Love Me Before Dawn

by Lindsay McKenna

  She put the slender headset on and was immediately confronted with the strange lingo of pilots speaking with the tower. There was a rectangular landing pattern at Edwards. After a plane took off from the airstrip, it would make a left turn, then fly less than a mile, and make another left-hand turn so that the plane paralleled the runway. The base leg was reached with the next left-hand turn. After that, the plane would make one last left-hand turn which would line it up to land on the runway. At least seven jets were now in that familiar pattern, practicing bump and go’s. Tess turned to Tom.

  “Which one is Shep’s plane?”

  Tom listened intently to the conversations for a moment. He nodded as if confirming his suspicion and pointed through the large, green-tinted windows that encased the tower. “He’s on the crosswind leg. The second white T-38 over there. See him?”

  There were several planes in that area and it took her a moment to sort them out. Besides two T-38’s, there was also a T-37 and a C-130 Hercules at a higher altitude.

  “Edwards, Hawk six, turning downwind,” Shep’s voice carried clearly over the earphones.

  Tom pointed. “That’s him turning now.”

  Tess nodded, her heart expanding with an inexplicable happiness. The last thirty minutes of anguish disappeared. She watched, mesmerized by the slender beauty of the T-38 streaking along one thousand feet above the desert floor. She listened as he made another call before turning onto the base leg. Having seen several other jets land and take off, she watched with interest to see if he would land the T-38 smoothly. The jet was like a graceful ballerina, banking for the final left-hand turn, lining up perfectly with the runway. She watched with pride as he made a smooth landing, the wheels of the jet lightly touching the airstrip.

  “He’ll hold it on the ground for a couple thousand feet before applying power through the throttles to take off again,” Tom explained. “Too bad you can’t be there with him. The g’s build up on takeoff. There’s nothing like it,” he said, excitement barely veiled in his voice.

  Inside the cockpit, Shep held the T-38’s nose level as he streaked down the runway. Right hand on the dual throttle, he inched it forward, listening to the whine of the engines increase, watching the rpm gauges jumping upward. The vibration of the tires against the runway made the jet shiver imperceptibly. He could feel the quiver throughout his body. It was as if the jet were a living being surrounding him. Out of long habit, his gaze swept across the myriad of dials. The sunlight was strong through the cockpit window even with the dark visor down over his face.

  Pushing both throttles to the maximum, he gently eased the stick back between his legs, allowing the nose of the jet to move upward. The gravity of g-forces built up against his body as he allowed the jet to lunge skyward. The engines growled with their high-pitched whine. “Edwards, Hawk six, turning crosswind leg.”

  “Roger, Hawk six, crosswind leg.”

  Just as he applied slight left rudder with his left foot and moved the stick a bit in the same direction, he saw a flight of birds crossing his intended flight path. His hand momentarily tensed on the stick. There was a sudden bang like a muffled pop on his left. The T-38 quivered perceptibly. Flame out! His lips thinned, and he whispered, “Son-of-a-bitch!” The jet had just lost an engine! From thousands of hours of training, his reactions were automatic. He yanked the throttle back to the idle position. His eyes shot to the rpm gauge. The needle lay lifeless, indicating the engine had flamed out; the flow of fuel to it had somehow been halted. Why? Had a bird struck the intake of the engine? Was it a simple case of a plugged fuel line? Should he hit the restart button? His mind whirled with options. At the same time, the jet nosed downward with the loss of the power from the engine. He automatically shoved the right throttle to the fire wall, making up the difference, halting the drop of the jet. Simultaneously, he hit hard right rudder to bring the jet back to a stable angle, allowing the right engine to labor under the added load.

  “Edwards, Hawk six, I just lost an engine. I’m declaring an emergency,” he stated calmly.

  Should he hit restart? He glanced at the exhaust gas temperature gauge. It was high and climbing. That meant it was more than a fuel line plug. If he didn’t shut the engine off completely, it would mean a fire. And if he shut that engine down, it meant the loss of all hydraulics to the landing gear. As he watched the temperature gauge soaring upward rapidly, he realized he had no choice. His eyes moved to the fire light indicator. So far, it wasn’t glaring red to show that fire had begun in the engine. Sweat trickled down his temple.

