Authors: Adrianne Byrd
Blue Skies (15 page)
Sydney snapped to a salute. “Yes, sir.”
“Pick someone other than your boyfriend.”
She blinked and worked her jaw, but actual words eluded her.
“Is that a problem, Capt. Garrett?”
“Sir, no, sir.”
“Good. Everyone strap up.”
There was an unmistakable titter of laughter within the ranks while everyone selected their partner. Sydney somehow found the strength to keep her head held high as she stepped out of formation. She didn’t dare glance in Jett’s direction even though she could feel his heavy gaze on her.
She ended up teaming with Lt. Johnson while Jett looked disappointed to partner with Capt. Post. Strange, but Sydney noticed Johnson seemed distant—aloof even. Whenever, he spotted her with Jett, she was sure she read disappointment in his features. Had Niecy been right about him? Had he been interested in her?
The day’s mission was to just log time in the B-2 Spirit, but that didn’t mean the pilots didn’t get their chance to test what a forty-five million dollar plane could do.
As much as Sydney loved the F-16, it took her less than two seconds to find a tender spot for the B-2. The moment she was strapped in, she felt as if she’d been cast into a science fiction movie. The huge intimidating plane was not made of metal but of a composite material that reduced the overall weight of the aircraft.
At liftoff, Sydney couldn’t believe the speed and the power the plane exuded. Rocketing at supersonic speed and maneuvering this way and that felt more like an aphrodisiac than a training mission.
Everyone felt it.
The men were juiced with extra testosterone and Sydney’s legs quivered as bad as when she lay writhing beneath Jett in their silk sheet haven at The Palm.
Now she needed him.
When she was stripping out of G-suit in the locker room, she quickly jotted a note. However, she chose the wrong time to pass it to him when they returned to the classroom.
“Thank you, Captain Garrett,” Maj. Maxwell plucked the folded paper from her hands. “I’m sure this is an interested bit of literature that the rest of the class would enjoy.”
Sydney groaned and shrunk in her chair as another titter of laughter encircled around her. To her great relief, Maj. Maxwell didn’t open the letter and read it aloud as he’d threatened. Instead, he continued his lecture on the B-2 Spirit for another hour.
When class finally ended, Maxwell instructed her and Jett to stay seated.
Once the room had cleared and only three-member party remained, Major Maxwell pulled up a seat. “Does this place look like a high school to you?”
“No, sir,” Sydney and Jett barked back.
“I think it does.” He pulled Sydney’s letters from his pants pocket and carefully unfolded it.
Sydney fought the urge to dive across her desk and snatched the paper from his hands. Instead, she sat there and watched him as he read all the things Sydney wanted to do Jett when she next got him alone.
As long as it took, Sydney was certain he’d read her fantasy a few times. When he was done, he handed the letter over Lt. Colton.
“You sound very talented, Capt. Garrett.”
“Yes, sir,” she responded automatically; but when Maj. Maxwell’s bushy eyebrows lifted with blatant humor, she realized what she’d she said, “Uh, I mean-no, sir.” That wasn’t right either—was it?
Major Maxwell lifted a silencing hand to let her off the hook. “I’m old school,” he admitted. “If you ask me the integrating of the sexes has turned out to be one big headache. I recognized that you two are consenting adults and you are free to do whatever it is you two do behind closed doors; but when you’re on my time, I expected your best in the sky as well as the classroom. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Sydney and Jett atoned.
“Very well.” Maj. Maxwell stood. “Dismissed.”
“We have cool it,” Sydney declared marching toward the housing. Tears of humiliation burned the backs of her eyes.
“C’mon. It’s not that serious.” Jett chuckled behind her. “We just have to play things a little closer to the vest. That’s all.” He snuck a quick pinch of her butt.
Sydney nearly jumped out of her skin. “What the hell is the matter with you?” she backed and whipped her head around to see who was watching. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed, and then quickened her pace toward her destination.
“Aw. Loosen up. Class is over.”
Sydney shook her head. How could she have forgotten how different they were? Jett was a great pilot but his devil may care attitude would likely limit his advancement more than anything. She didn’t just want to be a fighter pilot; she wanted to be
the best
. That’s all she’s ever wanted.
“Syd?”
She stopped and turned to look at him with the full intention to break it off; but the moment she met his beautiful golden gaze, she rather rip out her own tongue than to break things off.
Jett seemed to know his power over her and slid on his goofiest smile. “I promise from now on to be on my best behavior.”
The war between her head and her heart raged. For the first time ever, logic lost the war. “No more sexual advances in class.”
“I promise.” He stepped forward as if he was about to embrace her.
“And no more improper touching in public.”
Jett frowned. “In public—ever?”
Okay, she didn’t like that one either. “Not on the base.”
He thought it over. “Agreed. As long as you don’t pass any more sexually explicit notes in class.”
An image of Maj. Maxwell lobster-red face as he read her letter flashed before her eyes. “That is definitely a deal.”
“Good. It’s a Friday night. How about I meet you at Studio 54 about midnight?”
“I don’t know,” she groaned, desperately wanting to say ‘no’, but dying to say ‘yes’. “What if we’re seen?”
“So? After today the whole squad definitely knows we’re seeing each other. We just agreed to be professional
on base.
Now, what happens in Vegas-”
“I know. I know.”
“So what do you say?”
She hesitated. There was one week left of training and there was no way she could resist him that long.
“Who knows,” Jett said in low whisper. “I might even let you see me naked.”
“Hey,” she reprimanded with a wave of her finger. “You promised.”
