Private Pilot

by Karen Deen

  Instead, I need sleep, it will calm the brain. Maybe if I dream all about Paige just like I’ve imagined and that kiss. Jesus, that kiss was heaven and thinking about it will help me wake with a smile on my face. Or a problem in my pants. Either is a good result.

  ~

  “Captain White, I’ve been requested to provide a pilot to take a special forces team in behind enemy lines to do an extraction of a group of women and children who have been cut off by the fighting. You will be required to do a night flight and remain on the ground while they are rescued and loaded into the bird. There is the risk of enemy fire, and I’m not overly happy with the mission. Unfortunately, the powers that be have already put the plans in motion. The pilot that had the orders for this flight has just been taken to the field hospital with a suspected heart attack. So that means they need you.”

  He pushes a folder towards me with the briefing enclosed. It’s unusual for Major Toro to show any hesitation with a mission. “You are the best we have, so you’ve been assigned. Wheels up at zero-one-hundred hours. Instruct your crew and be ready.”

  “Yes, sir. Will that be all, sir?” I stand with the folder in my hand waiting for further instructions that don’t come.

  “Any questions?” He looks at me with his stern frown, and you can tell he doesn’t want me to reply with a yes.

  “No, sir. We will report and be ready as commanded.” I stand to attention.

  “Good. Dismissed.” With that he goes back to his computer. I salute, turn, and start exiting the office when he calls my name.

  “Captain.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Safe flight.” With that he continues with his work.

  “Thank you, sir,” I reply and close the door to his office.

  Standing outside his office, I scan through the mission and take it all in. I have seven hours to have the chopper and my crew ready to head out. There is no time to waste. I need to brief them and do the preflight checks on the aircraft. Then before we head out, I need to send the usual emails I do before any risky mission. The first one to my family and then second to the boys. My family just get a brief one, with a few day-to-day pleasantries which gives me the lead-in to be able to tell them how much I love them.

  For Gray, Tate, and Lex, they get the truth. Obviously, nothing classified or what I’m doing, but my thoughts and feelings. There are things I need to tell someone, and I know it will stay with them. They have my back and will never repeat what I tell them. By the time I get back from the mission, I’ll have three email replies from them giving me hell about being a pussy or telling me about the latest hot girl they’re sleeping with. It’s exactly what I need to take away the visions of what I’m seeing and doing on a daily basis. Especially Tate. Nothing has changed since I left home. He’s still a man-whore and finding plenty of women who will put up with his huge ego.

  Several hours have passed, and I’m in the middle of my preflight checks with my flight engineer. Major Toro storms towards us at full stride. The hairs on the back on my neck are already standing up. Something is happening. I can tell by his body language.

  “Wheels up in ten minutes, White. Things have turned to shit. Mission is happening now. Special forces are assembling. Get the crew on board.”

  Fuck.

  The chopper is ready to go, but I hate when things change. It’s never a good sign. I haven’t written my emails home, which makes me anxious. I never miss them. Grabbing my phone, I send a quick few words in messenger to the boys. It doesn’t send, but I hope it will at some stage. I skip my parents. Mom will freak out, worrying because it’s unusual.

  Flight suit and helmet on, I’m in my seat with the rotors going as the special forces unit starts climbing in. Their captain fills me in on the change of mission. The fighting has changed directions, and the enemy fighters are heading straight towards the trapped women and children. If we don’t move now, they’re going to be either caught in crossfire, or captured, and we all know the terrible things that these radicals do to the women and children.

  Fuck that. Not on my watch!

  Once I take the control stick into my hands, my mind focuses and nothing else enters it except for the safety of my crew and passengers, and the mission.

  Being a night mission, it’s always harder for me, but it helps the team get in and out easier under the cover of darkness. The radio operations room is updating me on what’s happening on the ground as we get closer to the landing site.