  With his thumb, he cocked the trigger on the left engine throttle, pulling it all the way back and completely shutting the engine down. Glancing out of the cockpit, he didn’t see any telltale signs of smoke coming off the dead engine.

  “Hawk six, Edwards. What is the nature of the emergency?”

  “Edwards, I’ve got a compressor stall. Have shut the engine down. Will call you on downwind after I manually lower landing gear.”

  “Hawk six, you are cleared to land.”

  “Roger,” Shep answered. His mind was clear. Shep wasn’t aware of anything but the present and what had to be done to get the jet back on the ground in one piece. Leaning over in the cramped cockpit, he gripped a handle, beginning to lower the landing gear manually. All the while he was watching the gauges which monitored the right engine, looking for problems because of the weight overload. He glanced at the fire light indicator on the port engine. So far it remained unlit. One shred of extraneous thought interrupted his concentration—Tess was down below. Did she know about the emergency? Grimly his lips thinned as he continued to work the handle to bring down the landing gear.

  Tess stood frozen, her hands across her mouth, eyes wide and frightened. Tom gripped her shoulder.

  “He’ll be okay,” he said automatically, eyes narrowed upon the limping T-38 in the downwind pattern. They had both seen the jet suddenly lag and fall to the left. Tess had gasped. The rest of the men in the tower suddenly went into action. As soon as Shep declared an emergency, the controllers set the alarm for the fire rescue unit. Instantly the trucks were screaming down the taxi way toward preplanned positions, ready to assist when the controllers brought the crippled jet in for the landing. All other traffic was immediately rerouted out of the pattern. Jets of all varieties suddenly scattered like a flock of disturbed birds in all directions, giving their wounded comrade all the airspace necessary to deal with the emergency.

  Tess felt her knees jelly as she stared horrified at the jet whose landing gear was slowly being lowered. She was barely aware of Tom’s fingers gripping her shoulder to steady her. Shep, she screamed silently. Oh, God, don’t die! Don’t die!

  Memories of losing Cy overwhelmed her. She had loved him and had lost him. She had fallen in love with Shep. Was he going to crash and die before her eyes? A small sob escaped from her and she buried her face in her hands, unable to cope with the grisly thought. Tom moved closer, putting his arm around her shoulders.

  “He’ll bring it down nice and slow,” he said. “Don’t cry, Tess. He’ll be okay. There’s no sign of fire on that left engine. He’s landed more than one jet with just a single engine.”

  Her heart was filled with anguish, regardless of Tom’s confident tone. Shep’s handsome face danced in her mind. She heard his laughter, remembered poignantly how he had made love to her, and how she had loved him in return. It was too much, and tears fell down her pale cheeks.

  “Edwards, Hawk six, gear down. Will contact you on base leg.”

  “Roger, Hawk six, landing gear down and in place. Runway is clear and ready. Winds calm, visibility unlimited.”

  “Roger, Edwards. Gear down and locked.”

  Tess hung on his every word. He sounded so calm! She looked up at Tom. “He doesn’t even sound worried!”

  Tom smiled for her benefit. It wasn’t much of a smile, but it was the best he could muster under the circumstances. “He’s a test pilot, Tess. He’s trained to think cal
mly under emergency situations just like this one.”

  “He’s got to be frightened!” she whispered, watching the white jet slowly descend.

  Tom shrugged. He didn’t say it, but he was worried. Shep hadn’t tried to restart the engine, which was the normal procedure. Most pilots of jet aircraft had experienced flame out. He didn’t explain the ramifications to Tess, sensing how frightened she was. Something had gone wrong with the engine or Shep wouldn’t have shut it off completely. He strained to see if the least little indication of black smoke was trailing after the left engine. If a fire started—he didn’t even want to consider the possibilities. Instead he shifted his attention to the fire trucks that sat at thousand-foot intervals along the runway.

  Each fire truck carried thousands of gallons of foam which would be utilized if there was a fire. They looked like lime green monsters. The firefighters stood ready in their asbestos-lined silver-hooded turn-out gear, looking like spacemen.

