Chris reluctantly pulled her mind back to the present, but it didn’t stay there long. As always, her heart dwelled with Dan McCord. She rested her head against her hands, closing her eyes for a moment. So far they had been able to keep their budding relationship a secret. At school Dan treated her no differently than any other student. And although Karen and Mark knew about their on-again, off-again relationship, they said nothing to anyone. Occasionally Brodie would drop an innuendo that she was carrying out her education with the instructors in the bedroom. It had angered her until she had finally parried his venomous attacks with a cool response.
“Hey, didn’t somebody tell you it’s lunchtime?” Dan asked, sauntering into the room.
Chris looked up and met his smiling eyes. A blanket of warmth flooded her body as she scanned his handsome features. “Has anybody ever told you you’re a sight for sore eyes?” she said, returning the smile.
Dan raised his brow in mock horror. “I don’t believe it! A compliment! Finally, after four months....”
He halted near her desk.
“Stow it, Major. I’m busy studying for your lousy aerodynamics-theory test this afternoon,” she growled, trying to get serious.
Dan turned and looked toward the door to make sure no one was passing by. He then slipped his hand beneath her arm, pulling her to her feet. “My goodness, it sounds like you’re picking up a lot of navy language from your friends in the class. Looks like I’ll have to brainwash you back to Air Force lingo. Stow it, indeed.” He gave her a dark look filled with humor. “Grab your flight cap. I’m taking you out to eat. And before you open those beautiful, inviting lips to say no, that’s an order, Captain.”
Chris stood there, enjoying his fingers upon her arm. Her imagination took flight for an instant, and she again wondered what it would be like to make love with Dan. “Okay, hot-rock jet jockey, let’s saddle up. I’m starved,” she returned, settling the cap on her black hair, which swung in a page boy around her shoulders.
Once in the car, he drove off the base, heading toward Lancaster. Chris looked at her watch. “We’ve only got an hour and a half,” she protested worriedly.
“So, I’ll drive fast. Ever see a Corvette fly without wings?”
“The silver wings on your uniform will never make up the difference.”
Dan grinned good-naturedly, reaching over and covering her hand. “How have you been, Raven? I’ve had one hell of a time trying to work in some time and space alone with you.”
She warmed to his touch, returning the pressure of his fingers against her own. “That’s your fault, not mine. If you’d quit piling on the homework so I wouldn’t have to study until midnight, I might get to see you occasionally.”
“Not to mention our nightly flights.”
“Or weekend sorties,” she agreed.
Dan squeezed her hand firmly. “But you’re doing fine, Raven. Everyone is proud of you, believe me.”
She pursed her lips. “Except Brodie and his clique.”
“Brodie’s opinions don’t count. Mine and the other instructors’ do,” he reminded her.
She groaned. “Thank God for small favors!”
“Hey, can we get serious for a minute?”
Her violet eyes twinkled. “Sure.” And then she looked at her flight watch, setting it for exactly sixty seconds. “Ready, ready now!”
“Wench,” he accused. “How about dinner tonight? I’m dying of loneliness.”
“That’s not bad. It only took you ten seconds flat. You’re a fast mover.” She glanced up at him. “You’ve got another forty-five seconds. Want to add to that invitation, Major?”
Dan gave her a wicked look. “What I have in mind is less talking and more action.”
She blushed beautifully. Chris wanted to share some of her personal discoveries with him and relished the idea of a dinner alone. “You don’t scare me. I’ll accept your dinner invitation.”
“You’re a brave woman, Raven.”
She laughed. “Either that or very trusting.”
“And the trust becomes you.” He raised her hand to his lips. “You keep changing and showing your softer side, and I won’t be held accountable for my actions,” he murmured, kissing her hand.
After the grueling two-hour mathematics test, all the TPS students stretched or got coffee. Dan had left the room during the fifteen-minute break, and Chris forced herself not to watch him leave.
“How did you do?” Chris asked her classmate, Frank Conway.
“Flying is fine, but this damn math is a bitch!”
“You did okay,” she reassured him.
Frank slowly got to his feet. “You like some coffee?”
“Love some,” Chris responded tiredly. “Put a shot of whiskey in mine,” she kidded.
Frank grimaced. “How about in an hour over at the O’Club? Major McCord will probably only hold us for another forty-five minutes since it’s Friday.”