  “ETA three minutes, you have ten minutes on the ground before wheels up. Control reports that the targets are ready and assembled. Good luck, gentlemen.” I see the flashes of light ahead of me. The gunfire is close to the place I’m about to set us down. My night goggles help me see the clearing in the grounds of the orphanage we’re approaching. “Gunners on standby. Set down, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, touchdown. Go time.” The men start scrambling from the open doors while my crew are on high alert for any movement in the shadows.

  In my headset, I hear all the talk between the Zulu team. Above the shouting I also hear children crying. I block it out so not to lose my concentration.

  “Wheels up in five minutes,” I call into my mouthpiece to alert the team we’re running out of time. My copilot reports there are soldiers running towards us carrying children. He can see women standing in the doorway with the last of the children. The first ones are being received by my crew, and the team is on their way back for the last group.

  “Wheels up in two minutes,” I call to the team, my senses on full alert. I need to get out of here.

  “Charlie Delta Bravo three-seven-nine you have incoming insurgents. Wheels up now.” I hear screaming into my ears from the control room. They have drones and satellites to see what’s happening on the other side of the wall. The Zulu commander is also hearing the same call and is yelling at the women to run but there’s one who is trying to give the last panicking child to the captain. All the soldiers have children in their arms, and along with the two women, are running towards us. I’m prepared to lift off as soon as the last body lands in the chopper. To my right, I hear a bang and the gate is blown up and there are bullets flying towards us. I hear the Zulu commander shouting as they’re throwing all the children into the back of the chopper. He jogs towards the last woman who is slower, still carrying a child in his arms. Dragging her towards the chopper with him.

  “Thirty seconds to takeoff. Come on, come on. I need wheels up.” If I can’t get up in the next few seconds, we are fucked.

  The rapid gunfire burst explodes around us and I hear the blood-curdling scream in my ears. My gunners are now firing and my copilot signaling for wheels up. I can’t focus on the picture in front of my eyes of the woman being hit and falling into the arms of the commander, just as they reach the chopper and are both dragged on board. It’s my job to get everyone out of here and back to the safety of the base. I pull the joystick and lift off.

  “Whiskey Sierra Lima, this is Charlie Delta Bravo three-seven-nine, we are airborne with at least one casualty on board. ETA five minutes. Over.” My heart is racing, I can feel the sweat all over my body. As I bank right, away from the orphanage, I can still hear the gunfire whizzing past and praying it misses us. The sky is lit up like the fourth of July. I’m not sure I will ever be able to enjoy a firework display again.

  There is screaming, crying, and confusion in the rear of the chopper as we head back to the base. My focus needs to be on flying, but I can hear it over the noise of the rotors. The medic is trying to calm her. My copilot signals that the woman has been shot in her stomach. The medic is yelling we need to get her to the hospital. I can’t fly any quicker than I already am. Especially with all the weight I have on board.

  “Whiskey Sierra Lima, this Charlie Delta Bravo three-seven-nine. ETA is three minutes. Urgent medical assistance needed for casualty, civilian woman with critical abdominal wound, over.”

  “Roger Charlie Delta Bravo three-seven-nine. Ambulanc
e on standby. Over.” Adrenaline pumping, I’m pushing the chopper. I need to keep them all safe so I can’t do anything stupid. Hearing my medic screaming in the coms that he’s losing her, crying babies and women, her voice crying to save her son. I can’t do anything. Just fly. Concentrate on flying. There’s the base. Almost there. Hang on. Please hang on. Save her, keep them safe…

  “Keep her safe!” My eyes fly open.

  Sweat running off my skin. My body rigid. Breathing like crazy. Sitting bolt upright.

  Need to count. “Ten, nine, eight.” Deep breath. “Seven, six… five, four.” Another slow deep breath. “Three… two… one.” Slow deep breath to hold in and very slowly release.

  “Fuck!” I run my hands through my hair, wet from the sweat.

  I haven’t had a full flashback for years. I have bits of nightmares along the way. But not this one, not the whole night. I know I won’t sleep now. The first light of the morning is breaking through the dark of the night. I need to get out and run. It helps burn off the pent-up adrenaline. Clear the head of the memories. Produce the good endorphins.

