Читать книгу Coming Up for Air - Karen Foley, Karen Foley - Страница 9

Two months later—Nuristan Province, Afghanistan

JENNA BROUGHT THE BLACK Hawk in low and fast, her eyes sweeping the narrow mountain pass for any signs of insurgency. Behind her, in the open door of the cabin, Specialist Leeann Baker squeezed off several magazines as a warning to deter any possible ambush. Once through the pass, Jenna would have a visual on Forward Operating Base Kalagush, where her current passengers would disembark and she would collect another group bound for Kabul Air Base.

The stark valley, surrounded on all sides by the naked, forbidding peaks of the Hindu Kush mountains, always gave Jenna the shivers. No matter how many times she flew this particular route, she couldn’t shake the sense that she’d stumbled into an episode of The Land That Time Forgot. If a prehistoric pterodactyl suddenly took wing from the nearby crags, she wouldn’t have been at all surprised.

Fortunately, the only predatory birds in the nearby airspace were the second Black Hawk that flew hard on her right flank and the fully manned Apache attack helicopter that provided cover from above. Even with the armed escorts, she wouldn’t breathe easy until they were on the ground at Kalagush. They’d stay just long enough to refuel and reload passengers, before they made the return trip to Kabul Air Base, arriving before darkness fell.

In the seat beside her, so close that their elbows nearly touched, Warrant Officer Laura Costanza radioed their position to the control tower at the remote base. Jenna listened carefully to the instructions provided by the tower and checked the coordinates on the multifunctional display. She’d been flying for nearly five hours, and now she feathered the cyclic stick between her knees while simultaneously working the collective to control her angle of descent.

The mountain pass opened up, and spread out on the desolate wasteland beneath her was the sprawling complex of Forward Operating Base Kalagush, a small patch of Western civilization smack in the middle of the unforgiving terrain of northern Afghanistan. Several minutes later, Jenna brought the helicopter to a smooth landing on the helipad and shut the rotors down.

“Welcome to Kalagush,” she shouted to the soldiers as they gathered their gear together in the cabin. “Enjoy your stay and thank you for flying with the U.S. Army. We know you have no other options, but we still appreciate your business.”

As always, her comments drew laughs and ribald comments from the men as they jumped down from the helicopter and made their way across the tarmac to their new duty station.

“And they say women can’t park!” one of the soldiers said, grinning at her as he climbed out. “Nice flying, ma’am!”

“How long do we have?” she asked Laura, as she shut everything down and completed her flight paperwork.

Laura flipped open a flight book and consulted her watch. “Twenty minutes to unload, refuel, reload and lift off.”

Switching off her headset, Jenna removed her helmet and climbed down from the cockpit and stretched her tight muscles, watching as her flight crew went through the routine of checking the aircraft and preparing it for the return trip. The crew chief, Sergeant First Class Samantha Helwig, began coordinating with the ground personnel to unload the supplies and mailbags that she carried in her cargo bay, while a fuel truck lumbered toward them. Nearby, the other two helicopters were undergoing similar activity.

A soldier jogged toward her across the tarmac, a clipboard beneath his arm. Jenna returned his smart salute.

“Hey, Corporal Garrett.” She smiled, recognizing the man from her previous visits. “Who do we have the privilege of transporting today?”

The soldier consulted his clipboard. “A five-man unit for you, and two VIPs for Captain McLaughlin.”

“Right,” she replied, and glanced in the direction of the other Black Hawk, where she could see the pilot inspecting his aircraft. She wouldn’t speculate on the reasons why McLaughlin always got the VIPs. Her job was to transport personnel. End of story. Her helicopter was large enough to accommodate her four-person crew and seven fully equipped troops, so the five-man team put her almost at full capacity.

Turning away, she began a visual inspection of her own helicopter, looking for any structural damage or weaknesses in the aircraft. She’d been flying with Warrant Officer Costanza for so long now that she no longer thought about the fact that they were the only all-female crew in her battalion. Even her door gunner and her crew chief were women. They all had hundreds of flying hours under their belts, and each took their job seriously. Given a choice, Jenna knew she would choose these women to crew her aircraft over any of the guys in her battalion.

