by Ali Vali
Synopsis
Commander Berkley Levine is content with her life as a Top Gun instructor in Fallon, Nevada, flying F-18s for the Navy. A change of government and a new equality initiative places Captain Aidan Sullivan at the helm of the Navy’s newest carrier, the USS Jefferson. Her first mission could lead to serious international consequences if she fails. Aidan’s orders are to destroy two sites housing the nuclear program of an unfriendly nation, and she can think of only one person she trusts enough to get the job done: her old lover Berkley.
Blue Skies will take you from Fallon, Nevada, to the Sea of Japan and beyond, as Berkley leads an elite group of pilots over enemy territory. As they embark on this adventure, Berkley and Aidan try to rediscover what they gave up for family, duty, and country.
Blue Skies
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Blue Skies
© 2009 By Ali Vali. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-420-1
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, New York 12185
First Edition: May 2009
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editors: Cindy Cresap and Stacia Seaman
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Photo: Barb Kiwak (www.kiwak.com)
Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])
By the Author
Carly’s Sound
Second Season
Calling the Dead
Blue Skies
The Cain Casey Saga
The Devil Inside
The Devil Unleashed
Deal with the Devil
The Devil Be Damned
Acknowledgments
The more I write, the more it becomes clear that the final product takes a team, no matter how long I spend at the keyboard. That was definitely true this time, and I have to thank Radclyffe more than ever for her steady, unbending support. I’m lucky to have found such a good home with BSB, and such a great person to work for.
A million thanks to my editor Cindy Cresap. Cindy made this process easy during a difficult time, and for that I’m forever grateful. You’re a good and patient teacher.
If I consider this book a cake, the definite icing is the cover art by Barb Kiwak. Thank you, Barb, for your talent and vision as well as your friendship. Thanks also to my first readers Kathi Isserman and Connie Ward. Your enthusiasm for more is a great encouragement to keep writing.
Thanks to the readers. Each word is written with you in mind.
Thanks to my parents for teaching me what true dedication and commitment are all about. These past few months have been hard, but you’ve chosen life, love, and laughter. It makes the battles easier to fight, and if there’s one person I’m confident will win whatever battle is put to her, it is my mom.
Thanks to my partner, who fuels my imagination and makes my life fun even when laughing is the last thing I think I’m capable of. I love you with all I am.
Dedication
For C
My love, always
&
For Mami
Each day is a gift
Chapter One
White House Situation Room, Washington, DC
“Sir, I don’t mean to argue with you.”
“Then don’t,” newly inaugurated President Peter Khalid said in as calm a voice as possible without being overly threatening. “I know I’m new to the job, but let’s get something clear right now. The election is over and I don’t give a damn how many of you endorsed the other guy—he lost. You ended up with the one who isn’t the war hero, so learn to live with it or get the hell out.”
“Sir—” Admiral Rodney James tried again.
“I’m not finished.” The president stood from his seat at the head of the table in the situation room. “I’m the candidate who promised change, and that’s what the American people are going to get. They’re going to get it even if I have to fire everyone in this room to get a more receptive audience. Do we understand each other, gentlemen?”
A chorus of “yes, sirs” came from the military leaders around the table except for Admiral Rodney James in his stiff blue dress uniform. The four stars gleamed against the dark fabric as if he spent a good bit of time lovingly buffing the symbols of his success, and they showed Rodney’s commitment to service. Everything about him practically screamed tradition, honor, and most importantly, the status quo.
Peter saw how his shoulders stayed rigidly straight as if someone was pressing their knee to the middle of his back. The defiance in his eyes held the message “don’t rock the boat, especially on my watch, asshole.”
“Admiral, do we understand each other?” Peter repeated.
“With all due respect, Mr. President, if you aren’t interested in my opinion, then why am I here?” Rodney put his hands on the oak table and leaned forward in a way that showed he was a man used to giving orders and not getting any flack about it. “What we have is a serious situation here, and it calls for men to make a serious response. It’s no time for publicity stunts or an implementation of radical changes. What you need to do is let us handle this, so the message is clear. You may be new to your job, but everyone in this room is highly trained and totally capable of handling it. All we need from you, sir, is a green light.”
“You’re dismissed, Admiral James.” Peter rested his weight on his fingertips as he leaned forward. “Vice Admiral Garner,” he said to the naval officer standing behind Rodney close to the wall. “When can you carry out my orders? Or do I go down to the next eager beaver looking to be promoted? And I mean that even if I go down to the person cleaning the toilets on the smallest dinghy in the Navy.”