  Loud music pumping in my ears and the sun rising on another beautiful day brings peace. Although I’m tired from just a few hours’ sleep, I know today will be a good day. It’s my day that I volunteer and mentor the kids at the End of the Cycle Program. My counselor put me in touch with them when I returned from my deployment in Afghanistan.

  It’s a program that helps children and families from low-economic backgrounds. The parents get help to find work and budget to improve their living conditions while I help with the kids. Mentoring them in several areas of schooling, sports, and aiming for a career path to break the poverty circle in these disadvantaged communities. Helps me just as much as it helps them. Keeps the kids off the street and safe. Helps me to feel useful.

  There’s been no reply from Paige after my last message. I want to reach out, but I already feel unbalanced this morning. I’ve told her I’m here and how I feel. Time to leave it in her hands. Just get on with my day and hope it’s a better one for her and her father.

  Entering the gym at the program’s main center, I feel a good vibe. The noise of the boys all playing basketball and the ribbing that goes with it is just what I need.

  “Right, who’s cheating here?” I yell as I’m jogging onto the court. “Because that’s definitely the team I want to be on. Is it you, Leroy?”

  “It’s always Leroy,” Jesse yells from across the court to me.

  “Is that right, Jesse? Then you and I better take him down. What you say, buddy?” His smile makes my day.

  “Yeah dude, Leroy, you’re going down.” This has all the boys splitting into teams and trash talking each other. This is the healthiest thing these boys can be doing. Working off the testosterone that’s running wild in their bodies at this age, plus without realizing it, they’re learning about working as a team which is a life skill.

  After a few hours of playing basketball, we break for lunch that the center provides the kids. A hot meal that’s better than I can cook. Some of the mentors are chefs, and they include kids who are interested in cooking, teaching them skills to get a job.

  Sitting down in the mess room, Leroy places his plate down next to me.

  “Okay to sit here, Mason?” I love how far he’s come since starting with the program. In the beginning he wouldn’t have come anywhere near me. Nor would I have gotten the manners he’s showing me. It’s not that his parents haven’t tried hard to raise him well, he just fell into the wrong crowd and was losing his way. His mother reached out to the counselors here in hope we could do something. The young man standing in front of me should be so proud of how far he’s come.

  “Sure, man. You showed some hot moves on the court today. Almost got me. Better luck next time.” I elbow him in the side as he rolls his eyes at me.

  “You’re like a foot taller than me, man. How am I supposed to get past those arms of yours? They go forever.” We both laugh together.

  “How did your math test go this week, man?” It’s important we try to keep track of what’s going on in the kids’ lives. Being able to ask them a personal question rather than a generalized one shows that they’re important in our lives too.

  “That’s what I wanted to tell you. I can’t believe it. I got an A-plus. I aced it thanks to your help.” I immediately place my hand up for a high five. Slapping hard, then putting my arm around his shoulder.

  “So damn proud of you, Leroy. That’s all you, man. You put in all the study and worked hard. See what you can do when you put your mind to it? You’re a smart kid. Keep aiming high, buddy.” He looks a little embarrassed at the compliments. Since the program organized for a laptop and internet access, Leroy’s school marks have increased out of sight.

  “Can I share something with you? I’ve never told anyone, but when I was little, I wanted to be a pilot. You know, those ones that rescue people with the doctors and stuff.” His head’s down, showing how scared he is to admit it out loud to anyone that he has a dream.

  “Yeah, man, I know the ones you mean. A buddy of mine from the army is doing that out in California. Great job. Always something crazy happening in his job. What’s stopping you, Leroy?” I wait for him to lift his face up from looking at the table like it’s the most important thing he’s ever seen.

  “Kids like me don’t do jobs like that. We work at the factory like my Pa.” The defeat in his voice makes me feel more determined to help him make this happen.