  “Edwards, Hawk six, making final approach.”

  “Roger, Hawk six. You are cleared for emergency landing.”

  “Roger, flaps down, gear locked.”

  Tess held her breath, hands clenched into tight balls of tension against her breast. The jet made the final turn, lining up with the runway. The what if’s careened through her frightened mind. The sun had risen high enough to begin burning the land once again. It created up and down drafts, large columns of air rising vertically thousands of feet into the atmosphere. As Shep guided the T-38 toward the end of the runway, several drafts made the jet bounce wildly. A lump threatened to shut off the air in Tess’s throat as the plane staggered drunkenly. A strangled cry was torn from her as the nose of the jet suddenly came up. The T-38 flared out only a few feet from the beginning of the runway, its flaps fully extended downward. It looked like a huge predatory bird hovering momentarily before it landed. Suddenly, the jet was safely on the ground, shrieking past them. The fire trucks moved into action, following the jet’s progress down the airstrip.

  Tess turned to Tom. “He made it!” she cried.

  He nodded grimly. “Come on, let’s get downstairs. They’ll park that jet away from here just in case of fire.”

  Shep throttle cocked the right engine, shutting it down and bringing the T-38 to a complete halt. Three fire trucks hovered nearby. He completed his post-flight check and watched as the canopy slowly yawned open. Unhinging the oxygen mask, Shep pulled the helmet off his head. His hair was damp with sweat, plastered against his skull. The ladder was brought up and hooked to the side of the plane, and he climbed down to the pavement. He took a deep breath of fresh air as he put the flight cap on his head and walked slowly over to the port wing.

  Three crewmen were inspecting the engine, looking into the mouth of the intake. As Shep came up, the crew chief raised his head. “You ate a bird from the looks of it, sir.”

  Shep looked into the fanlike engine. He grimaced. “There was a flock of birds in the area I flew over,” he explained to the crew chief.

  “Yes, sir,” the older man agreed. “From the looks of those bent fan blades in there, I’d say you sucked one in for sure. Well know more when we tear it apart for inspection.”

  Shep nodded. “Let me know what you find, Sergeant.”

  “Yes, sir. Good landing you made, Major.”

  He smiled distantly. “I didn’t have much of a choice under the circumstances. I’ll be over at Ops filling out a report on this.”

  The crew chief nodded, avidly returning to the inspection of the jet engine. Shep hopped a ride back to Ops. He saw Tom and Tess standing at the bottom of the steps. As he got out, he anxiously searched her face. The terror was written in her eyes and in the lines of her face. He thanked the driver, walking quickly toward them. There was a gathering crowd of people at the doors, but he ignored them, intent only upon Tess. He opened his arms and she flew to him. The soft curve of her body fitted against him and he groaned, embracing her.

  “Oh, Shep,” she cried, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  He laughed gently, kissing her hair. “I’m okay, honey. It’s a routine type of emergency,” he explained, making less of the incident for her benefit. The moment she raised her tearstained face, his heart contracted. The fear in her blue eyes was very real. Her lips trembled, glistening with shed tears. Leaning down, he kissed her longingly, tasting the salt, reveling in the pliancy of her lips beneath his mouth. Minutes ago he had been alone in the sky with an ailing jet. Now he held a warm, beautiful woman in his arms. Her mouth tasted sweet, and he inhaled the natural scent of her body. Finally he released her, giving her a reassuring smile. “I didn’t plan this emergency just because you were here,” he said, worriedly assessing her strained face.

  Tess gulped unsteadily, reassured by his arm around her body as she clung to him, afraid to let go. “I certainly hope not!” she said fervently. Giving him a small smile, she said, “I’m just glad you’re safe, Shep.”

  He laughed indulgently, turning and leading her toward the steps where Tom stood. “Makes two of us, lady. Come on, I’ve got a pile of paperwork to fill out over this incident.” He gave her a squeeze. “I’m still taking you to lunch. This doesn’t change anything.”

  Tess looked up as they negotiated the stairs. At least fifteen men stood watching them through the entrance doors.