“Thanks, but no.” Chris looked at him. “You guys do it for me.”
“Chris, you never go out and celebrate! All you do is go to the barracks and hit the books.”
Chris rose and stretched, placing her hands against her hips, leaning slowly one way and then the other. “Just my nature,” she explained, smiling.
“Well, I’ll get our coffee,” he said as he sauntered away. The room was partially empty, with Brodie and four of his sidekicks lingering behind. Chris ignored them, walking around the room to loosen her tight muscles. Another six pilots were discussing the test in lowered voices.
Brodie eyed Chris across the aisle. “Hey, Mallory,” he called, his voice carrying enough so that everybody could hear.
Chris lifted her chin, turning and meeting Brodie’s glittering gaze. “Yes?”
He grinned, easing his whipcord body onto the desk top, a wolfish smile on his narrow features. “I stumbled upon a pretty interesting piece of information about you.”
“Oh?” She immediately went on guard, realizing Brodie was going to start harassing her. He always chose a time when the instructor was absent. Another half dozen students filed back into the classroom armed with fresh cups of coffee. Chris tensed. Why was Brodie openly challenging her this time?
“Yeah.” His gaze drifted around the room. Now he had everyone’s undivided attention. “I don’t know about anyone else here,” he began loudly, “but if I were an engineer or navigator in this class, I sure as hell wouldn’t be flying with you, Mallory.”
Chris froze, her lips thinning as she glared over at the pilot. “What’s your game, Captain?”
Brodie laughed. “No game, Mallory. You eject when it gets down to the nitty-gritty.” His voice lowered to a deadly snarl. “The way I hear it, you left your buddy to die in a T-38 in Texas. The least little thing goes wrong and you’re ready to call it quits instead of staying to help the air commander with the situation. Just think of it, guys. Would you like to be with Mallory when she puts a T-38 into a spin? Only thing was, her AC stayed with the plane trying to control it and died doing it.” Brodie gave her a chilling smile. “You chicken out when the chips are down. That’s not what I’d like to see in a test pilot.”
A roar engulfed Chris, and she fought against the sudden deluge of emotion that Brodie had torn loose within her. A hundred questions caromed through her mind. How had he found out? Who had told him? That was privileged information! And every pilot in the room was staring at her, expressions suddenly closed, guarded and measuring. Her throat constricted as she stared disbelievingly over at the smiling Brodie.
“Well?” he prodded. “You’re white as a sheet, Mallory. It must be the truth.”
Frank Conway had entered with coffee in hand just in time to hear the accusation. “Probably a third of these pilots have punched out at one time or another,” he defended swiftly.
Chris managed to leash her emotions. “It’s all right,” she told Conway. She turned on Brodie, her violet eyes black with anger. “I did punch out, Brodie. And I don’t know who gave you that information, but you’ve screwed it up.”
Brodie rose, very sure of himself. “Wrong, Mallory. You’re the one who’s screwed up. You left the pilot alone in a bird that was heading for the ground. You left him to die—”
“That’s enough!” McCord snarled, stepping into the room. His voice cut like a knife through the turgid, confused atmosphere. Dan walked between Chris and Brodie, glaring at both of them. His thundercloud blue eyes were narrowed upon Brodie. “Captain, sit down. Nobody throws unsubstantiated accusations around in my classroom. Is that understood? I won’t have anyone throwing stupid attacks like that in this school.” Dan stepped within inches of Brodie. “Is that clear, Captain?”
Brodie glared back. “Yes, sir, Major.”
Chris felt her knees weaken, but she forced herself to walk to the chair before she collapsed. Dan ordered everyone to sit down, and launched immediately into another hour on aerodynamic theory. Her heart was pounding relentlessly, her body bathed in a cold sweat as Brodie’s words sank deeper and deeper.
Chris had lost the entire hour. She remembered nothing of Dan’s lecture, but was aware of only renewed pain, embarrassment and agony.
McCord walked up to Brodie after class had been dismissed. As badly as he wanted to, Dan could not console Chris. It had taken every bit of his concentration to continue to lecture that hour. He had seen the paleness of her features, her violet eyes wounded holes of pain, and watched her retreat within her shell. His anger was barely controlled as he stopped at Brodie’s desk. “I want to see you right now, Captain.”
