Desperate Situations

by Holden, Abby

  Jake's eyes still focused on the quickly approaching helicopters as he heard the two firefighting mechanics discussing possible situations.

  "Looks like she's got an oil fire."

  "Had. Look close. One of the engines is down."

  "That means she can't hover. She'll have to land on the wheels." Both jumped into the small fire truck, and it pulled out of the hanger to stop near the runway, waiting.

  Suddenly the Pave Hawk dipped and swung to the side.

  Jake sucked up an involuntary breath. His heart stopped for a brief second until Megan got control of the helicopter. Quickly, it descended at a steep angle toward the end of the runway.

  "Come on, Megan," Jake whispered, watching the helicopter approach more like a fixed wing aircraft.

  Death touched down once, lifted slightly, then put back down as it rolled down the runway. The other engine was cut and it glided to a stop.

  Jake glanced around at the still gathering crowd to see most of his crew waiting anxiously while the fire apparatus accelerated onto the runway. As Famine landed a short distance away, Jake took off running toward the disabled aircraft followed by his crew.

  As soon as it was on the ground, Jake saw Kit the mechanic scramble out of the back. He moved to a safe distance and stood staring at the firefighters spraying the tail rotor area. He was breathing hard and whiter than his grease-smudged shirt.

  Jake slowed as he got closer to the crippled aircraft, especially when he saw a pissed off Megan exit the cockpit.

  Megan was already discussing the situation with the head mechanic and Corn when he got near. The firefighting guys were also investigating. All of them were pointing and moving from one side to the other in heavy discussion.

  A curse word caught McGrew's attention as he stood nearby assessing the situation. His head snapped up to see Cartwright heading toward the still pale mechanic standing off the side of the runway. He glanced at the others, and moved on an intercept course. But Cartwright moved fast. Jake got there right as Megan grabbed the shaken mechanic.

  "I told you to replace that oil line. If that had been a mission, we might all be dead, you…" Her eyes narrowed, her breathing fast as her fist rose.

  Jake grabbed Megan by the arm, breaking her hold on the mechanic, and with his other hand captured her clenched fist. She struggled, but he turned and pinned her arms to her sides. "Get him away," Jake ordered Gunner who was following behind him.

  Megan continued to struggle against his body, cursing softly under her breath at the quickly retreating mechanic. "Calm down," Jake said to the woman in his arms as Gunner moved Kit out of sight into the hanger.

  "Let me go. Let me at him."

  "Calm down!" Jake ordered. After one last struggle, he could feel her muscles relaxing. Still he held her.

  "McGrew let go. Now."

  "Are you calm?"

  "Damn it. Let me go or…"

  "Or what?" Jake asked with a smile as he released his hold on her.

  Cartwright turned and glared at him. "Don't ever do that again," she whispered through clenched teeth.

  Jake held up his hands in surrender.

  Megan stalked over to join the head mechanic inspecting the disabled helicopter with a backward glare at him.

  Jake shook his head as he watched her walk away. A chuckle sounded over his shoulder. He turned to see Cowboy standing behind him.

  "That's one way to grab the bull by the horns."

  A smile flashed on his face as he glanced again at the three people working on the helicopter. The firefighters were gathering up their equipment. Jake turned to the others in the crew standing there. "Hey guys, show's over. Why don't you head back to work?"

  "Will do, Jake," Tiny said and motioned for the others to follow.

  Jake stepped up to Cowboy's side standing near Death. "Is it fixable?"

  Cowboy nodded. "Not irreparable, just dangerous." He glanced back into the hanger. "I'd hazard to say that the shit-head didn't even replace the line like he was 'posed to, probably just wiped it down."

  Not knowing anything about the workings of the helicopter, McGrew was lost as to the technical terms being thrown around.

  It wasn't long before Megan stepped up to the two men. "McGrew, my office. Twenty minutes." Her brown eyes were hard and threatening.

  "Yes, Chief," Jake said immediately and watched her angry stride as she followed Fahim Masood, the Afghanistan head of the base, back toward the hanger. He turned to Cowboy. "Looks like I stepped in it."

