“You look nervous, Kelly. Are you nervous?” she asked.
Kelly nodded and bit her bottom lip.
“Well, here’s the problem. The general thinks I coddle my students, because I don’t yell and threaten you all day. He doesn’t believe you can learn flying with my style of teaching. In fact, he thinks I’m a piss-poor instructor.”
The five insisted it wasn’t true.
“Well, I appreciate your support, but the facts say different. I’ve watched five good flyers fall apart during this test because they lost focus. If one more of you fails, I’m done for. I’ll spend the next month in the brig for failing to obey his order to give him ten Class Five fliers, and the rest of my life as a private.”
Alisha looked each of them in the eyes. “You can all fly this test. I know that. I’ve trained you. If you hadn’t been ready, I wouldn’t have put you here. Focus on your flying. Put everything else aside. Forget about what I want. Forget about the test. Just fly the course as perfectly as you can. Don’t let up for even a second. Fly this ten minutes as if it’s your whole life.”
She studied their eyes. Instead of fear now, she saw determination. She hoped it was enough. “Kelly you’re up.” She slapped the young girl on her back.
As Alisha walked back to her spot beneath the general’s raised observation deck, she could feel his angry glare radiating down upon her. She felt sick. She had lied to her squad. They weren’t there because she believed they could fly the test. They were there because General Powell had insisted on ten new fliers.
She had selected the five who had almost passed their first attempt yesterday and added ten more fliers to give herself a buffer. Turned out she needed her buffer, given the five best of this group had already failed. Those remaining were the weakest in the squad, and if they didn’t all pass, not only would the general toss her into the brig, but punish Jack as well.
Colonel Dryer approached her. “Another piss-poor performance, Private?”
“Sir, no, sir,” Alisha replied snapping to attention. “Private Kelly is determined to pass, sir.”
“As the five before her?” Colonel Dryer snorted. “Well, don’t worry. A month in the brig will eventually come to an end, although I hear for the ladies it can seem especially long.”
Alisha knew he was alluding to rape. For some reason, all the cadets were whispering about the problem this last week. Every conversation seemed to turn to past female cadets sent to the brig. The stories had ground soldiers committing the horrible acts, but somehow knowing it wouldn’t be another Ryder who brutally raped her wasn’t much of a consolation to Alisha.
She promised herself if she ever regained her rank as colonel, she would investigate whether these were true stories or just warriors’ tales.
Since Colonel Dryer wished to torment her with these rape stories, she made certain she revealed no emotion, less she received more demerits for her attitude. She had already gotten a thousand demerits this week for knocking his hand off her breast. Of course, his write-up had been quite different. She had failed to rise for an early morning inspection. When he reached down and shook her shoulder roughly to awaken her, she’d struck out at him and told him to let her sleep.
She now knew the helplessness of a private in the army. She had no forum or opportunity to provide important facts that would shed a different light on the event. First, the “inspection” had occurred at two in the morning. Second, the colonel had neither turned on the lights nor announced an inspection. Nor were any other member of the squad awake. The first she had known of the ‘inspection’ was when she awoke to the touch of someone’s hand on her breast.
She had assumed it was a stupid cadet. Given her sullied reputation, several had “gone for the gold” in the last few weeks. She knocked the annoying hand away and sat up to give the cadet one hell of a scolding. Instead, she received the scolding and demerits. Added to the demerits she received for lap dancing, and the demerits for inappropriate facial expressions, it no longer mattered if the soldiers took back their demerits. She had plenty to keep her a private forever.
She watched Kelly enter the pop and hop. Her flying had been good so far, but so had the last five. It was here, at the very end, they lost focus and slipped on their precision. “Focus, Kelly! Focus!” she whispered.
“Did I give you permission to talk?” Colonel Dryer barked.
“Sir, no, sir.” She mentally cursed herself for the slip. In watching Kelly, she had forgotten his presence.
“A hundred demerits, Kane,” he announced. “Keep this up and you’ll be the oldest private in the Corps’ history.”
“Dryer!” General Powell snapped. “A moment, please.”
Alisha sighed. If only the general had called the toad off five minutes before. Alisha refocused on Kelly, willing her through the lasts swing. The cadet past the left-hand target without attempting it, hit the remaining targets, and nailed the stop. A cheer went up from the four remaining students.
“Private Kane,” the general barked. “Why is it, except for Logan, not one of your students has attempted to shoot target thirteen?”
“Its position makes it almost impossible to hit, sir. I advise them not to try.”
“It’s clearly not impossible to hit. If I recall, Logan shot a bulls-eye. And he’s not even a high-ranked marksman.”
In the old days, Alisha would have smartly pointed out Logan had almost cracked his ribs trying to shoot the target, and the general must have realized by now Logan was a top-notch marksman. However, the new Alisha said nothing.
Powell told Dryer to hold up the test. He then looked down at Alisha. “I not only expect to see each of the remaining fliers try for the target, but each one who misses it will mean another thousand demerits on your record.”
