, one of the mechanics.

  "Yeah, the Ghost is having trouble with her Bird." He glanced back into the hanger.

  McGrew followed his glance to see the two man firefighting team of mechanics quickly donning gear. Jake's face hardened. "Is it that serious?"

  Corn nodded. "Could be. Any other pilot probably would have ditched it. Then the battle becomes who gets to it first, the locals or us. The parts of a helicopter go for mighty high prices on the black market. We had a crew, a year ago or so, that ditched a chopper, and it was never seen again. All we found was the fuselage. Totally stripped." Corn shook his head. "Serious shit. Cartwright hates to loose a bird."

  Jake turned to see the crowd getting bigger, including the rest of his crew, as news spread across the White Pine compound.

  By this time, they could hear the whirl of the two returning choppers. The Black Hawk was pacing the smoking Pave Hawk. A small black cloud trailed the crippled helicopter.