  Cowboy slapped him on the back with a huge grin. "Cow patty city."

  ***

  Megan hurried down the hall to find Jake waiting outside her office. She didn't look at him as she strode past. She tossed her helmet on the couch and threw her flight gloves into the corner, then swiveled to face him standing in front of her desk. She glared, but his expression was neutral.

  "You wanted to see me, Chief?"

  "Don't ever do that again."

  Jake didn't answer.

  "Do I make myself clear?"

  "Crystal."

  "Good. Dismissed." But he didn't move as his blue eyes held hers. "What?"

  Jake just shrugged.

  She narrowed her eyes, noticing that his blue eyes were amused. "Get the hell out of here."

  "Sure, Chief."

  Megan watched him walk out, then flopped down into her chair. That had been too close. Both times. First with the bad oil line―that had almost been deadly. It was a good thing she had chosen to take a longer than usual test flight, because if she hadn't, she might have been caught with her pants down under fire.

  Then the second close call. She'd almost lost it with the mechanic. She had had problems with Kit on her last rotation to Afghanistan. After the first incident, she had specifically left orders that he was never, ever to touch her helicopters. Now this. She made it clear to management that he needed to be dismissed. They complied only after Masood had dressed her down about coming unglued. If McGrew hadn't held her back, she might be looking for work.

  Not that finding another job would be hard. She was constantly getting calls from White Pine's competition trying to lure her away. No, she would be out of work maybe ten minutes, just long enough for the competition to hear.

  McGrew.

  Megan sighed.

  He'd been right to stop her. But did he have to do it in front of the crew and everyone else on base? At least he wasn't smug about it. Damn him. And he had held her so easily. She hated that most of all. Being smaller and without muscle mass, she was at a huge disadvantage. Only her flying talent and her other less known 'ability' kept her in charge. Damn him anyway.

  She took a deep, cleansing breath.

  CHAPTER 3

  "Okay people," Megan began the crew meeting the next morning. "We got a simple job today. We have to ferry food and medical supplies to a small village in the mountains." She paused to check her sheet. "Since Death is down, I'll be flying Famine with Punky. Cowboy will be flying the Chinook with Stick, but that leaves us more vulnerable than I like. It'll be four days before Death'll be ready with a part cannibalized from another craft, and another week or two before the new part comes in. So until then we limp by." She looked down the table at Tiny. "This means you need to work fast and hard. The less time on the ground, the better. Got it?"

  Tiny nodded. "Yes'em."

  "Gunner, you're in the Chinook with Cowboy. I want the best protection for the ground crew. Guys, if he starts firing, haul ass back to the chopper. Bosser, you're with me in Famine. As usual, we'll be circling overhead providing cover. The rest of you will be the unloading crew. Keep your guns locked and loaded. You never know when al Qaeda or the Taliban will show up." Megan looked at Jake. "Tiny will instruct you about procedures for unloading and stuff. You're to follow Tiny's orders. Got it, Cupcake?"

  "Got it, Chief."

  Megan nodded back at him. "I don't want a repeat of Iraq. Understood?" She looked around to see everyone agreeing with her. "The hel
icopters are loaded. We leave in ten minutes."

  The group stood as one to leave.

  "McGrew stay." Megan stood, slowly gathering her paperwork. She finally looked up after the room cleared. "You were right to stop me from punching Kit. Thanks."

  "Ouch." Jake smiled. "I bet that hurt to admit."

  "Worse than you know." Megan smiled back. "Just don't do it again."

  "Got it, Chief." Jake winked then left.

  ***

  Jake and the others were unloading supplies as fast as possible. They had been at work for fifteen minutes, and he was not only out of breath from the high altitude but was also dripping wet. He swiped his brow and grabbed another box, this one marked 'penicillin.' After setting it on the pile, he hurried back to the Chinook. As he waited his turn to get another box from those inside, he glanced at the surroundings.

