Desperate Situations

by Holden, Abby

Jake stood swiftly and grabbed Megan before she could leave. He gave her a breath stopping kiss, both hands holding her head still, tongue gently touching hers, then let go. "Thanks for the great ending to a delicious dream."

  "What?" Megan asked catching her breath.

  Jake spoke as he dressed. "You ended my dream in exactly the way I wanted it. Thanks." He grabbed his black T-shirt. His words were muffled by the shirt as he asked, "Do I need hot mission gear?"

  "What?"

  "Chief, hot mission gear?"

  "Uh, what? Uh, no. It's right outside of town. Won't take us but a couple of minutes, an hour at the outside."

  Jake leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Let's get going, Chief."

  "Uh, yeah," Megan said with another blush as she hurried out the door. What a fucking bubblehead. Stupid. Like a fucking school girl. Get a grip, you idiot.

  A chuckle followed her down the hall as he was gathering the rest of his equipment.

  ***

  Waves washed over him as he rolled onto his back, drawing a naked Megan on top of him. Her lips warm and succulent as her hands played at his chest, rubbing and massaging his chest and stomach muscles. She lowered herself onto him...

  A turbulent air pocket caused Jake to return to reality and the fact that he was in a helicopter. He chuckled as he adjusted his once more hard member to a more comfortable position in his pants. What a delicious dream!

  Jake smiled again at the thought of Megan standing in his room looking at him. He had been dreaming of her in a seaside cove. The temperature in the dream was just right as was the water tickling their legs in the surf. Jake almost sighed. It had been a long time since he'd had an erotic dream that gave him a reaction that lasted so long.

  The flight had been uneventful. They picked up the hurt kid and flew him to the army base hospital. Jake was pretty sure that the ten year old would loose his leg. There was not much holding the leg at the knee, several slivers of muscle and some flesh but not much else. Part of the foot was missing and it looked to Jake like the tibia was broken too. The other kid was dead.

  Megan explained on the trip over that this was not unusual. Every year White Pine did at least eight or nine of these transports. The military did more. Even after the land was cleaned by machines, bomb experts and lastly, and most effectively, the canines, there would occasionally be a landmine left. This sort of accident usually happened during spring with frost heave. Worse, since the mines were getting old and corroded by weather, they were more sensitive.

  Many people died each year due to Russian landmines. They had done a thorough job of it, too. Whole areas that could be used for agriculture and buildings had to be left empty because of the threat of mines. Military and civilian contractors were working around the clock to find and disarm mines. Megan said that even with that big of a resource concentrated in just the areas near the city, it would be another couple of years before they could be used.

  Jake had asked about the red rocks that they occasionally saw near roads. Megan informed him that there were mines in that area, but they hadn't been cleared yet. Also, the schools gave classes to every kid about land mines. The Afghanistan government even paid adults to take classes to learn about mines. Still, many people died each year or were maimed. Everywhere there were people walking without limbs.

  As they neared the White Pine base, Jake turned on the intercom. "Hey Ghost, there's lots of blood back here. Where's the disinfectant we use to wash it out? The usual bottle is empty. Where's the main supply?"

  "Inside the hanger, near the fire apparatus," Megan replied. "Is it bad?"

  "Shouldn't take long. I can handle it," Jake said with a smile.

  "Good thing, Cupcake. 'Cause that's why we fly. No clean up duty."

  Jake chuckled. He could tell that Megan was smiling from the tone of her voice. That almost got another rise out of him. Damn, she's driving me insane.

  It wasn't long and the helicopter landed. Jake jumped out, opened both doors to air it out, and hurried toward the hangar. As he bent over to dump the disinfectant into the smaller bottle, he noticed a stranger heading toward Famine.

  This guy was older, maybe late fifties. His gray hair was speckled with black and he wore black sunglasses. Not unusual in Afghanistan, almost everyone wore sunglasses. The thing that caught Jake's attention was his bearing and single-mindedness in heading to the chopper.

  Jake stopped what he was doing and headed back toward the hanger doors. What is going on? And who is this guy?