* * *
G
RIMLY DAN THREW
the lecture notebook on his desk and waited until Brodie had shut the door to his office. Then he turned menacingly on the pilot. “Just what the hell are you spreading now?”
“Nothing that isn’t the truth, Major.”
“I told you once before, Brodie, we won’t tolerate attacks on anyone here. Male or female.” He pointed his finger at Brodie. “You’ve really overstepped your bounds this time, mister.”
“Think so, Major? Then just what the hell is the truth about Mallory and that T-38 incident?”
Dan gauged him in the shattering silence that built between them. Normally when Brodie was caught in the act, he became conciliatory. This time he was belligerent. Dan’s instincts warned him that Brodie wasn’t lying. His mind spun. None of the other instructors had been informed about Chris being in an accident and having to punch out. A new fear began eating at Dan. “I want the whole story, Brodie. Now,” he ground out.
“It’s short and sweet, Major. She and Captain Jim Rosen were up getting proficiency flight hours in a T-38 when it went into a dive.”
“Uncontrolled?” Dan asked sharply.
Brodie shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? You just sat out there an hour ago and accused Captain Mallory of not being able to fly! You’d better get your story straight. And in a hell of a hurry!”
“I don’t know all the details!” Brodie snarled back. “She punched out and left the AC. Word has it that she should have stayed. Some think that if Mallory had stayed with the bird they both could have pulled it out in time.”
Dan’s breathing was harsh. “I want facts, Captain. Not goddamn stories!”
The captain paled. “Check with Reese Air Force Base in Texas. You’ll get all the info you want, Major. I’m surprised none of your people knew about this,” he threw back boldly.
The tension thrummed palpably in the small office between them. Both men were tense, squaring off. Dan forcefully unclenched his fists as he grabbed his flight cap and walked around the desk. He was several inches taller than Brodie and stopped, glaring down at him. “You’d better hope for your sake that you’re right, Captain Brodie,” he breathed softly, his voice lined in steel. “Because if you aren’t, I’m having you disqualified from TPS. There is no place at this school for a pilot who operates on half truths. We rely on facts here, mister. And yours had damn well better be correct.”
Brodie stood a step away, his eyes widening momentarily. “It’s a pretty sad state of affairs when a student has to find out about another student’s lousy flying ability. I ain’t going up with anyone who’s a chicken in the clutch, Major. Man or woman,” he breathed hotly. “And I’m not worried about being on waivers, either. I’ll stick to my story and what I said. All you need to do is confirm it.”
Dan punched Brodie in the chest with his finger. “Captain, until you hear back from me, you keep your mouth shut concerning this incident,” he ordered. Dan left the office, heading toward the commandant’s quarters. The halls of TPS were deserted. It was late Friday afternoon, and everyone was taking well-earned breaks and letting off some steam from the grueling work.
Dan walked into Peggy Dube’s secretarial office. “Peg, where’s Colonel Martin?”
Peggy lifted her head, detecting anger in Dan’s carefully modulated voice. “He’s gone up to SAC Headquarters at Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska. He’s going to see if he can’t wangle a B-52 bomber out of them for the class later on. Why?”
Dan quickly ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Something just occurred in my class, and I need to verify some data through the files.”
“He’s already locked the files,” she apologized. “Maybe I can help?”
Dan sucked air in between his clenched teeth. “It’s regarding Captain Mallory. I need to know if she was involved in a T-38 crash at Reese. I don’t know when. I need to verify the information.”
Peggy’s green eyes widened slightly, her brows dipping. “Oh, dear,” she murmured.
He shot her a keen look. “You know about it?” Of course, what secretary didn’t know her boss’s business?
Peggy nervously shuffled some papers together before meeting his demanding gaze. “I only know that it occurred, Dan.”
Scowling he asked, “Do you know if she was cleared of the incident?” Reason told him she had to be, or else no one would have allowed her to come to TPS. Dan couldn’t figure out why the instructors weren’t told of it.
“I don’t know. Look, come back Monday morning. I’ll leave a note on the colonel’s desk, and you can discuss it with him further, Dan.”
“That’s not good enough, Peg. I’ve got one officer who knows bits and pieces of this incident and is beginning to spread the story around the whole damn base. It needs to be stopped now before it goes any further.”