  They were in a large valley. There were few trees here, although the hillsides were carpeted in green from small bushes and tough grasses. Most of the valley was covered in a rust-colored hew. At one end was the main village, a small cluster of about twenty houses. They looked crude from the air, with flat tops and looked like they were made of mud. Small corrals near each house kept goats and sheep contained.

  He'd read that the major crop in the country, especially in this poor mountainous region, was poppy―from which opium and heroin were made. Hence, the rusty color of the valley floor from the poppies blooming. The only other means of industry for these people was raising sheep. Large flocks were seen on the hillsides, but this far up into the mountains, poppy was the biggest cash crop. Even though extracting poppy gum was very labor intensive, it paid better than sheep farming.

  Three crew members plus ten local Afghans were unloading the helicopter, which was running with blades slowly swirling.

  The men worked in silence. Jake had asked Tiny earlier what was in the boxes, but Tiny informed him not to ask such questions. Sometimes only the crew chiefs knew what was being delivered, and many times even they didn't know.

  Jake was handed a huge, heavy, unmarked box. As he hurried to the pile, he glanced up to see the other helicopter circling. It was taking wide passes around the valley.

  As Jake sat the box down, a mortar hit close by, sending locals diving for cover and the members of the crew running for the helicopter, which was hovering a foot off the ground.

  As he climbed in the back, he mentally counted the crew. One was missing. "Where's Fisher?" Jake asked Tiny.

  Tiny shrugged and began pushing boxes out with no care as to the contents. "Help me empty the back."

  McGrew hesitated then glanced back toward the last place he'd seen the Chilean. Another mortar hit, closer this time. The locals were grabbing a few boxes and making for cover away from the pile and the helicopter.

  "Cupcake!"

  At that moment, Jake saw movement behind the boxes. With only a glance back to the South African, he un-slung his rifle and hit the ground running. Machine gunfire swept near the chopper as he dove for cover behind the boxes.

  Sure enough it was Fisher, slowly getting up.

  Jake grabbed him and helped him behind the boxes. "Wait." He peeked out but heard the whine of another incoming mortar. Pushing the still stunned Fisher to the ground, he dove on top of him. The mortar landed several feet away spraying them with dirt, weeds, and rocks. Jake stayed covered for a second more then stood up, grabbed the Chilean by the back of his collar and hauled him up. Half carrying, half dragging his companion, Jake scrambled back to the helicopter now hovering two feet off the ground.

  Cowboy swung it around as Gunner began firing in the direction of the incoming rounds. He didn't have a shot in hell of hitting anything; he was just providing cover for the returning crewmen.

  But the firing had stopped, as had the incoming mortars.

  Jake glanced behind him while others helped Fisher into the back. Famine was hovering near the ridge of the small foothills nearby, the M60 door gun firing nonstop toward the ground. With a smile at Tiny, Jake jumped into the back and Cowboy accelerated up and away. McGrew slid the door closed and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Fisher rubbed his forehead.

  "Are you okay, Fisher?" Jake yelled above the noise of the engines.

  "Si. Gracais. Thank you." Fisher smiled still rubbing his head, a red spot forming a goose egg.

  "What happened?" Tiny asked.

  "One local. We collided in…" Fisher made a motion with his hands, slamming them together. "Hit head. I fell."

  Jake patted him on the back.

  "You have saved my life, Cupcake. Muchas gracias."

  "Nah," Jake said, disarming his M-4. "Just lending a hand." He glanced over to see Tiny frown. "Did we get everything unloaded?"

  "Yes. No thanks to you. It only took several shoves," Tiny said, a disgusted look on his face.

  "Good," Jake said, ignoring him.

  A red blinking light flashed near the handset in the back. Tiny grabbed the nearest helmet and put it on. He listened for a few seconds then yelled to Jake, "Ghost wants to see you as soon as we land." The smile didn't quite make it to his face.

  Jake sighed but nodded. What a pain.

  ***

  Jake finished cleaning the back of the Chinook until both helicopter crews were in the hanger. Then he walked up to the two pilots having a heavy discussion near Famine. They both looked at him. Cowboy caught his eyes, then nodded at Megan and headed off in the same direction as the rest of the crew.