  Cowboy entered the big open doors and stopped Jake at the entrance. "Clean up the bird later."

  Jake's gaze came back to him. "Who is that?"

  Cowboy turned to look out the hanger doors. "An old friend of her family, according to Megan. Come on." He took Jake by the arm.

  With a quick move, Jake broke the hold on his arm. "What's going on?" Jake thumbed toward Famine.

  Megan was staring at the approaching man. The look on her face was neutral, yet she had turned pale. Gently, she placed her helmet inside the back of Famine. She jammed her hands into the pockets of the flight suit as she waited for the guy striding toward her.

  "Who is that guy?" Jake asked again.

  "I don't know his name," Cowboy said lowering his voice. He looked around quickly, noticing that Jake did the same, then looked back with Jake to the two on the runway. "But I'm thinkin' he useta work with Megan's Dad."

  "Doing?"

  "With The Company."

  "Company? White Pine?"

  "The CIA."

  The scene by the helicopter stopped their conversation. The man took her by the arm and the two of them slowly walked farther down the runway away from the hanger. Seconds later, Megan squatted down, one knee touching the runway. Head bowed.

  The man stood there looking down at her, a frown on his face. Then he looked in all directions. Finally, his gaze came back to Megan. He squatted next to her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

  Jake glanced at Cowboy, who shrugged. "Bad news," Jake guessed.

  "Probably."

  "Her dad?"

  "That would be my guess, pardner."

  The two men stood in the hanger entrance but neither of the people in the bright sunshine moved for a couple minutes. Finally, Megan nodded at the man and stood with him. She walked back to the helicopter with her head bowed then sat in the open door of Famine, her back to the hanger. The man spoke to her for a few seconds, then with a brisk step headed toward the main office building.

  Jake took a step out of the hanger.

  Cowboy grabbed his arm. "Leave her 'lone, Jake."

  Jake looked at the hand on his arm then back at Cowboy. "She needs a friend right now."

  "Ya don't know what was said."

  "It doesn't matter. She needs a… Let go of the arm, Kelly."

  "Look pardner…"

  "Let go of my arm before this turns ugly."

  Cowboy dropped his hand.

  Jake started walking toward Famine.

  "Jake."

  He half turned to look at him.

  "Don't take advantage of her."

  "I would never do that," Jake said, then walked with a quick stride toward the helicopter. As he neared Famine, he slowed down. What the hell am I doing? I'm not good at this sort of thing. Despite his gut twisting, he knew he had to do this.

  Jake stopped several feet from the helicopter to see Megan crying. Not sobbing, just tears flowing down her face. She held her helmet in her lap, tapping her fingers in a steady rhythm.

  Megan's eyes rose to meet his, then lowered just as fast.

  Jake hesitated, then slowly walked up to Famine. He sat down next to her and looked out over the runway, watching the birds fly in the distance. He folded his hands on his lap and waited. He didn't know what to say but maybe just his presence would comfort her. If not, he was sure she would tell him to leave. He didn't know how long it was before she spoke, her fingers were still beating a tempo on her helmet.

  "Dad sh
ot himself."

  Jake said nothing.

  She choked on the next word then cleared her throat and tried again. "He… He shot himself in the head. Didn't want to face brain cancer."

  Jake nodded with a glance.

  Tears flowed unchecked down her face. Her eyes followed the birds as they swooped down and up in air currents. The heat was oppressive, but neither of them felt it.

  Jake reached into the back of Famine and grabbed a water bottle from the small cooler. He knew the water wasn't cold but was better than nothing. He opened the bottle and handed it to her.

  Megan took it with a shaky hand. After taking a drink, she poured some of it over her head, then handed it back.

  Jake poured the rest over his head.

  "Guess he found his own answer."

  "I'm sorry, Megan."

  "Stubborn, old coot."

  Jake reached out and patted her leg. He left his hand resting on her thigh and gave a slight squeeze. Megan's hand covered his and curled around his fingers. They sat for a long time, sweating and watching the birds.

