Blue Skies (22 page)

Jett slipped the ring onto her finger and then took her hand and placed it on his own necklace to reveal his own wedding band. “Looks like great minds think alike.” He chuckled and then kissed her.

That was all it took for him to become lost in the touch, taste, and feel of her. His clothes came off in a flash before he reluctantly turned off the flashlight. It was the first time their union was sweet and tender. Neither one tried to become the dominant or the submissive. They moved as one. One body. One soul.

Osan Air Base South Korea, July 6, 2006 2300 hours

It had been more than forty-eight hours since Vice Commander Colonel Jeff Mickelson slept. Judging by the constant stream of Generals and Colonels in and out of his office, sleep was going to remain an elusive memory for a while. Not only that, but the phone calls and faxes requesting situational reports kept his entire staff busy as well.

The international community remained firm on down playing the seriousness of North Korea missile launches—to the point that no mention of the missing American fighter pilots and jets reached any of the media outlets.

To do so-would play directly in to Kim Jong-il plans.

Five years into the war against terrorism with Iraq and Afghanistan, the last the United States wanted or needed was ignite a new war against a country with the third largest military in the world—especially when the second largest (China) were their allies.

Mickelson glanced up and then quickly jump to his feet to salute the Brigadier General Spencer Dugan. “No, sir. We’re still searching, sir.”

Dugan ignored the salute but waved Mickelson back to his seat. “We went from one missing plane to five in two days. We have to know something. The last thing we need is for these incidents to become a crisis.”

Mickelson was at a loss as to what to tell the General. Surely the man didn’t think he was actually holding out information. “We’re doing everything we can to find out who’s responsible for launching an attack on our planes.”

“Sir, with all due respect, we know
who
is behind the attacks. Nothing happens in North Korea without the Kim Jong-il say so. The question is whether the surface to air missiles was launched from behind the DMZ or within it.”

“You think Kim Jong-il would make such a bold move as to infiltrate the DMZ?”

“He’s bold enough to leave the six-party negotiations over their nuclear program and then launch seven missiles toward Japan as a
test.
So yes. I think he would be bold enough to cross the DMZ. Of course now, with our pilots forced to try and out run heat-seeking missiles they also crossed the DMZ. So we can’t point the finger at them about the missing planes without them pointing and undoubtedly accusing us of crossing the DMZ first.”

“Just the ammunition Kim Jong-il needs to say that the U.S. was provoking an attack.” Dugan nodded and finally took a seat in one of the empty chairs. “Not a bad plan.”

“From a mad man—no.” Mickelson braided his hands. “As it stands now, our hands are tied. We don’t know if our pilots are alive or dead. We can’t risk another combat and rescue until we have pinpointed their
exact
location.”

Chapter 27

Sydney sighed dreamily as satisfaction hummed through her body. In the distance, the unmistakable soundtrack of birds singing and crickets chirping brought a smile to her lips.

“It’s always a good sign when a woman wakes up with a smile on her face.”

At the sound of her husband’s voice, Sydney fluttered open her eyes and broadened her smile. “I see you’re wearing one as well.”

Jett leaned forward and brushed a kiss against her lips. “That’s because I made love to an angel last night.”

“Anyone I know?” Her gaze drifted down and she frowned. “Unfair. What are you doing already dressed? How long have you been up?”

He kissed her again. “A couple of hours. I cased the area and found a small stream not too far from here. I like to get you over there so we can clean your leg up a little better. I also fund some good strong branches that I can fashion a pretty good stint.”

Sydney covered her immediate disappointment of Jett shifting to soldier mode. She was being ridiculous. They’d been shot down behind enemy lines and their primary mission was to survive, evade, resist, and escape-not to mend a dysfunctional marriage, make love in the rain, and whisper sweet nothings the morning after.

What was wrong with her?

Jett laughed as if he’d heard her thoughts and leaned forward for another kiss. “If it makes you feel better, I also ogled your naked body before I left this morning.”

Unmoved until she met his gold stare, the woman in her won out over the soldier. “For how long?”

“For a
long
time.” He laughed again and stole a second kiss.

Sydney slid her hands around his neck and deepened the kiss before she responded. “Then yes, I feel much better.”

When the morning smooching was over, Jett took extraordinary care in helping Sydney get dress and repack their tarp and camouflage nets. His guilt about their lovemaking returned tenfold when Sydney’s ability to walk on her bad leg became impossible. Not only that, but her pride also returned in full force and, she refused to accept help.

After the blazing sun zapped the rest of her energy and sweat poured like a waterfall down her body, she hitched onto her husband’s back and allowed him to carry her the rest of the way.

At the surprisingly crystal clear stream, she felt and was certain she looked like a frightened deer. They were taking a high-risk lingering to wash and clean up, simply because the area was so open. Both kept darting their eyes around in fear of being discovered.

