Page 4 of Mending Fences

At the same moment, the big mid-ships elevator engaged and lifted a helo and her two crew chiefs up from the Hangar Deck. Fin had crossed half the way to it before she noticed something strange about the silhouette.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Not a thing,” Kara informed her.

She could hear Fence laughing at her, but couldn’t look away from the odd shape.

“What?” Her voice came out sharper than she’d intended.

“I guess there’s things even you don’t know about the 5D.” Fence never took offense when her temper barked, which always cooled her right back down to normal. Almost always. When she really stepped in it and couldn’t find her way back out, he’d comment about what a fine Irish temper she had. She’d forgotten about his ability to always forge her an out when she felt snippy, something she’d always had to strain to do for herself. It had made him easy to be around.

Tom Schaw. There were a lot of good memories wrapped up around that man. Long ago and half a world away, but so very good. Their final night together, the best of them all. They’d danced close, laughed a lot, and finished the night as close as two bodies could get in his daddy’s hay barn.

Well, she wouldn’t rise to the bait this time, but there was definitely something wrong with this helo. It was…

“Mother Mary and Joseph,” she felt as breathless as Fence had sounded on spotting her.

Five years. She’d flown five years for the Night Stalkers and never seen one. Oh, it was no secret they existed but to see one in the flesh, or rather in the carbon fiber, was a whole new experience. As she approached and could see it more clearly in the low light, it just kept getting better.

“I get to fly a Stealth Hawk?”

“The only kind of Hawk the Night Stalkers keep on this ship,” Fence assured her.

She looked down at the deck, but she hadn’t paid enough attention when passing upward along the stairs. Four or five birds, hidden by shadows below…all stealth? She’d targeted the 5D because they were one of the best. Now she’d have to consider what that wish had gotten her into. She rose slightly on her toes and clicked her boot heels together three times but the ship didn’t whirl up into the sky and take her away. The Stealth Hawk continued to squat solidly before her.

This was real.

The distant SAR bird with its four crew and this beautiful bird were all that were in view on the night-shrouded deck. A glance aloft showed the dim red lights in the control tower atop the island, but no other signs of life on the ship.

Angular joints connected panels with odd curves that must scatter radar in very strange ways. When she reached out to touch the surface, it was more like the rubber of a car tire. Not the usual slick aluminum carapace textured only by the use of the matte-black paint she was used to.

The crew chiefs had already pre-flighted the bird, but they led her and Fence on a quick tour including modified engine intake and exhaust ports to mask their heat signature, large fairings over the main and tail rotor hubs to cut noise, and even a fine gold layer in the flat windscreens to avoid detection of any electronic noise from the cockpit’s instruments.

“Take it up and wring her out a bit. She’s a right noble steed.” Then Major Cowboy turned serious. “Stay south of the ship, maximum ten klicks out, assuming you want to avoid live fire.”

“Incoming or outbound?” Just how active a warship was this. No, in its own way, the Peleliu was as stealth as the helicopter. Depending far more on being quiet than brandishing any swords.

Kara’s glance to the north said they were far too close to the Yemen coast for any airspace in that direction to be the least bit friendly.

Justin and Kara then headed back toward the Peleliu’s command island. Probably going straight to the most secure space on the ship, Air Plot. It’s where all the ship’s security would be monitored, from the spinning radar atop the mast to underwater sonar. So, for her flight, they were going to go play Big Brother and Sister…well, Wife—watching their every move. Fine.

“You up for this, Fence?” She was always careful not to show her nerves, but around him it felt okay to let them out a little.

“Do we have a choice?”

“Not if we want to fly with the 5D.”

He tipped his head in that way he had as if to say, Then why are we still standing here?

So, she climbed aboard into the right-hand pilot’s seat.

“Haven’t sat left seat in a while,” Fence remarked after he’d circled around the nose and climbed into the copilot’s position. “But don’t worry, I know I’m no Night Stalker.”

“Step One: get rid of your helmet. Your head looks close enough to Stick’s size to use his.”

“Why?” he clutched his helmet like a boy not wanting to give up his favorite toy.

“Way more capabilities built into our headgear. You make a habit of this, and we’ll have to get you a custom-fit, but that takes a bit of doing.”

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