Vice Admiral Sawyer Garner opened his briefcase and removed a file. “A bit young, but an excellent candidate for what you have in mind, Mr. President. Captain Sullivan comes from a Navy family, and I don’t see a problem getting the job done once we decide on a course of action. The Jefferson will be in capable hands.”
“That takes care of the Navy,” Peter said looking down the line to the next branch of the military.
An hour later Peter had gotten what some would refer to as a token change, considering the size of the armed forces, but change to level the playing field for those who wanted to serve had to start somewhere. Placing talented, capable people who’d previously never been considered in positions of authority would either blow open the doors of the military old boy’s club, or blow up in his face, but either way Peter was committed to providing the chance.
“Thank you all for your cooperation.” Peter signaled his staff to dim the lights. “Now let’s get to why we’re here.”
“The situation is serious, sir, but it can be easily defused if you’re willing to send a message,” Garner said from his new seat at the table.
“I believe I’ve demonstrated I don’t have a problem with that, so let’s hear everyone’s suggestions.” The screens in the room suddenly displayed an array of maps and satellite images.
These were the moments the military personnel trained for and that defined presidential legacies. Peter took a deep breath and felt his hair turning gray. There
was already a conflict in the Middle East involving U.S. troops, and what they were contemplating had the potential to start a fire that would make the Iraq situation seem like a mere grain of sand in a vast desert in comparison.
*
Top Gun Facility, Fallon, Nevada
Blue skies. The expanse of them made Commander Berkley Levine smile and think momentarily of the games of hide and go seek she played as a child. This was the same concept, but with a day like this it was more of a game of sitting duck if you didn’t know what you were doing.
It was the slightly panicked voice in her ear that put the memories aside.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” The young navigator sounded concerned. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re starting to drift a bit off course.”
“Tell me what you see, Lieutenant.”
“Ma’am?”
“Look around and tell me what you see.” She aimed them farther north and was confronted by even more blue skies.
“Nothing, ma’am.” If his breathing was any indication, her relaxed chuckle ringing in his helmet had driven his nerves up a couple of notches instead of reassuring him. “Blue skies, Lieutenant. It’s the one thing God made for all of us to enjoy no matter what name you call Him by.”
“All that wonder confronting you, and your answer is nothing?”
“I’m sorry, Commander.” The answer was tentative.
“Do you see anything else?”
“No clouds?” He sounded as if this was a test that none of the crew in the simulator told him about before sending him out with Berkley.
“That’d be a great answer if I’d asked you what you don’t see.”
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“Sorry won’t bring your pilot back when you don’t also see the bogey coming up on us at five o’clock either, Harvey.” Berkley heard Lieutenant Harvey Whittle gasp as she went into a set of rolls to get away from their pursuer. When she leveled off their bogey was now in front of them.
One quick press of the trigger on the throttle and the computer eliminated the slick young hotshot trying to sneak up on them. She then banked again hard to the left and avoided the trap the young fliers had set. Their objective had been to sacrifice one in order to get their main target, which was her. It was a game, after all, and they could land that afternoon bragging how one of them had done the impossible—brought down the one flyer who had yet to be caught in the crosshairs during these training sessions.
“Still with me, Harvey?”
“I’m trying my best, ma’am, but I’m getting a little dizzy. That’s usually not a problem, but none of the other pilots I’ve gone up with have put so many moves into their flying.”
“Uh-huh.” She pitched them forward into a dive that made it seem like they were on a roller coaster more than a jet. “You haven’t christened the seat back there, have you?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Good. Keep an eye on that guy on our ass, will you please? Trust me, Harvey, it’ll keep your mind off your breakfast.” The mountains of northern Nevada got very close as she flew lower to the ground than their commander liked, but she knew she wasn’t about to hit one of the protruding rocks.
“Cletus, get your ass above fifteen hundred feet,” the tower broke in.
“Aye, aye, sir.” It felt like she slammed the brakes on and Berkley could almost hear the plane that had been on their tail scrape the glass when they overshot them. “Ask and you shall receive.” She then climbed in a hard bank to the right trying to draw her opponent out in an attempt to get him to start thinking like a seasoned combat pilot. With the move she had just put on him, it would have been the easiest thing in the world to just finish him off.
“What are you waiting for, ma’am?” Harvey now sounded more engaged in the process.
“You sound impatient.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you what to do.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, did I?” She laughed again. “Good to hear you’ve gotten over a major bout of timidness and started to open your mouth.”
“He’s circling back around, ma’am.”
“Good job. Now keep your eye on the bouncing ball.” Before he could ask what she meant they went into another dive, flying through a canyon that Berkley was sure the hotshot behind her wasn’t going to follow her into.