Even with the two of them washing and cleaning her up, it took a considerable amount of time and when it came to her leg neither of them said what the other was thinking: infection had settled into her leg. The stint Jett design, did aid in her walking, but the truth of the matter was she was beginning to lose feeling in the limb and her fever had returned.

“Try the radio again,” Sydney said unable to fathom how much longer she could survive out in the wilderness.

Jett nodded, but waited until after he maneuvered her back into the thicket of trees and was satisfied with the hiding spot. He returned to the open stream and pulled out of his radio. With little confidence Osan would able to pick up the signal, he switched on the channel, made a silent prayer and called for help.

Mickelson must have dozed off while he waited to be connected on a conference call to the President of the United States because when a loud rap sounded on his door, he nearly jumped out of his skin and his chair. His secretary didn’t wait for him to bark his usual, ‘Enter,’ but rushed inside like the devil himself nipped at his heels.

Annoyed, Mickelson shook his head at the young man. “Whatever it is, it’s going have to wait. I’m on an important phone call.”

Lt. Shaffer didn’t bat an eye at the reprimand. “I think you’re going to want to here this, sir.”

The young lieutenant successfully won his attention and since the President had yet to come onto the line, Mickelson leaned back in his chair and met the soldier’s eyes. “What is it?”

Mickelson immediate thought the captain maybe coerced through his transmission to the base and wanted to warn of a potential trap. “What do you mean ‘strange’?”

An excited Jett returned to Sydney’s side and relayed the good news. Her reaction, however, was rather subdued with her flashing him a weak smile. “How long do you think it will take for them to get here?”

Jett’s good mood soured at the sheen of sweat that blanketed her face. He placed his hand against her forehead and his heart nearly stopped. “You’re burning up.”

“No. It’s nothing,” she lied and slid her thick tongue across her cracked lips. “It’s just a slight fever.” She attempted another smile but it resembled a grimace. “How long?”

“Not long, baby.” He brushed the hair back from her forehead. “The transmission was picked up on the Guard Channel. They know our exact location. You can hold on a little while longer, can’t you babe?”

She nodded. “Piece of cake.”

Jett’s eyes swelled with tears. The needling thought of losing her again after so much wasted time felt like a hammer slamming against his glass heart. Could life actually be this cruel?

A tear trickled down his face when the answer slammed into him.
Yes.
Life had always dealt him a bad hand. Why would now be any different?

Sydney slumped back awkwardly.

“Syd!” Jett caught her before her head slammed against a nearby tree. His heart lodged in his throat as he repositioned and laid her flat on her back. “Sydney, baby. Wake up. Sydney.” As gently as he could he patted her cheeks, trying to wake her. When she didn’t respond, he checked the dilation of her eyes and could barely contain his panic when all he saw were the white of her eyes.

“No. Oh, God. No.” He slapped her face again. “Wake up, Sydney. That’s an order!” A sob escaped his closed throat as he scrambled to look around. He needed to get her cool or break her fever. Jett couldn’t remember which.

His hands moved without much thought as he stripped off her survival vest, kit, and G-suit off. Doing so, he also removed the stint he’d made for her leg. From her kit, he removed a knife and made strips of cloths from the suit. Next, he gathered them up and raced back to the stream and soaked them in the water.

Hurry. Hurry.

Yet, it seemed he couldn’t move fast enough. Like everything was playing in slow motion.
You can’t lose her now. Help is on the way.

He stood from the stream with the bundle of wet material; but when he glanced up, time stopped as his gaze crashed into a young Korean soldier across the stream.

One HH-60G Pave Hawk and two A-10 Thunderbolts IIs launched within minutes of Capt. Colton’s end transmission to Osan Air Base. The HH-60G is monstrous helicopter who primary wartime mission is combat, search and rescue, infiltration, and exfiltration. Recoveries are made through landing or rope repelling. The five-man crew consider of a pilot, co-pilot, flight engineer and two parachute jumpers. The A-10 Thunderbolts commonly called the Warthog or the hog is a single seat twin-engine attack aircraft. The jet aircraft was design to provide close air support by attacking tanks, armored vehicles and other ground targets.

Now the team was airborne and covertly crossing the DMZ, the crew staved off concerns on whether they could re-establish communication with the ground survivors. They stayed on the coordinates of Capt. Colton’s last transmission. When they arrived to the evacuation site Korean soldiers were to greet them.

The sound of heavy gunfire penetrated the hazy fog clouding Sydney’s mind. Despite the steady pop of automatic weapons, the danger she was in didn’t quite register. She could only think about how hot it was and how nice it would be to have something cool to drink.

After what seem like a lifelong struggle, she managed to flutter open her eyes only to be confused once again by the Amazon-like trees surrounding her. Like her last black out, her memory was slow to kick into gear. When everything finally clicked into place, she forced herself into action.