Alisha could see Colonel Dryer smiling as he stood behind the general. She knew better than to object to the unfairness of the order. “Sir, yes, sir.” She jogged over to the four remaining fliers. It was an impossible request. Not only were these her four weakest fliers, but also her four weakest marksmen.
“See how well it goes when you stay focused?”
They all nodded, now confident and certain they could also pass the test.
“In fact, I’m so confident you can do this, that the general and I have made a little bet on the side. He asked me why no one shoots the left-hand target, and I told him it wasn’t worth the trouble. Well, he thinks it is, so he suggested I come up with some incentive to see which of you can get closest to the bulls-eye.”
“I thought the target was impossible,” Rodney Rutherford reminded her.
“No,” Alisha assured them. “General Logan nailed it with a bulls-eye. It’s just you have to shoot across your torso. You can’t turn the catcher to shoot, or you’ll go off target.”
“That’ll hurt like hell,” Dave objected.
“There will be a kickback,” Alisha admitted. “But you guys are as tough as leather. I’ve seen you take some brutal tumbles in the wind tunnel. You can’t tell me a little kickback is going to frighten you off.”
“If you promise to rub salve on my bruised ribs, I’ll give it a try,” Rodney stated. He’d been “going for the gold” for the entire two weeks, so she wasn’t surprised by his suggestion. What did surprise her was how quickly the other three agreed to the same deal.
“Fine, I’ll rub salve on anyone who hits the target,” she agreed. It was a hell of a lot better than a thousand demerits. “But you can’t dunk the test to do it. You have to pass and hit the target.”
“And if we pass and hit a bulls-eye?” Rodney asked.
“The general will probably promote you to captain.” She hoped that was incentive enough.
“No, no, no…You can’t make promises for the general. What will you do?”
The general’s words came back to her about doing whatever it takes to get him ten more fliers. She had no doubt they wanted some sexual incentive. My job really is like being a virgin mistress.
&nb
sp; “What do you want?” she asked
“A kiss or a lap dance, our call,” Rodney offered.
“Deal.”
Instantly, the four slapped their hands up in a high five and let out a military “hoorah”. Alisha walked back to her post feeling as used and dirty as a first-day street girl.
***
She watched without emotion as the final four completed their tests, each one shooting across his torso and hitting the target. Four salves, she concluded at the end, and one lap dance for Rodney, who had come closest to the bulls-eye.
The general climbed down from his stand and pounded her on her back, congratulating her on a job well done. “I don’t know what you said to fire those boys up, but keep it up!” He dragged her along with him as he congratulated Rodney in person.
Chapter 7
As Alisha predicted, the general field-promoted Rodney to captain on the spot. She also congratulated him, but the intense look in his eyes scared the hell out of her. There wouldn’t be a lot she could do to prevent him from turning a lap dance into more now that he was a captain.
The general kept her in tow as he headed back to the officers’ compound. When they reached the door, the MP reluctantly blocked her way.
Powell seemed surprised by the MP’s action. “It’s all right, soldier, she’s with me.”
“But you specifically said she was banned with or without escort, sir,” the soldier reminded him.
The general demanded his name and awarded him a hundred merits for his strict adherence to orders. Then he looked at Alisha. “I have much to discuss with you, so I’ll cut to the chase. I’ve rescinded your demotion. You’re a colonel again.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said without enthusiasm.
Powell frowned and ushered her through the door and down the hall. Colonel Dryer attempted to follow, but the general told him to release Jack from confinement. “Tell him he’s a free man, and I’d like to see him in an hour.”
When they entered the commons, Powell asked her to fix him a cup of coffee as he sat down and reviewed the test scores of the fliers. “Ten Class Fives…one near death. What happened there?”
“He got nervous,” Alisha replied, bringing Powell his coffee.
He noticed she didn’t make herself any. “Fix yourself some as well, Alisha.”
She poured herself a cup. When she returned, she placed her drink on the table and resumed standing at attention.
The general looked up, annoyed. “For God’s sake, sit down.”
“Sorry, sir,” she replied, and took her seat.
He refocused on the folders in front of him. “I like this Rodney Rutherford. He’s out of Chapman’s squad. Just two years in the Corps, went to college first. What did you think of him?”
“He’s a good flier…”
“I could tell that. Tell me something I don’t know!” the general bellowed.
Alisha could think of a lot of things, but none she would say. He’d been all hands throughout the training. “He responds well to challenges. He thinks on his feet. And he’s aggressive when he sets his mind on having something.”
The general smiled and set his folder to one side. He went through each Ryder’s folder, and each time Alisha was required to provide her feedback. She knew if she only said positive things, Powell would slam her, so she tried her hardest to be fair but honest, stating a weakness if she had observed it.
“What about the one who nearly killed himself?” he asked as he opened the last folder.
“Private Michaels. I think he’s very promising, sir. He just needs to learn to focus under pressure.”
The general shook his head and tossed the file onto the pile of no interest. “That’s a flaw that gets men killed.”
“It’s my fault he failed, sir.”
Powell nailed her with a glare. “We aren’t going to go down that road again, are we?”
“No, sir. But how can I improve if I’m not allowed to admit my own failures?”
