I quieted as a soldier came closer.
“Do you know that story?” the young PFC asked, nodding toward LTC Howard.
“Yeah, a little,” I answered softly.
“He died in this hallway. Stepped in front of a nurse so she wasn’t shot, and he was killed instead.”
He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. I’d read every report Ember’s mom had been given. “Yeah, sounds like him.”
The kid’s eyes widened. “You knew him? He’s kind of a legend.”
My eyes drifted to the expanse of floor that ran to the operating bays as if his blood hadn’t been washed away…as if it still mingled with mine, spilled in the same hallway. But I was alive and he wasn’t for one simple reason—I’d had him.
Life was anything but fair.
“Yeah,” I answered. “I knew him. He saved my life.”
In every way possible.
Two hundred and twenty-three days to go and I was finally ready to fly missions. Funny how I’d thought that I’d be ready to go as soon as I left flight school. No. Students left Rucker at RL3, and had to make it to RL1 before they could do any flying without an instructor pilot. I’d thought those had stayed in flight school, too. Not so much.
But today I was ready.
Today nothing was happening.
“Is it the slowest day in existence?” I mumbled, tossing a tennis ball against the wall, my boots propped up on the desk.
“Don’t curse us. No work is a good day,” Captain Trivette said as she took the seat next to me and caught the ball on return. I liked her. She was level-headed, quick, and damn good on the stick. She also didn’t take shit as a pilot-in-command.
“Good point,” I acquiesced. It wasn’t that I was itching for action as much as I was ready to give back, to start paying the debt I owed.
An hour later, I got my chance.
“We’ve got a call!” Captain Trivette shouted into the bathroom. “One Bravo, one Charlie. Let’s go.” Bravo, urgent. Charlie, priority. Of course my first call would come while I was taking a leak. I shook it out and tucked it in and then ran for the door, squirting hand-sanitizer on the way out.
I grabbed my gear and sprinted, thankful that I’d kept up on PT since getting here. Seven minutes call-to-air—that was our average. Fastening my vest over my flight suit and moving my weapon from my thigh holster to the vest, I was ready to roll.
A strange mix of anxiety and excitement coursed through me in a way I’d forgotten and yet instantly remembered all too well. Helmet bag in hand, I met Captain Trivette on our way to the aircraft. Sergeant Rizzo climbed into the back as our medic, sliding the door shut after Specialist Frank got in.
I strapped on my helmet and kneeboard, and then we finished the run-up that had already been started. “We get the full nine-line yet?” I asked through the coms, knowing we needed the complete details before we could launch the aircraft.
“No,” Captain Trivette answered with a shake of her head. “I’m pretty sure the LZ isn’t secure.”
Not secure. They’re still taking fire, and you’re stuck at the fucking FOB. “This is bullshit.”
“Roger,” she said through gritted teeth.
Every second that passed grated each of my nerves, scraping them raw until I was ready to claw out of my skin to fly. I knew how it felt to be pinned down, under fire, with wounded…or to be the one wounded, praying for medevac. Those soldiers were out there waiting on us, depending on us, and we were still sitting here waiting on the fucking nine-line medevac request.
Just when I thought I was about to lose my shit, the details came in, and we launched. Two definite wounded. One walking. One litter. Unsecured landing zone. The ground fell away as I took us to the sky, heading toward the coordinates we’d been given. The Apaches would meet us there to provide security.
If those pilots were anything like Jagger, we were in good hands, but he was up at TK. We kept missing each other on the small opportunities we had to meet up.
Thirteen minutes in the air, and we approached the LZ.
“Gunman one-three, this is Dustoff one-two. Three minutes out,” I radioed the Apaches.
“Dustoff one-two, this is Gun one-three. LZ is not secure,” one of the Apache pilots called over the radio.