The Fly Boys (38 page)

“About what?”

“About you and your father.”

Steve shrugged noncommittally.

“I’ll take that as an affirmative response,” Linda said. “I think that your father never considered the fact that his speech
advancing his company’s airplane would rile you.”

“Oh, sure!” Steve exclaimed. “It’s okay for
him
to be thoughtless, but not me, is that it?”

“Let me finish,” Linda said. “No, it’s not okay for him to forget your feelings, but two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“I thought you journalists were taught to avoid clichés?” he asked coolly, but she seemed to ignore, or excuse, his sarcasm.

“Sometimes clichés are true.” She ground her cigarette out against the sole of her shoe. Steve was amused to see her then
field-shred the butt. “You know how badly you felt when you saw your father’s published comments?” she asked.

“So?”

“So think how he’s going to feel when
he
sees
yours
.”

Steve nodded. “He’s going to feel pretty bad, I guess.”

“I guess….” Linda agreed quietly.

Steve laughed ruefully. “You know what the funny part of all this is? I’ve got nothing against the BroadSword. It’s a damned
fine airplane.”

“Did you ever tell your father that?” she asked. “Have you ever complimented him on any of his achievements?”

“Not since I was a kid,” he admitted. “It’s so hard, Linda,” he elaborated, shaking his head. “I’m always in the hole with
him. Always a day late and a dollar short.
Always!
As far as he’s concerned, I’m always making the wrong decisions, and that’s because they’re
my
decisions, not his.” He dropped what remained of his cigarette to the clay and angrily ground it out beneath his shoe.

Linda put her arms around him and hugged him close. “I think that you’re a very brave man willing to fight any war on behalf
of your country, but there’s one war you’re fighting on behalf of yourself, and it’s a war you’ve got to end.”

“You mean the war with my father.” He nodded and then kissed her on the forehead. “Thanks.”

“For what?“she demanded gruffly.

“For making me feel better.”

“I wish you could make me feel better,” she whispered. “Do you know how horny I am for you?”

“I got horny as soon as I saw you,” Steve chuckled. “There I was, sitting up on that stage with all those lights on me. I
wondered how the hell I was ever going to get out of there without everyone seeing my boner. I’m hard as a rock right now.”

She laughed.

“Maybe that’s why I couldn’t sleep,” he continued. “It wasn’t the day’s ordeal, or my father at all—it was you!”

“You’re a slow thinker, but you
do
draw the right conclusions eventually.”

Steve gently tilted up her chin and kissed her. “It’s been a long time….”

“Umm…. The last time was that weekend in San Francisco, right before you headed off to Japan.”

“’Like I said, a long time to go without you.” Steve kissed her again.

“Are you telling me you haven’t been with those very pretty, very
willing
Japanese girls?” she demanded skeptically.

“I didn’t say that at all,” Steve said between kisses. “What I said was, it’s been so very long… since I was with
you
.”

“Good answer,” Linda murmured, and then she sighed. “Too bad we can’t do anything about it….”

“We can’t?” Steve asked, frowning.

“Well, I mean, your bunk is in the pilots’ barracks, and I’m quartered with the other women correspondents. Where could we
go that’s private?”

Steve smiled.

The door to Major Kell’s office was locked.

“Now what?” Linda whispered, casting anxious glances over her shoulder down the dimly lit corridor.

“Relax,” Steve coaxed, trying the door knob a final time.

“I can’t,” she complained. “I keep thinking that I hear somebody coming.”

“No way,” Steve promised. “It’s just your nerves.” He sauntered over to the clerk’s desk and tried the middle drawer, which
slid open. In it was a ring of keys. “Never knew a clerk who didn’t have the keys to his superior’s office,” he said triumphantly.
Out of curiosity he tried some of the other drawers. In the bottom left-hand one he found a two-cell flashlight. “This will
come in handy. We don’t want to draw attention by switching on lights.”

Linda nodded. “But then shouldn’t we also be keeping our voices down?” she asked, concerned.

“What for?” Steve asked as he began to try keys in Kell’s door. “There’s nothing at this end of the building but the briefing
room and this office.”

“But aren’t there guards?” she persisted.