“Just another day at the office,” Laura said brightly, climbing onto the fuselage to inspect the rotor shaft. She slanted Jenna a small smile, reading the direction of her thoughts. “For what it’s worth, I’m sure the VIPs have no clue about who’s piloting which helicopter. It’s not personal.”

Jenna shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here to do a job, not suck up to some general who happens to be riding in my jump seat.” She cast another dark look across the tarmac to where Captain Kevin “Mongo” McLaughlin was checking out his tail rotor. “But I know he’s going to gloat over this later, and that just bugs me.”

Laura was only half listening. Her attention was fixated on the other side of the tarmac, where a group of five soldiers were making their way toward the helicopter. Even as Jenna bent to look through the open cabin doors for a better view, Laura scrambled swiftly down.

“Forget Mongo and his gloating,” she hissed, pretending to fiddle with the sliding door of the cabin while her dark gaze remained riveted on the men. “Check these guys out!”

Jenna frowned. Heat shimmered over the asphalt, distorting their figures as they strode closer, and for a moment she was reminded of the iconic Hollywood scene from the blockbuster movie Armageddon, when five heroic astronauts made their way in slow motion across the flight line on a mission to save the world. Only, instead of orange space suits, these guys wore desert camouflage and carried army-issued duffel bags. But beneath the rim of their helmets, their sunburned faces sported several weeks’ worth of beard, and each wore the same don’t-fuck-with-me expression.

“Another special ops team,” mused Jenna. In the two months of her deployment, she and Laura had transported dozens of special ops commandos from one location to another. While Jenna knew the likelihood of running into Chase Rawlins was slim, her heart did a small flip of anticipation each time one of them climbed aboard her helicopter. “Looks like they’ve been outside the wire for a while.”

“Oh, yeah,” murmured Laura in an appreciative tone. “Looks like they could use some serious R and R, and I know just the person to give it to them. Come to Mama, boys.”

Jenna laughed softly, no longer shocked by anything that Laura said. She knew the other woman was mostly talk and almost no action.

As the men drew closer, conversing with each other in low tones, Jenna’s eyes narrowed. There was something about the guy on the far right. He was tall and lean, and walked with an easy, loose-limbed grace that reminded her of—

“Holy crap!”

Laura’s gaze flashed between her and the group of men, and back again. “What? You know one of them?”

Quickly, before the group got any closer, Jenna spun out of sight and pressed her back against the side of the helicopter, adrenaline surging hot and hard through her veins.

“Don’t let him see me,” she whispered fiercely.

“Who?” Laura craned her head so that she was looking through the open doors of the cabin, just as the first man climbed up through the opposite door and into the helicopter. She straightened abruptly and snapped out a salute. “Afternoon, sir,” she said in a no-nonsense military tone. “I’m Warrant Officer Costanza, your copilot. As soon as we’re refueled, we’ll depart.”

Jenna heard the low rumble of a reply, and then Laura stepped smartly away from the door and made her way toward the front of the helicopter, dragging Jenna with her. “Is that who I think it is?” she hissed, incredulous. “Is it the guy from Shooters?”

“Yes. No! I don’t know! I can’t be sure.” Jenna’s heart was slamming so hard in her chest that she was sure Laura must hear it. “I didn’t exactly stop to read his name tag! God.”

But when she pressed her fingers against her closed eyes, she could see him clearly and knew that she hadn’t been mistaken. And what were the freaking chances that she would run into Major Chase Rawlins out here, a gazillion miles from Fort Bragg, in the middle of freaking no-man’s land? There was no doubt in her mind that it was him. Even with half his face covered in scruff, his eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, she’d recognize him.

She’d thought of him more often than she’d care to admit—even to herself—during the past two months. The one night she’d spent with him was as fresh in her mind as if it had been only yesterday. What would he do when he saw her? Would he even recognize her? Did he ever think of her?