“Midnight?”
She drew a deep breath and finally gave in. “Midnight.”
Studio 54 located at the spectacular MGM Grand proved to be just as breathtaking as Rain. The moment Sydney entered the building it was if she’d been transported back in time to the infamous nightclub of the seventies.
“Care to dance?” a male voice inquired from behind.
She turned around to refuse the offer but stopped in her tracks when she realized it was Lt. Johnson.
“Oh, are you talking to me again?”
He shrugged casually. “Sorry about that but I guess my jealousy got the best of me.”
Stunned, she blinked up at him.
“But if you ever change your mind about Colton, I hope you look me up.”
“I thought you were my date this evening?” Jett asked, brushing his body against hers.
Sydney jumped and then turned toward him. “Uh, Lt. Johnson just asked me--”
“It’s alright,” Johnson interrupted. “Maybe another time.” He winked and then disappeared into the crowd.
“I don’t like that guy,” Jett said.
Sydney said nothing. She was too stunned. Instead, she looped her arms around Jett’s neck and tuned out the upbeat dance track booming from the DJ box, instead she and Jett moved as though grooving to a slow jam.
“You’re all mine,” Jett whispered. The moment he’d said words he realized he meant them. So rarely had life given him something to hold onto and now that he held this gem he had no desire to ever let her go.
Something about the way Jett looked at Sydney had her re-evaluating her life plan. Whenever she was in his arms, she envisioned the white-picket fence and two and half children. Such things were alien to her. There was something magical about the night. Them standing in the center of the floor with smoke billowing around.
They danced for hours and then at the bar, Jett talked her into trying her first ever ‘Hurricane’.
“Trust me. You’re going to love it,” he promised.
And she did—at least the first one. On the second drink, her whole world turned blurry. There was more dancing, more laughing. Vaguely, she remembered them moving to the casino floor there was quite a few questionable betting going on. But none of it explained how she woke up Saturday morning in a MGM suite naked...except for the silver band on her left hand.
Chapter 19
Tuesday July 4
th
, 2006 Somewhere in North Korea 1900 hours
Sydney grew concerned about infection in left leg while she prepared for her first night in the strange woods. Having never received so much as static on her radio, it was proving hard to remain hopeful about a combat search and rescue team.
As dire as her situation was, there was nothing for her to do but to sit and wait—and think. But thinking led to remembering and she didn’t want to continue wallowing in the past. What purpose did it serve other than to depress her?
She loved. She lost. She needed to get over it. Of course that was how Sydney felt now. In ten minutes that declaration was subject to change. In a place where the minutes crawled like hours it was hard not to think about the what-ifs.
Now that night descended, she had to get moving. Nighttime was the best time to travel and she needed to get to a place where she could get better reception on her radio. However, when she tried to stand, the pain in her leg returned tenfold and it took everything she had not to cry out.
Slumping back down to the cold earth, Sydney tried to catch her breath. After a long while, when the pain finally dulled a bit, she took another inspection of her red, black, and blue injury. She winced and sucked in a deep breath as she pulled at pieces of what looked like scrap metal from her leg.
When she was through, she was light-headed and the flow of blood coursing down her leg increased. From her survival vest, she withdrew a small medical kit and a tourniquet to help stop the flow of blood. After doctoring her leg, a part of her argued that she shouldn’t try walking again, but another part, a strong part, argued that she couldn’t stay put.
However, after several more tries, Sydney collapsed back to the ground tired and sweaty. Before she could give into self-pity a sound caught her ear.
Don’t move.
Her breath wedged in her throat and her heart pounded so fast she feared that any moment it would explode out of her chest. The unmistakable sounds of heavy footfalls racing in her direction and she hunkered down and retrieved her Beretta.
Was this it? Was this how it was all going to end?
A somber image of her mother answering the door to an U.S. Air Force officer and chaplain surfaced in her mind. Would she handle the news with the same quiet decorum as when her husband was shot down—or would she breakdown at the loss of her only daughter?
Spouses and parents of the military personnel are more than aware of the dangers of such of events, but no one is ever really prepared.
Leaves crunched and branches snapped beneath the runner’s feet as he drew close.
They are getting close.
If it were soldiers, she had no choice but to believe they would be hostile as well as unpredictable. The night grew darker and she had to strain to make anything out; but then at last, a short figure burst into view.
Sydney’s heart stopped at the sight of a Korean solider bearing down on her hiding spot with his weapon drawn.
The North American Aerospace Defense Command who monitors the skies for threats to North American Security remained on heightened alert while everyone from the President of the United States to U.N. Security Council tried to guess whether the international community was on the brink of a World War.
North Korean Foreign Ministry Official had confirmed test firing one long-range missile and five-short range rockets. All six failed. There were no reports about the surface to air missiles launched at two American F-16s. That tidbit was suspiciously missing in their reports.
Jett along with the rest of the Rescue Combat Air Patrol returned to base after hours of patrol of the DMZ. Despite the seriousness of North Korea’s provocation, the U.N. Security Council emergency session urged for more dialogue with the communist country instead countering action with action. In short, permission to cross the DMZ was denied—especially without a signal from the missing pilot.
Jett knew the five steps in the recovery system: report, locate, support, recover, and return. The military couldn’t rescue someone without knowing the individual’s
exact
location.
What if she is dead?
The question stabbed his heart and he fought like hell to keep the tears from burning his eyes. Life kept handing him one bad deal after another. He should have stopped her from walking out of his life. After a lifetime of begging his father to love him, he couldn’t bring himself to do it all again.