Page 30 of Confessions of an Apache Pilot

I sighed. “How much did you hear?”

“All of it. This room is the size of a shoe box. Brady and Ty only talk in shouts. No volume control whatsoever.”

“True enough.” I said. “So right to the point then, what's her deal? And how do I keep her from bolting?” I grabbed a chair, set it down next to her and sat.

Laura laughed, not her usual loud belly laugh, but more of a sympathetic laugh. “Her deal is, as the boys would put it, ‘girl code’ and not my place to say. She has trust issues, that's already more than I should say. But how do you keep her from bolting? That's easy. Ish. You need to hold her accountable and call her on her nonsense. Just, tactfully. If you’re too aggressive she’ll keep running. Be persistent, let her see that you’re not going to get bored and wander off. And don’t lie to her. Not that you’re the type to lie. This is one case where your brutal honesty will work.”

I blinked a few times before trying to respond. “I’m sure that made sense to you, or in girl code. But in man’s world you just contradicted yourself several times.”

“So you do get it!” This time she punctuated it with her belly laugh. The walls were echoing it back to us. It was almost a super power.

“Thanks. That was almost helpful.” I stood up and found my way to an empty desk where I could think to myself. Not lying would be easy enough, what would be the point. But how the hell do you be persistent without being too aggressive? How do you pursue a woman at all without being aggressive? It didn’t make any sense at all.

I decided I’d have to get to the bottom of her trust issues. That was the only real bit of useful information that Laura had given me.

CHAPTER 18

Jen

Two days later we were gathered in the Apache office again. Our MEDEVAC helicopter was down for routine maintenance. Rather than send a replacement helicopter, a temporary replacement crew had been sent from Bagram with their own helicopter. The repairs were only supposed to take a day, so it turned out to be easier to have another crew cover for us while our bird was fixed. It gave me the night off.

It had been two days since I had seen Mark. Two days had been enough time for me to cool down and completely convince myself of my plan to stay friendly, but aloof to anything personal with Mark. Or so I thought. Mark had just come back from the gym. There wasn’t much to do in our downtime, so the men worked out—a lot.

And you missed those gorgeous arms lifting again.

I used the gym anytime the Apache crews weren’t in there. I couldn’t afford to watch the object of my desires sweating as he threw around heavy weights. My will power wasn’t that strong.

He was still in his gym clothes, again, a small consolation prize. As nice as the uniform looked on him, his workout uniform gave me a good look at all that tanned muscle. His shirt was hugging his chest so tightly that I could make out his pecs. If I couldn’t see him topless, this made a nice second.

The night crew was out already—they were working out west— supporting Laura’s husband and his team in another operation. It was nice having the office less crowded, I almost got to have Mark to myself. That gave me a dark thrill even though I was supposed to be detaching myself from him. Didn’t mean I couldn’t pine from afar, right?

Jim was telling stories about his son, James Junior. He was so proud of his son, so excited to be on deployment with him. It was just so…sweet. I wished I could have the same relationship with my mother. I’d long ago given up on that.

Junior had left for Pamir yesterday. Jim was scheduled to go in the next few days along with the rest of their units. He was the center of attention, allowing me to sneak peeks over at Sheppard. Maybe this would be enough to get me through this deployment. Being close-by, but not too near. I couldn’t risk getting within arm’s reach. He’d reel me in and I’d likely let him.

Jim was mid-story when one of the radio operators from the Operations Center burst into the room. The door slammed into the wall, causing everyone to tense. Most of the people here were used to being shot at, so loud noises tended to put them into predator mode. It was fascinating to watch. A mask dropped down over Mark’s face as he stood. Muscles flexed and bunched as he started toward the kid standing in the doorway. The kid swallowed hard, panic written all over his face. My stomach dropped down into my boots as he uttered three words. Those words would live in all our nightmares for a while.

“Pamir’s under attack.”

Everything went slow and silent. I turned to Jim, his face was a blank mask, but his eyes… He was terrified. I looked back to Mark, or where Mark had been. He was gone. So were Brady, Artie, and Laura. How had they disappeared so quickly? Mark had been by the door, near the kid, but everyone else had been sitting. I looked around at the worried and frustrated faces. None of us could help from here.

My hands started to shake, my heart was beating furiously in my chest. Why was I so scared right now? I didn’t know Jim or his son, not really, but that didn’t matter. They were all my brothers. I tried to pull myself together. Some of my training kicked in. My legs decided that standing was a good idea, and they brought me into the Ops Center. Jim had made his way too, and before I knew it I was standing next to him.

There was already a MEDEVAC team on standby. They were talking on a different channel than the main frequency. Getting into my helicopter and getting my ass over there was an urge that was hard to ignore, but ultimately I needed to. I’d just be in the way. My bird wasn’t made for gunfights. There wasn’t much I could do unless they needed the injured evacuated, and they already had someone for that. Helplessness settled on my shoulders, but I forced myself to stand and wait.

On the big screen was the video from a drone circling over Pamir. It kept panning its camera around from, one corner of the compound to the next, as insurgents gathered in a group and kept trying to maneuver to a weak point in the base’s defenses. The drone was making calls over the radio, probably to the men on the ground. It all faded to a murmur in the background.

Jim was an absolute model of calmness. In a time when I felt like I was spinning out of control he was cool and detached. He wasn’t shaking, or pacing. He stood perfectly still and stared at the screen. His face however, was pale. He watched without comment.

Someone asked, “Where’s Junior?” To my surprise, the words had come from my mouth.

He pointed to a cluster of fuel trucks. “He’ll be there. The mechanics set up next to the fuelers. The men are manning the wall on the east side. That’s where he is.” His voice didn’t waver or crack, but I could see the terror still there in his eyes.

I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. I didn’t say anything. There was nothing I could tell him right now. Nothing but knowing his son was safe would comfort him and there wasn’t anything else for me to do. The hand of a friend was the only thing I could offer. His shoulders relaxed slightly under my palm.

“Maybe we should go,” Sarah suggested. I hadn’t realized that she had followed us in. We watched the insurgents begin firing as they made their move. She gave a slight tug of his arm. He didn’t budge. I couldn’t blame him. Not knowing what was happening was probably worse than watching it. Nothing was going to make this father leave the one place he could watch over his son. She stopped tugging and went back to silently watching.

“I promised his mother that I wouldn’t let him out of my sight.” With that he confirmed what I already knew. Nothing was going to take him away from that screen.

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