Jameela laughed and they pressed cheeks. Nike had been studying Pashto, and she knelt down and smiled into Atefa’s bright and happy face. The little girl had a new set of crutches from America, far better than her old ones. “Hello, Atefa.”
Shyly, Atefa smiled.
“Ready to go to Kabul?”
The little girl prattled on in Pashto. Nike had no idea what she was saying. Easing to her feet, she turned and looked at the progress at the CH-47. It had been unloaded, and Daryl waved to her to indicate everything was ready for takeoff. Since she didn’t stay on the ground too long, Nike gestured for Jameela to bring her daughter forward.
They walked slowly, Jameela on one side of her daughter and Nike on the other. The storms of last night had made the once-flat spot a mire instead of a dust bowl. Half the village had gathered to watch them. Nike had been informed that Jameela would remain at Bagram, the air base outside the capital, for three weeks. Luckily for her, Nike would get to stay the night at the base.
Nike helped strap Jameela and her daughter into the nylon seat. By now, they understood it would be a roller-coaster ride until they could get away from the mountains and onto the brown desert plains. As Nike belted in and worked with her copilot, Lieutenant Barry Farnsworth from Portland, Oregon, she quickly went through the preflight checklist. Her heart lifted. She might have been kicked out of BJS 60, but at least she’d get a night at Bagram Air Base. That, she was looking forward to with relish.
At the O Club on Bagram Air Base outside of Kabul, Gavin nursed a cold beer and tried to get past his disappointment. Nike hadn’t shown up at her tent. He’d gone looking for her but then one of his men had found him and told him they had fifteen minutes to get their gear together to catch a flight to Bagram for their R & R.
He looked around at the wooden tables filled with officers from all the military services. The long, U-shaped bar was made of plywood with plenty of bar stools. The room was crowded, with music, chatter and laughter. He should be happy, he thought, taking a swig of the ice-cold beer. The bubbles on his tongue from the beer always made him smile. There weren’t many perks in this war, but getting a cold beer was one of them. It washed the mud of the war and their thirty-day missions out of his throat.
Gavin rested his back against the bar. For whatever reason, his gaze drifted to the main door of the O Club. It was nearly dark except for the lights around the entrance. For a moment, he thought he dreamed Nike Alexander entering in her olive-green flight uniform. It couldn’t be! Heart pounding, Gavin slid off his stool, shock rolling through him. How did she get here? He didn’t think. His instincts took the lead and he moved toward Nike.
Knots of men and women crowded around the many tables. It was tough to get around all of them. When Gavin managed to meet Nike, he saw her eyes go wide with shock.
“Gavin?” Nike blinked twice. Her pulse raced; she couldn’t believe her eyes. Gone was his beard and his Afghan clothes. He was a suave urban American male in a pair of blue jeans and a short-sleeved white shirt. Even more, Gavin Jackson was drop-dead handsome. His jaw was square, his mouth sensual. The merriment in his blue eyes captured her. When his mouth curved, she felt heat shimmer from her breasts all the way down to her toes.
“You look different” was all she could say in her surprise over seeing him again.
“And you look beautiful,” he said. Reaching out, he cupped her elbow. “Come on, I see an empty table in the corner. Let’s grab it. I’ll buy you a beer.”
Head spinning, Nike followed and she soon found herself sitting at a small round table. It was fairly dark in this corner, with just enough light to see Gavin. Damn, but she couldn’t stop looking at him. She’d never really seen his body because of his bulky Afghan clothes. Now he moved with the litheness of a cougar on the prowl. His arms were heavily muscled, his chest broad and powerful. Maybe it was his legs, those hard thighs, that made her throat go dry. She couldn’t believe how dynamic and confident he appeared now. As Gavin turned, smiled at her with two beers in hand, Nike felt that she was in some kind of crazy, wonderful dream.
“Here you go,” Gavin murmured. He set the beer in front of her, took a chair at her right elbow and sat down. Nike was wide-eyed and her curly black hair was wild, showing that she’d just recently flown. “Can you talk or are you still stunned?” He grinned.