The general eyed her with mistrust. “So what was your failure?”
“I failed to properly prepare them mentally for taking the test, sir. I trained them with sufficient skills, but my style of instruction is not as well-suited for toughening their minds and enabling them to focus under pressure.”
Powell was quiet for a moment as he took a sip of coffee. “I agree with your assessment, Alisha. It is your weakness. Yet when I challenged you to make those soldiers hit their target, you seemed to inspire them well enough.”
Alisha paused. She knew despite all his innuendos to “do anything”, if she told him how she had actually motivated the men, he’d have her head. “I believe the credit belongs to Captain Rutherford,” she finally said. He had forced her into the shameful agreement.
“And what did he do?” the general asked.
“He negotiated an incentive that evidently worked,” Alisha replied, praying the general wouldn’t push the question any further.
His voice was more cautious now. “This incentive: was it not something you would have felt comfortable offering on your own?”
“No, sir,” Alisha replied.
“Yet you obviously agreed to it,” Powell countered.
“I was following orders, sir. You told me to do whatever was necessary to get you ten additional fliers, sir.”
She expected the general to bellow at her, but instead the room turned eerily quiet. When he finally spoke, she could tell he was angry, even though his voice was carefully controlled. “Alisha, when I said ‘whatever was necessary’, I did not intend to push you beyond your own natural comfort level concerning…certain personal choices of behavior. There are regulations clearly established to prevent abuse in this area.”
“Yes, sir.” She no longer trusted the regs’ ability to protect her from anything. A month under Colonel Dryer had taught her the regs were only there to punish, never to protect.
“I wanted you to find ways to motivate, not….” Powell was so angry he couldn’t even finish the sentence.
Alisha was relieved when Jack entered the room, looking a few pounds thinner and in need of a haircut.
“You look like a goddamn woman with all that hair,” the general complained.
“Sorry, sir, I was unable to find the barber. It seems Colonel Dryer sent him on an errand.”
“I’ve no doubt,” the general replied. “Well, sit down, Jack. I need to let you take over this conversation. I don’t have the patience for this foolishness. I believe you know what I mean when I say stretch the boundaries…”
“Yes, sir,” Jack replied.
“Well, try to explain it to Alisha, and take care of this damn mess she’s got herself into.” With the matter now passed to Jack, the general stormed out of the room.
The moment the door slammed shut, Alisha burst into tears and ran into Jack’s arms. “I’m so sorry! You warned me and I didn’t listen, and look what I’ve done to you! You’re nothing but skin and bones.”
Jack held her tight against him. “It’s all right. The worst part of my house arrest was that I spent it worrying about you. Gunny told me you almost died of hypothermia.”
“I didn’t lap dance,” she managed to get out between her sobs.
He stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. “I never thought you did.”
Once she’d calmed, Jack walked her to the couch and pulled her down beside him. “Now, tell me what made Powell high-tail it from the room.”
Despite sporadic bursts of tears, she managed to explain the horrible deal she’d made to motivate her fliers.
Jack kissed her forehead. “Alisha, you can’t allow yourself to be manipulated like that. We don’t negotiate with our troops! You’re their colonel. You have other means to motivate them than your sexual favors.”
“Well, as a point of fact, I wasn’t a colonel. I was a private with over 45,000 demerits, looking very likely to receive 4,000 more and send us both to the brig. And with all the groping I’d endured from Colonel Dryer,
I couldn’t imagine one lap dance with Rutherford could be worse.”
“But clearly you think so now.”
Alisha nodded and burst into tears again. “I felt like a street girl. At least when Colonel Dryer grabbed me, it was one-sided. I didn’t participate. However, this was different. I was selling myself. Not for money, but to keep us both out of the brig, but it was still a sale of my body.”
“Alisha, I’ve got this horrible feeling you did this for me. Let me assure you, I’d rather spend a lifetime in the brig than let you sell even a kiss.”
Alisha looked up and wiped her eyes. “It wasn’t just for you. Everyone kept telling me how females are raped and abused when they get sent to the brig.”
“They were just trying to scare you.”
“I don’t think so, Jack. They might have been wrong, but I think they were sincere in their warnings.”
Jack gently stroked her face. “So it was between being gang-raped in a jail or negotiating with Rutherford for a kiss or lap dance?”
Alisha nodded. “And it would help the Corps. I thought it would be easier to live with because I was clearly following the general’s orders.” Her face puckered up to cry some more, and she buried her head in Jack’s chest. “But it didn’t make it better. I still felt like a street girl.”
“The general never meant for you to sell yourself, Alisha,” Jack assured her.
“He said ‘whatever it took!”
“I’m sure he did.”
“He said I was to show his fliers the same ‘comfort’ I showed Tucker,” she added. “Don’t tell me he didn’t know what he was ordering me to do!”
“Shhh,” Jack whispered. “Just calm down and listen to me. Do you remember the dinner where you announced you didn’t see what the big moral problem was with allowing the Ryders to get comfortable in the tunnels by having sex?”
Scavenger Vanishes (The SkyRyders Book 3) Page 4