  "Yes, Chief?"

  "What happened down there?" Megan asked. Her hands anchored firmly on her hips. A scowl on her face.

  "I'm sure you already know."

  "True. But I want to hear from you what happened."

  "When the firing started, I headed to the aircraft as instructed. I noticed Fisher was missing. I found him. We took off."

  "I heard you disobeyed orders."

  Jake hesitated a fraction of a second. "Yes, I did. I felt that a man's life was worth more than some cargo. If that's going to get me in dutch, then it'll happen every time, Chief." He stared into her dark brown, almost black, hostile eyes. "You can disagree with me, but that's the way I am."

  Megan turned on her heel and started walking away. Over her shoulder she called, "Five minutes―crew meeting. Briefing room."

  Once more Jake sighed. God help me and protect me from this woman.

  Twenty minutes later, after the meeting, Jake tapped on her open office door. Megan sat at her desk shuffling papers. Jake shifted his weight on his feet. "You said you wanted to see me after the crew meeting, Chief?"

  Megan motioned for him to come in. "Pull up a chair, McGrew." She pointed to an empty chair near the wall next to her desk. "The worst part about being a crew chief is the paperwork. Sit. You start learning today."

  Jake's eyebrows flew up. Tiny had told him it was usually a couple of weeks and at least six missions before she started paperwork training.

  Megan missed the expression as she was once more concentrating on the file in front of her. "We get pre-mission information from management. These are put into the crew chief's box near the front desk. I'll show you where when we get done. Check it every morning and night, just in case the flight leaves at dawn." She hefted several sheets. "At the end of a mission, take the pre-info along with the crew chief's report, pilot's report and each person's report and file them. Each base is a little different, but the Head will acquaint you with the procedures when you first arrive." Megan paused with a glance at Jake. "God, I can't wait until they get us those promised laptops. You'd think we'd already have them."

  "Why don't we?"

  Megan shrugged. "Security. So I'm told. Seems stupid to me but hey, it's their money." She grabbed two sheets sitting on her desk. "This is my report and an inventory list of any items brought back with us. Tonight, the mechanics will give me a computer print out of the hours on the aircraft, a daily report, and such. That goes in here too." She paused. "Give it to the clerical, don't call them
secretaries." She winked at Jake. "Or depending on the base, just fax it in and file them in the cabinet."

  Jake nodded.

  "Here. Read my report." She held out a sheet of paper.

  Jake hesitated, slowly taking it. "Why?"

  "First of all, so that you learn the sort of things they want in them and the things they don't want said. This mission was fairly straight forward but some require more, how shall I put it, more creative writing. Second, I want you to read my comments."

  Jake quickly read the report. "Thanks."

  "No thanks necessary. What you did was right. Tiny should have thought more of the crew than the merchandise. He's merely in this for the money."

  "Aren't we all?"

  Megan leaned back in her chair and relaxed. "Yes, but…"

  "But?"

  "I would have thought it obvious to you."

  Jake leaned back too. "I don't understand."

  "This is natural to you. The squad's the most important thing. Never leave a man behind. Your buddies are more important than anything. Right?"

  Jake nodded.

  "That just can't be instilled in some of the guys here. They're true mercenaries. Money is tops to them. They're the ones you need to look out for. Tiny was mad at you because you thought of Fisher. Sometimes, if we return with merchandise, it comes out of our pay. It depends on the mission. He's here for money only, but he knows that soon you'll be in charge of your own crew. That means more money. He's jealous. I'll never give thumbs up to him for crew chief."

  "Because he wouldn't care if he left anyone behind?"

  "That's right. Out here, most of the time, we're all there is. I'd get rid of him, but he's actually a good worker. Still, he'll never be in charge if I have any say." Megan looked intently at Jake. "Good people are hard to find."

  Jake smiled. "Is it getting any easier?"

  Megan scrunched up her face. "What?"

  "The compliment. I bet that hurt to admit."

  "Ha, ha. I was being serious."

  "Then I'll return the compliment. You did good attacking the mortar installation. Thanks."