Wrapping her hand around the chilled bottle of beer, Nike took a long swig. She closed her eyes and simply allowed the bubbles and the taste of the hops to wash down her dry throat. Once she set it down and found her voice, she gave him a silly grin. “I just can’t believe you’re here.”
Gavin had the good grace to flush and gave her a bashful smile. “I never expected you to waltz through that door, either.”
Nike took several more sips as his words registered. A waitress came over and she ordered a hamburger and French fries. So did Gavin. Nike rested her elbows on the table and stared at him. “How’s your leg wound? I didn’t know you were off Alpha Hill.”
Feeling giddy, Gavin relayed the chain of events, during which he ordered another round. “Nike, I talked to Emma Trayhern-Cantrell and she told me what happened. I’m so sorry.” How badly Gavin wanted to reach out and squeeze her arm, but he didn’t dare. This was a military O Club and fraternization was not allowed. You could get drunk and fall on your face, but no kissing, holding hands or anything serious with the opposite sex. The exception was when the jukebox prompted couples to dance and the floor became crowded.
“Don’t worry about it, Gavin. Emma and I knew we were breaking every rule in the book for Berkie.”
His eyes were sad. “Then it’s true? Your CO booted you out of BJS 60?”
“For the time being,” Nike said, relishing the taste of her second beer.
“I didn’t realize what this might do to your and Emma’s careers,” he muttered with sincere apology.
“I’ve lived long enough to know I’m not always going to do things right. Berkie was special to me. Well, all your guys were. When you said he was bleeding to death, all I could think about was his wife and baby daughter. I couldn’t stand by and let him die.”
“Well,” Gavin said, his voice hoarse with emotion, “Berkie is on his way stateside. I don’t know if you heard his update, but he’s going to make it. Right now, he’s on a C-5 Galaxy flight headed for Walter Reed hospital in Maryland. I know that Vickie, his wife, is flying in from Louisiana to meet him at the hospital after he gets through the entry process.”
“Wonderful!” Nike said. “Is she bringing his daughter? I know he’s only seen video of her on the computer.”
“Yep,” Gavin answered after taking a swig of his beer, “Francesca is going to be in her mother’s arms when she’s allowed to see Berkie. It’s going to be one hell of a reunion.”
Nike sighed with deep contentment. “Thanks for sharing all that with me, Gavin. It makes what we did worth it ten times over.”
“Don’t tell that to Major Klein. Next time, she’ll crucify you.”
“Oh, she’s not like that usually,” Nike said, smiling. “Dallas had to do it, Gavin. If she allowed us to get away with it, other pilots in other situations might think about abandoning their seat for another injured soldier. No, she was right and we were wrong. I’m willing to take the fall and so was Emma.”
“You two are tough women warriors,” Gavin said. His hand ached to hold hers.
“How long are you here for?” she asked. Gavin’s face was deeply shadowed by the sparse light and it made him even more handsome—and so dangerous to her pounding heart. “And what happened to your beard?”
“I managed to wrangle three weeks here at Bagram for my team.” He touched his chin. “I shaved it off today after we arrived. I’ll have to let it grow back out. In three weeks, my mug will be covered again.”
“You must have run screaming to the base barber.” Nike chuckled. “Your hair is military-short, too.” Indeed, his black hair shone with blue highlights beneath the light. There was a predatory quality t
o Gavin’s face, especially with those large blue eyes. But it was his mouth that made her melt like hot butter. He couldn’t know how much his looks influenced her wildly beating heart and no way would she ever admit it to him. Just sitting here at the table, their elbows almost touching, was like a fantasy.
Gavin grinned. “My team hit the barbershop posthaste,” he agreed congenially. Touching his short hair, he said, “We just wanted to get cleaned up and feel like American men for a while.”
“Over in the barracks where I’m staying, there’s actually a tub, not just a shower in the room. I can hardly wait to get over there and take a long, luxurious hot bath. At our base it’s outdoor stalls with piddling water coming out of the showerhead. This is real luxury.”
“Bagram is beloved by all military branches,” Gavin told her. “I know you’re four months into your one-year tour here, but I’m sure you’ll look for every chance to get a night or two at this base.”