  “What’d you do?” Tom asked. “Eat a bird?”

  Shep pushed the drying hair off his brow. “Yeah, I think so. I saw the damn flock rising, and they veered off right into my flight path. I heard a bump and rumble, and that was the beginning of the end.”

  “I was wondering why you didn’t hit restart.”

  “Couldn’t. The exhaust temperature gauge was climbing.” He grinned over at his friend. “Believe me, I wanted to. It’s a hell of a lot easier hitting restart than flying around on one engine.”

  Tess felt Shep’s arm tighten around her waist momentarily. “You okay?” he asked.

  She tore her gaze from the crowd, from one man who was staring at them with more than just idle interest. Derek Barton gave her an evil smile and then turned away. Tess tried to shake the ugly feeling, returning her attention to Shep. “Yes,” she said, “I’m fine. Just a little shaken.”

  Tom opened the door and they filed through it. The small group parted, allowing them to walk toward the debriefing area. “What will you do if I get to be the first to fly the B-1?” Shep teased. The adrenaline that had been pumping through him during the emergency was waning, leaving him feeling momentarily exhausted.

  “If you are selected as the first to fly it, I told Tom I’d probably be a basket case,” she confided.

  Shep feigned shock. “What? You don’t trust the plane you’re building?”

  “We know she’ll fly. I’ll just worry, that’s all.”

  He shared an intimate smile with her. “That’s nice to know,” he murmured.

  Tess sat in a chair at the back of the room while Shep and the Ops officer went over the series of events concerning the T-38 incident. She couldn’t quite understand how Shep could be so casual about the near accident As he spoke with the other officer, she watched his gestures and listened to the tone of his voice. It was as if he were making small talk about the weather to a stranger. Tom excused himself, saying he had to meet someone for lunch over at the Officers’ Club, and left. She glanced at her watch—it was almost eleven thirty. With a inking feeling, Tess knew she would have to leave shortly in order to make it back to L.A. on time. She had promised to be in by no later than one thirty P.M.

  Tess was deep in thought about seeing Derek Barton at the base when Shep walked over and interrupted. He smiled down at her, holding out his hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Ready for a late brunch?”

  She took his hand. His fingers were strong and steady. “It’s eleven forty, Shep. I have to leave for L.A. in a few minutes,” she explained, walking with him out the front door. The sunshine was bright and warm. The wind had pic
ked up briskly off the desert, blowing a few tumbleweeds down the street in front of them. He halted at his car, opening the door for her.

  “Then I’d better take you to Tom’s house to pick up your car.”

  Tess glanced over the top of the car at him. If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. “That would be fine,” she agreed quietly.

  The trip back to his house was mercifully short. He walked Tess over to her Toyota, which sat out in the street next to Tom’s home. She opened the car door, turning and looking up into his incredibly handsome face. His hair had been dark with sweat earlier from the near accident. Now it was dry, the wind lifting strands of it, giving him a boyish appearance. “I’m sorry I have to leave.”

  Shep shrugged his broad shoulders. “Duty calls, like you said before.” A wry smile drew the corners of his mouth upward. “If I hadn’t had that emergency, we would have had plenty of time for brunch. Can I get a raincheck?”

  She warmed to the huskiness in his voice. She didn’t want to leave him yet. The accident was too real. It had produced a startling revelation in her—she loved Shep. Did he love her? Digging nervously for the car keys in her purse, she nodded. “Sure you can.”

  “What about dinner Friday night? I understand the test pilots have to be down at Rockwell during the day to review some of the latest system designs descriptions.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He grinned, his gray eyes twinkling. “Sure?”

  “Very sure.”

  Reaching over, he placed a light kiss on her lips. “It’s a damn good thing we’re out in the street,” he growled. “Or I might not be responsible for my actions. I’ll see you Friday, Irish princess. And be careful driving back to L.A. One accident a day is plenty.”

  Tess fervently agreed, her lips tingling from the touch of his mouth. “Just be careful, Shep…”

  He stepped away. “Where you’re concerned, always. And don’t make too much of what happened today, Tess. It’s a pretty common flight problem.”