  ***

  The next night Jake found Megan sitting alone on the roof sipping from a water bottle. Grabbing a chair, he sat next to her. "Hey."

  Megan grunted.

  "Everyone else is in town."

  Megan's brown eyes flicked to him then back to the setting sun.

  "I was a little worried that you were nowhere to be found," Jake said with a smile. He got comfortable in the chair. The temperature was already starting to drop.

  "I wanted to be alone."

  "Do you want me to leave?"

  Megan turned to look him in the eyes. She returned her gaze to the mountains and took a while before she answered. "No."

  "Wanna talk about it?"

  "No."

  "Okay." Jake crossed his ankles.

  The sun was down and the stars out before the silence was broken. Megan tossed her water bottle across the rooftop in a burst of anger. "I hate this."

  Jake looked at her but said nothing.

  With a wave of her hand, she continued, "I shouldn't have signed the last contract. I have more than enough money." She took a deep breath.

  Jake watched her closely. She was trying desperately to control herself. He could see tears threaten to come, but this time she didn't let them.

  "I shouldn't have. Something told me not to. Damn it."

  "Then why did you?"

  "I can't even go home for his damn funeral. Not that he would care. He'd understand. He's missed plenty of my important dates. Why the hell should I care about his dead body?" She shook her head. " 'Listen to your gut, Meg.' He once told me. 'Forget the head. Listen to your heart and your gut. They'll always lead you down the right path.' But did I? No!" She slammed her flat hand down on the arm of the chair. "I shouldn't have… I should have stayed in the States like my gut was telling me. No. One more tour. One more, he said. 'Just one, Meg. We need you to do this.' Damn him." She shook her head again. "Nah. I agreed. It wasn't his fault, the bastard. No. I shouldn't have. Why did I? Huh?" She turned to Jake as though he could provide the answer.

  "Why did you?" Jake repeated, not knowing what she was talking about.

  "Why do we do anything?"

  "What?"

  Megan sighed.

  Suddenly she seemed to have given up her anger. She looked tired and depressed. Jake frowned. He understood that she was grieving, but this was odd to be switching so fast from anger to acceptance.

  "I don't understand. Megan?"

  "No. I guess you wouldn't."

  "Because I'm a man?"

  "Nope." Megan sprang from her chair and paced to the edge of the rooftop. She stood there for a long several seconds before returning to the chairs. "I've been accused of being an adrenalin junkie."

  Jake smiled. That would be an understatement. "Are you?"

  "Are you?"

  "Hell no. I hate getting shot at." Jake scratched his chest then stood next to her. "Honestly. Why are you here?"

  Megan chuckled. "Is that still bothering you?"

  "I'm curious why a woman would want to go to a place where they're opressed and put her life on the line?" He took a step closer to her.

  "I guess they're right, I'm an adrenaline junkie."

  Jake shook his head. "There are others ways to get your adrenaline fix."

  Megan looked into his eyes.

  The brown of her eyes were almost black in the darkness, but the heat began to rise as they shared a moment. The intense stare caused an electrical reaction. He could feel it from his toes to the ends of his hair. He'd never felt anything like this before. Never.

  "I guess… I'm damn good at what I do. There are a lot of things I do that I don't like, but then there are moments that I wouldn't trade for the world."

  Jake couldn't break eye contact.

  "Like now," Megan whispered and leaned toward him.

  With a smile, he met her lips and pulled her into him. He took her head in his hands with an aggressiveness that surprised him. He made her mouth, his. As she returned the aggressive kiss, he could feel her hands tracing down his chest, rubbing, teasing, and making his skin tingle through his shirt. They circled his waist and she gave his butt a rough massage.

  He wanted so much to move his hands from her head but knew if his hands strayed, they'd end up where neither of them wanted to be right now. It was testing his resolve. His body craved, no demanded, action. Pressure grew in his loins. Much more of this kiss and his resolve not to get involved with her would go completely over the side of the building.

  Abruptly she broke the kiss and pushed him away. "I… This can't happen. God, I'm so weak sometimes."