“That’s one of the perks of being a transport pilot,” Nike agreed. “In fact, tomorrow morning at 0700 I’m flying a supply of ordinance back to our camp.”
Frowning, Gavin knew the CH-47 would be filled with ammunition of all types. “That’s a dangerous run.” If the Taliban got lucky and shot bullets—or worse, a missile—at the lumbering helicopter, it could be blown out of the sky. He’d seen it happen on four different occasions and nothing was ever found of the crews. Nothing. Heart contracting, he kept his mouth shut. The possibility of her dying in a situation like that nearly undid him. And yet, every day, every hour, they were in combat and bad things happened to good people.
Nike nodded and finished off her second beer. The waitress brought two oval plates filled with hamburgers and French fries. After putting dollops of ketchup and mustard on her hamburger, Nike ate it with complete enthusiasm. For the next few minutes, there was silence because they were eating like there was no other pleasure in the world.
“Aren’t we a couple of starved wolves?” she chortled. Between French fries she added, “Down in Peru, in our cave where BJS squadron lived, we had a pretty good chow hall. Our CO made sure that we got fresh fruits, veggies and eggs from Cusco. I always liked taking our transport helicopter into Cusco. My copilot and I would spend the night in that high-altitude city, do the tango, drink pisco and have a wonderful Peruvian meal. Then, we’d stagger back to our hotel and fall into bed. The next morning, we looked like hell, took hot showers and got into our civilian clothes to be driven back out to the airport.” Chuckling fondly, Nike said, “We lived hard and died hard in Peru. We didn’t lose that many women or Apaches, but our job was just as dangerous as it is here in Afghanistan.”
“You traded jungle for desert. And instead of druggies, you got the Taliban.”
“Bad guys exist all over this globe, unfortunately,” Nike said. She finished off the French fries and gave him a silly grin. “I feel good. There’s nothing like American food.”
“But you’re Greek.”
“I know, but over the years of being in the States and then with the original BJS, I really got into American junk food.” She patted her waist. “Good thing I come from a family of thin people. Otherwise, I’d be over the weight limit to fly the Apache.” Nike chuckled.
“Do you really think you won’t be allowed back into your Apache squadron?” he asked, getting serious. A shadow appeared in her eyes and she pursed her lips. It rankled his conscience that he had been the cause of her career demotion. Gavin knew the military very well. With that kind of reprimand in her personnel jacket, Nike could easily be overlooked for the next rank. Well, he had to live with the consequences of his actions whether he liked it or not.
“I don’t think that Dallas will find another female pilot coming out of the Fort Rucker Apache training school,” Nike said. “Not that many women wind up in the flight program and there’s a lot of resistance to their being in the combat helicopter.”
“Surely your squadron’s exploits have shown them otherwise?”
“Over time the boys at the Pentagon stopped refuting our abilities.” Nike grinned. “It’s like pulling teeth, but we’ll get more women into the Apache program. Like Maya, our CO down in Peru, said, we have to hold the energy and keep our intent clear. We know women can do the job as well as any man. Flying the Apache isn’t about brawn. It’s about brains and coordination.”
A slow song came on the jukebox and Nike suddenly felt self-conscious.
“Come on. Dance with me. I like the idea of holding an Apache pilot with brains.” Getting up, Gavin extended his hand so that Nike couldn’t protest. He saw her eyes flare with several emotions, among them a desire to dance with him. He could feel it.
“Come on,” he urged, gripping her hand. “You can do this. You’re one of the bravest women I know, so don’t say no.”
Nike felt herself coming out of her chair. The dance floor was crowded as she followed Gavin out to the middle. When he turned and placed his hand on the small of her back and drew her closer, she came without resistance.
“See?” he whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “This isn’t so bad, is it?” He led her expertly around on the floor.
Laughing a little, Nike said, “Did I have a horrified look on my face?”
Gavin drowned in her golden eyes. “Hey, you said you danced with the Latin boys down in Cusco, so why not here, too? How can I compete?”