  “Leroy, what do you think we do here?” I finally lift his chin to look at me. “We help to make your dreams happen. We can’t do it for you, but we can guide you and make sure you have every bit of help you need to make it. Now, I need you to tell me how badly you want this to happen. Is it just an idea, something you think about occasionally? Or is it becoming an ache that won’t go away and it’s getting bigger by the day?” The more I speak, the bigger his smile becomes.

  “Yeah, Mason, I can’t stop thinking about it. I use my computer to watch videos of rescue missions they fly, and I’ve found this really cool site that has flight simulators for the choppers they use.” The enthusiasm in his voice is perfect.

  This is why I’m here! To make a difference.

  “Well, let’s make this happen. Have you got your laptop with you?” He nods his head vigorously. “Go get it, man, let’s start researching how you apply and what subjects and grades you need. Don’t just dream it, live it!” As I slap his back, he jumps up from his seat and jogs across towards the locker room. Returning with his bag, his computer’s out on the table, open and ready before I even have time to eat the rest of my lunch. Oh well, I wasn’t hungry anyway.

  Later, I’ll message Johnno, my army buddy, and see what advice he has and any contacts he’s got in Chicago I can talk to. Maybe someone who can meet with Leroy and inspire him to keep aiming for the career he wants.

  Walking home, I feel lighter than when I left this morning. Watching a young mind open, the light turning on to their life, is amazing.

  The weather’s great this afternoon. The breeze is gentle, a perfect temperature. Sun shining, children in the fresh air playing with Mom watching from a park bench. Life here is so different to places I’ve been and experienced. Even though Leroy has struggled in his life, compared to kids who are growing up in a country that has an active war all around them, his life’s a blessing. No part of their day is pleasant as the bombs are exploding close by, the sky is filled with bullets, and no place in their world is safe.

  It's that word that gets me every time.

  Safe.

  I can’t seem to shake that word.

  Paige

  “Thanks, Beth. I’ll just be a little longer, I have a few things to tidy up and then I’ll be down for dinner and check on Daddy.”

  “He was fine when I checked in a few minutes ago before bringing up your cup of tea.” Beth disappears out of my father’s office door as quietly as she entered. I’ve set myself up in h
is office while he isn’t using it. It’s easier than using one of the rooms downstairs. The only person who’s allowed up here is Beth, and she’s like a vault, never letting anything she overhears leave her tight lips.

  Spending most of the day researching and digging through the records of the company, my brain’s exhausted. Yet I need to keep going to see what I can find. I’m not sure what to even look for, I’m just hoping it’ll jump out at me when I see it.

  There are a few orders that look a little odd here that I need to check. The company’s so big there’s so much to look through. I could use help, but I just don’t know who I can trust yet. Tyson offered to come over to catch up on the work from Friday and in case I need to postpone Monday or any day this week. Thanking him, I told him I’m fine and just need time with my dad.

  I don’t want anyone to know what I’m doing yet. Otherwise the element of surprise is gone.

  Leaning back in the chair, my mind is a jumble of numbers and facts. I decide to do the only thing I can think of to get through this. I call Franco, my godfather. He will always care for my father and me. Plus, he has some of the skills and connections I may need. It’s worth a chance.

  “Hi, Uncle Franco,” I speak into the phone.

  “Paigey, how’s my favorite girl? How’s your father today? I’ll be coming by tomorrow.” His voice is comforting.

  “Good thanks, Uncle Franco. He’s slightly better, but just resting and still on oxygen.”

  “Stubborn old bastard. Now, what is it you called for, my dear?” Franco knows I wouldn’t just call out of the blue.

  “I need help, and you’re the only one I can trust and with the skills to help,” I lower my voice.

  “This sounds ominous. Whatever you need, I’m here. You know that, right?” I nod even though he can’t see me.

  “Thank you. It’s pretty serious. I have reason to believe someone is trying to sabotage the company, and I have no idea who or how. Or even why, for that matter. I just don’t even know where to start, and of course I can’t trust my staff to ask them for help. So, I thought of you.”