  Jake watched her move several steps away, shaking her head. "When can it happen?"

  "Never."

  "Even after I'm out of your crew?" Jake saw her nod. "Why?"

  Megan turned to look at him. In the darkness, it was too far away to see into her eyes.

  Jake waited.

  "I, I just can't let it. There's too much at stake. And I, I swore that I'd never again…" Megan kicked at a rock on the roof. "Look, Cupcake…"

  "Don't pull this Chief shit with me. Not now."

  "It can't happen, Jake. It can't. And I won't let it," Megan said softly.

  "I don't believe you." Jake moved a few steps closer so that he could actually look into her eyes. "Your lips, hands and body are saying the opposite."

  "Yeah well, they don't control me."

  "Maybe you should let them."

  Megan shook her head and took a step away.

  Jake could feel tension still building between them even as she moved away. His whole body ached for her.

  At that moment, the door to the roof opened. The same man from the day of the Independence Day celebration stepped out. He hesitated, then seeing them, walked closer. "Megan?"

  "Damn," Megan said softly under her breath. "Yeah?"

  "We need to talk," the man said glancing at Jake, then looked directly at her.

  Jake said nothing but his eyes panned from one to the other. The mysterious man was dressed like the rest of the White Pine crew, khaki pants, black t-shirt. Jake had only seen this guy on base once before. It was after that, that Megan and Gunner disappeared for over a day. She side-stepped his questions. Finally, he stopped asking. The man had authority. His bearing spoke of someone of importance. Not to mention Megan's acceptance of his authority.

  "When?" Megan asked.

  "Now."

  Megan glanced at Jake then followed the man back to the door. She paused. With a glance back at him, she walked inside.

  Jake stared at the closed door.

  Who is he? What authority did he have? Why is she so infuriatingly stubborn? And why am I falling in love with her?

  ***

  The next morning she was nowhere to be found. Nor was Gunner. Jake frowned after checking the crew chief assignment box. In it was a note from Megan.

  "Cupcake, see the mission
profile on my desk. Someone from Bob Timmerman's crew will fly you to do security at the runway construction site. You're in charge. Don't screw this up. The bigwigs are watching. Megan."

  Jake crushed the note in his hand as he stood there for a few seconds then hurried to his room. He had over an hour before the crew was due in the meeting room. He needed to get himself together.

  Shortly before the meeting, he headed down the hall toward Megan's office. He needed to find out if there was anything new happening at the runway. If not, this would be boring as usual. Usually he did a security pass then end up back near the helicopter to stand and talk with Megan and Kelly. Today would be like watching snot dry on a sidewalk.

  As he rounded the corner near the front desk where the assignment boxes were, he saw Zarin busily working on something where they filed reports. She hung up the phone. He smiled at her as she looked at him surprised. "Hello, Zarin."

  "Mr. McGrew," Zarin said in a higher than normal voice. Her eyes shifted and her hand fumbled with papers.

  Jake's eyes took in the paperwork. It was one of Megan's reports. He recognized the handwriting. He continued on his way with a puzzled look. He had spoken to Zarin many times, yet that was the first time she appeared nervous. He shook his head.

  He would never understand women. And to try to understand women from a foreign land was even worse. At least he could half way predict Megan's moods. Zarin had been raised differently, so he decided not to even try to understand her moods. Women are just unpredictable.

  ***

  After returning that night from security detail and getting the paperwork done, he went in search of Megan. The lady pilot was still gone. So was Gunner. He went in search of Cowboy. He found him in the hanger checking out Death.

  "What's going on?"

  Cowboy glanced up. He stared into Jake's eyes for a second then went back to work.

  "Where's Megan?" Jake waited but there was no answer forthcoming. "Is this another convert mission with Gunner?"

  Cowboy stood up and faced him.

  "I saw the three of you return the last time."

  "You'll never learn," Cowboy whispered.

  "Never learn what?"

  He got in Jake's face. "To keep your mouth shut. When you need to know, you'll know. If you don't learn that soon, they'll wash you out."