“Outside, patrolling the perimeter. Trust me. Besides us, the only other person in this building is the TCG guy on duty in
the radio room, and that’s at the opposite end of the building, and to top it off, he’s probably wearing a headset.”

The third key on the ring clicked in the lock. Steve tried the knob and the door swung open. “Step into my parlor, said the
spider to the fly.”

Linda hurried in. Steve followed her, shutting and locking the door behind him. He checked to see that the shades were drawn,
and then switched on the flashlight. It had a red plastic rim around the lens. By standing it upright, facedown on Kell’s
desk, the flashlight cast a diffused red glow that was enough to dimly illuminate the office.

“Umm, romantic,” Linda smiled, unzipping her parka. “Is this wall-to-wall carpeting?”

Steve nodded. “Nice, huh? I figured we could spread out your parka on the carpet, and then—”

“Steve,” Linda interrupted, shivering. “It’s cold in here.”

“Not much we can do about that, I’m afraid. If I lit the coal stove the smoke would attract attention.” He went to the closet
and opened it. “No blankets, unfortunately.” He pointed to the liquor cabinet. “How about a drink to warm you up?”

“I wouldn’t say no.”

Steve went to the cabinet. “He’s got some Chivas in here.”

“That’d be wonderful.”

Steve tried the door. “Locked,” he frowned.

“Have you got the key to it?”

Steve shook his head. “Not likely the clerk would have need of a key to the major’s liquor cabinet.”

“Oh, well….” Linda sighed, sounding disappointed.

“Hey, no problem,” Steve told her, going over to Kell’s desk, where he picked up a stilettolike letter opener from the blotter.
He took the letter opener over to the liquor cabinet, carefully inserted its point into the cabinet’s lock, and began to jiggle
it around. Nothing happened, so he jiggled it a little harder. There was a loud clicking noise. “Ah-hah!” Steve announced.

“You picked the lock?”

“I broke the lock.”

“Kell is going to be furious,” Linda worried.

“Probably, but what’s he going to do about it?” Steve shrugged, opening the cabinet and taking out the bottle of Chivas and
two glasses. “I played along with him this afternoon at the press conference. Thanks to me he came off a hero. He told me
he expects a commendation. He’s not going to want to screw that up.”

“If you say so….” Linda replied, sounding unconvinced.

“I know so.” Steve poured two generous drinks and handed one to her. “To us—” he toasted as they clinked glasses.

“Umm, wonderful stuff,” Linda said as she sipped the scotch. “But I’m still cold. If we spread my parka out on the carpet,
what will we use to cover us once we’re undressed?”

Steve looked around the room. His eyes fell on the wall-sized FEAF tapestry. “You shall be covered in silk,” he told Linda,
and then went over to the wall hanging and gave it an experimental yank. It was attached by only a couple of tacks, and came
down easily.

“You are clever!” Linda applauded as Steve bundled up the woven silk and carried it over. She took another swallow of her
drink, and then set aside the glass. “And cleverness should be rewarded,” she whispered.

She shrugged off her parka and spread it out on the carpet with its quilted lining facing up. Now she kept her eyes on him
as she began to unbutton her shirt, letting it drop to the floor. She undid the brass slide of her canvas belt, unzipped her
trousers, and stepped out of them.

Steve laughed giddily. What a kick to see her shed her tomboy’s fatigues to reveal that she was wearing a lacy chemise.

“These military things are so drab and unflattering,” she smiled. “I felt the need to wear something feminine underneath.
Do you like?”

“I like,” Steve said as she pirouetted for him, looking like an angel in her silky lace, and more than a little devilish in
the red light.

Steve finished his drink and quickly shed his own clothes. As he went to her, she put one arm around his neck and with the
other hand reached down to gently encircle his erection. Steve sighed as he pressed his face into her dark, tousled hair.
Her hand was still on him as she laughingly sank to the floor, gently tugging him down. He disengaged himself in order to
grab the wall hanging and spread it out over them so that the FEAF insignia made a silken canopy under which they burrowed.

“Make love to me right now,” she whispered urgently as he glided his hands over her smooth, curvy ass and kissed and sucked
her nipples. She pulled him down on top of her and spread her legs, all the while fondling him until he had to stop her or
else risk coming too soon.