“You don’t have anything to worry about on that score,” she said. He kept about six inches between them. Even though he could have used his hand to press her up against his body, he didn’t. He gave her space that made her panic subside. Besides, Nike told herself, why not dance with Gavin? He was damn good at it.
“Oh? So I stack up pretty well?”
“Absolutely.” He gave her a mirthful smile and she enjoyed the happiness in his blue eyes. Why not let go? She had in Cusco. She’d blown off the tension and danger and death that always surrounded them. Dancing with Gavin was a wonderful antidote to her flying in this country, too.
“I can tango, too,” Gavin informed her, his grin increasing. “My mother loved ballroom dancing. I grew up knowing all of the different styles and steps. Competing as an amateur was her hobby.”
“Well,” Nike said, impressed, “you’re good.”
“You have no idea,” he told her in a roughened tone, his lips near her ear.
Her flesh tingled wildly in the wake of his warm breath as it caressed the side of her face. For a moment, his hand squeezed hers a little more firmly. An ache rose in her body. She was so hungry for him that it wasn’t even funny. Two years celibate had left her more than hungry, but she’d want Gavin in any condition. Something still made her hesitate. This wasn’t love, right? This could just be a physical release. That’s all she needed. At least, that’s what she told herself.
“So,” Gavin said quietly, “what’s going on behind those beautiful eyes of yours? I see you want me.”
“You are such a brazen dude.”
He whirled her around and then brought her back into his arms. “I want this night with you, Nike. There don’t have to be any strings, if that’s what you want. One night together, that’s it.”
She looked deeply into his eyes and considered his request. “Just sex. And friendship.”
Nike knew Gavin would be a good lover. She could tell by the way he monitored the strength of his hand around hers as they danced. She was wildly aware of his palm against the small of her back, and the way he sometimes caressed her with his thumb, as if stroking her. It reminded her she was a young woman with real needs. Maybe her grieving really was over and she hadn’t realized it. Antonio would always be in her heart and her memory. Nike never wanted that to go away. When she loved, she loved deeply.
Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Okay, let’s get out of here. Your place or mine?”
“Mine,” Gavin said confidently. He pulled her off the dance floor and smiled. “In the BOQ for the men, we each have a nice room to ourselves. I’
ll bet you have a roomie.”
“Yes, I do. Does yours have a tub?”
“No, but we’ll make do.” Gavin smiled wickedly and led her out the door of the club.
Chapter 13
Just as they reached the male BOQ—Bachelor Officer’s Quarters—an enemy mortar landed somewhere near the revetment area where all the helicopters were parked. Nike jumped and whirled around. Gavin automatically shielded her with his body.
Her eyes widened as mortars began to “walk” in their direction. Fire erupted when a helicopter was directly hit and flames roared into the air. Smoke belched into the dark sky, highlighted by the leaping flames. And then, when the aviation fuel on board the helicopter exploded, a huge reverberation of thunder was followed by a painful, earsplitting boom.
Pressing her hands to her ears, Nike saw Gavin’s tense, shadowed face as another explosion rocked a hangar nearby. “They’re going to need us!” Nike yelled.
Nodding, Gavin gripped her upper arm. “Where’s your flak jacket? You can’t go anywhere without it.”
He was right. All the festering desire that had bubbled up through Nike had vaporized in a split second. “I’m making a run for our barracks.”
“Be careful! Meet me back here when this is over.”
Nodding, Nike turned and hotfooted it down the line toward the women’s BOQ that sat on the opposite side of the airport. People were running, grabbing their helmets, shrugging on their body armor and wrestling with their weapons. As Nike ran, the wind tearing at her, she saw that the Taliban’s attack had been very successful. Three helicopters were on fire and utterly destroyed.
She ran around the end of the base and realized she had no weapon. Somewhere beyond the nine-foot-high fence, strung with razor-blade concertina wire over the top, were several Taliban mortar crews. Nike knew she could be a target with the flames leaping a hundred feet in the night sky behind her.
Changing course, she ran toward the burning wreckage and the fire crews now dousing the area with water. Better to take more time and go around the other end of the airstrip where it was safe in comparison.
His Woman in Command Page 14