Pilots like Lieutenant David “Blazer” Morris were good, but most of the time they were predictable. It was Berkley’s job to knock some of that cockiness away and teach them to be better than good. It was her job to make them Top Guns.
“Still with me, Harvey?”
“Yes, ma’am, and I still have Blazer in sight. He’s behind us but hasn’t entered the canyon.” A wall of rock was coming up, and she had no choice but to gain some altitude. When she did the young pilot behind her would have a clear shot. “He’s locking in, ma’am.”
“Of course he is. Are you a gambler, Whittle?”
“I like playing poker. Why?”
She laughed again and accelerated a little. “Well, we have to gamble that we can fly out of here before we hit those rocks, not hit Blazer, and not get shot down.” While Berkley could hear the computer’s warning of the lock Blazer had on them, she was more interested in something else in the front of them. Seemingly only inches from their demise, Berkley saw what she was after and pulled back on the stick, bringing them shooting out of the canyon like a bottle rocket on the Fourth of July.
A soft “fuck” came through her headset from Harvey when they heard Blazer and his navigator celebrating their kill, having gotten off a shot before Berkley could take any more defensive maneuvers. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I feel like I’ve let you down.”
“I appreciate that, but don’t be so quick to count us out.”
“Cletus.” The radio cracked to life again.
“Yes, sir.” She started back to the base taking the long way around for a few more minutes of flying time to work on her craft. Way out of sight of the brass she did a series of rolls that she was sure made Whittle wish he’d skipped the Spanish omelet that morning. Flying was her religion, and just as those who prayed to demonstrate their devotion to God, she showed her devotion to flying by trying to become as perfect as she could, no matter the situation.
“Let’s call it a day. So bring Whittle back before the boy has a nervous breakdown.”
“Yes, sir.”
The F-18 came to a stop and the ground crew was waiting with the ladder to help them out of the cockpit. A hundred yards from them, Blazer was being congratulated by his peers for being the first to score a kill against the legendary pilot they’d chased all day.
The backslapping continued as Berkley’s feet hit the tarmac and she shook out her short dark brown hair. Even if she had been perturbed by the display, she wouldn’t let them see it in her eyes, and she covered them with Maui Jim sunglasses.
“In the conference room, ladies, unless the party has already begun and you can’t spare the time,” Berkley said as she walked by.
All the students snapped to attention and gave her a rousing, “No, ma’am.”
Chapter Two
“Blazer, what did you learn today?” Captain William Percy “Rattler” Jepson stood at the front of the room in a uniform so starched it seemed it would crack when he moved. Will had been the commander of the Top Gun school for fifteen years and rarely took to the skies anymore. He did have an eye for talent when it came to combat pilots and culled the best of what the armed services had to offer to help him teach the next generation to be exceptional.
“If you keep at it, sir, any bogey can be brought down.” Blazer cut his eyes toward Berkley. “No matter how good they think they are.”
“Boy, stop talking before I ground you until the next millennium.” The monitor at the front of the room came to life and the computer records of what had happened that day were cued up. “You thought you’d sacrifice your wingman for the glory of the kill. If I were Cobra, I’d request
never to be sent up with you again.” The first pilot taken out that day at the end of Berkley’s computer guns nodded slightly. “The score you were after learned a long time ago that teamwork is what gets the job done. Impressive flying trying to keep up with her, though.”
His words belied his statement as the footage from the camera in Berkley’s plane was cued up. More than one of the pilots in the room cringed when the onboard monitor showed just how close the canyon she had flown through actually was. No one’s eyes were wider than Harvey’s. He was pressing his hands so hard into his desk his fingers were purple.
“Answer me one more question, Lieutenant Morris. Can a ghost shoot someone down?”
“Sir, I’m sorry. I don’t understand the question.”
“Am I speaking in tongue, boy? Can a fucking ghost shoot someone down?”
“No, sir, not that I know of.” Blazer’s face flushed scarlet and his hands clenched to fists. Will stared at him, and Berkley could tell the young pilot wasn’t used to being made fun of and that the laughter around him was starting to piss him off.
“Then you can apologize to your fellow fliers for bragging about bringing Cletus down.”
“I shot her fair and square. That you can’t take away from me.”
The computer cut to some different footage showing both Berkley’s and Will’s computers in a split screen. Just before she came screaming out of the canyon, Will’s smaller and faster plane had zeroed in on Blazer and knocked him out of the game. “If you’re dead before you get the shot off, it don’t count, boy. Cletus used the same tactics you used on her to give her wingman the shot. Because in the end she knows dead is dead no matter who pulls the trigger.”