He was just about to enter her when he abruptly stopped, groaning, realizing that he had no condom. “Linda, we’ve got no protection
for you—”

“I don’t care!” she hissed, clawing at him.

“You could get pregnant—”

“Don’t worry! It’s just before my time of the month!”

She grabbed him and pulled. It was either go along or else risk her breaking it off. They rocked and squirmed beneath the
silk, and both climaxed in less than a minute.

Once the initial edge was off, they were able to settle down for a long, leisurely go-around. Forty-five minutes and another
round of Chivas later, they were still under the wall hanging, nicely sheened with sweat and just beginning third-round preliminaries
when the lights in the office abruptly snapped on.

Steve quickly scuttled halfway out from beneath the now damp and wrinkled tapestry to see Major Kell standing in the doorway.
The major was smoking a pipe and wearing a parka over striped pajamas. He had bedroom slippers on his feet and a bundle of
manila folders under his arm.

In dogfighting it was best to take the offensive
. “What are you doing here?” Steve demanded.

“What am I…?” Kell trailed off. “My beautiful wall hanging!” he gasped.

“It’s none the worse for wear,” Steve said, looking at it, and then shrugged. “A little stained maybe…”

“Dammit, Gold! You’d better have a good explanation! You—you—” Kell paused, sniffing and then wrinkling up his nose. “What’s
that awful
smell
?”

Linda stuck her head out from under the silk. Her blue eyes looked dreamy, and her dark hair hung in damp ringlets around
her flushed face. “You were right, Kell, He
is
a major.”

The ringing telephone tore Herman Gold from a deep sleep. He reached out in the darkness of the bedroom to fumble for the
receiver in its cradle, found it, and brought it to his ear.

“Yeah?” he mumbled, not yet really awake. “Hello?”

“Herman, it’s me.”

“Teddy?” Gold yarned. “God, what time is it?”

“It’s a little after four
A.M.
”

“What the hell—?” Gold began.

Beside him, Erica stirred in her sleep. “What is it?” she murmured. “Has something happened?” She switched on the lamp on
her side of the bed.

Gold, squinting against the light, waved her quiet. “Teddy, where are you?”

“I’m in the design lab.”

“Has he worked all night again?” Erica demanded.

Gold shrugged irritably. “Teddy,” he began, “I thought that we’d agreed that you were going to take things a little bit easier?”
he asked carefully.

“These problems we’ve got with the GC-909 aren’t going to solve themselves.”

That’s the truth
, Gold thought. The AT-909 AreoTanker project for the Air Force was proceeding along according to schedule, but the design
team working on the commercial version of the jet transport, the GC-909, had hit some snags. The most serious problem was
the commercial jetliner’s projected runway requirements. Fully loaded, in warm weather, the GC-909 was going to need too much
runway to operate from most of the nation’s airports.

I told you that I plan to retire once the GC-909 is operational,” Teddy said. “I’ll have plenty of time to rest then.”

Gold scowled as he heard the double click of Teddy’s cigarette lighter.

“Anyway, Herman, I didn’t wake you up to chat about the 909,” Teddy said, noisily exhaling smoke. “I’ve been listening to
the radio while I was working. They’ve just broadcast a news bulletin. Another SB has gone down.”

“Oh, Christ,” Gold sighed. He glanced at Erica. “A fourth Stoat-Black Starstreak has crashed,” Gold told her.

“She went down over the Mediterranean, off the coast of Italy,” Teddy continued. “The radio says there was a full crew aboard,
and capacity passengers.”

“They say what they think happened? I mean, can they pin it on a storm or something?”

“Nope. Not yet, anyway. She went down in daylight. There were witnesses on the ground who claim the weather was perfect. They
reported that one minute the plane was soaring and the next she just broke up. She was carrying a full crew of six and twenty-five
passengers. No survivors, of course.”

“It sounds just like the last one,” Gold muttered. “That’s four crashes in a little over a year. They’ve got to ground them
all now.”

“Already have, according to the radio,” Teddy said. “Anyway, I’m sorry about waking you up, but I thought you’d want to know.”

“I appreciate the call,” Gold said. “Now I wish you’d go home and get some rest,” he added.