Desperate Situations (2 page)

"Copy. Rescue moving into position. ETE five minutes."

"Five minutes," McGrew muttered as he moved to the rooftop door and secured it as best he could. He could hear shouts from the lower floors. He knew they didn't have five minutes as another small explosion rocked the building.

"Hey Ugly, ya'all see a McDonald's 'round here?" came a drawling, southern voice from the radio.

Smiles lit the soldier's faces, as the Captain grabbed the radio. "Ronald McDonald," McGrew answered back, going with the McDonald's theme since he had no idea who this was, but at least he sounded American, "this is Ugly Duckling
. We need a drive through, right now."

"Affirmative, Ugly Duckling. We'll be dropping in on you like a bomb, so leave a spot open for us."

The Captain looked straight up but still didn't hear the sound of aircraft. "We've got several dissatisfied customers here, Ronald."

"Here we come, Ugly. Ya'all had better be like starvin' hogs to a slop bucket, 'cause them boys there is good shots."

McGrew motioned to Stubbs, then to the prisoner, while the others hurried to help the wounded.

By this time, the distinctive whirling sound of a helicopter could be heard. As predicted, it was coming straight down on top of them. Fast. McGrew watched as the men scrambled toward the Black Hawk. His attention returned to
the roof exit.

Shouts in Arabic sounded from the streets. Bullets ricocheted and slammed into the sides of the building from below.

The door to the roof flexed inward as the insurgents tried desperately to get onto the roof. McGrew's eyes flicked to the helicopter hovering only two feet off the rooftop. The last of his men climbed on board.

The door burst open.

McGrew's barrage of automatic fire aimed at the door kept the insurgents off the rooftop long enough for him to make it to the chopper. He dove into the open door to be scooped up as the helicopter accelerated.

A crewmember of the Black Hawk swept the roof with fifty caliber bullets from the mounted door gun.

"Hold onto your nut sacks," came a yell from the cockpit.

The helicopter jerked to the side. It flew up
, then jerked the other way as it continued to ascend.

The Captain's gut dumped into his boots from the helicopter's rapid movements. One bullet hit the fuselage but did no damage. Within seconds, they were out of range.

Rios and Hamilton helped McGrew to a seated position.

McGrew glanced at his watch. "Casey, loosen Reed's tourniquet half a twist or he'll lose the leg," he said as he checked Escobar's bandages. McGrew could see relief on all faces but one, their prisoner.

"Yee-haw!" came from the cockpit as the crew chief in back slammed the door on the helicopter. He smiled broadly at the soldiers as he resumed his seat.

McGrew held out his hand to the crew chief, yelling above the noise of the engines, "Out of curiosity, who just saved our butts?"

The brown-skinned man smiled broader, his jet-black hair shining in the sunlight from under his flight helmet. "We Famine." They shook hands.

"Come again?" McGrew yelled back.

"We be going by on delivery, coming back. Heard call for pick-up. We goodly at rescue." His big, toothy grin stayed in place as he plugged his helmet back in then pointed at the Captain to grab the handset in the ceiling above him.

With a puzzled look, McGrew did as instructed.
Who are these guys? They obviously aren't U.S. Military. This guy sounds Hispanic.
Then it hit him.

Mercenaries.

"Hallo there. Ya on, Ugly?" the southern voice called out over the intercom.

"Yes. Who should I thank for saving our asses today?"

A laugh sounded over the handset. "Ya'll welcome. We work for White Pine Aviation and Security. We were headin' home when we heard your radio call to the base. Sorry for butting in, but ya sounded desperate."

"Desperate doesn't describe it. What's your name?"

"I'm Cowboy." A chuckled followed. "The pilot is the Ghost. The guy back there with you is Gunner." McGrew nodded thanks at Gunner who was listening.

"Where can we drop you boys?"

"We're out of Sierra Echo One Base. It's also the closest."

"Uh, can't do that, pardner. See, we gettin' low on fuel and that little maneuver took most of our reserve. Best we can do is meet up with your folks somewhere in the middle. Think you can arrange that?"

"Can you hook me into the right channel?"

"Shore can. Give me a minute." The radio went dead.

Suddenly a slight squawk came from the handset. McGrew could hear communications from various units moving into position for their rescue. A huge smile lit his face. "Momma Duck, this is Ugly Duckling."

"Where the hell are you, Ugly? What the hell is going on?"
"Some White Pine Aviation guys flying by picked us up, but they're low on fuel and can't deposit us back in the home nest. Where is rescue support so they can drop us to them? Can you comply?"

"Affirmative, Ugly. Air support is approaching that part of the city."

"Hey Momma, this is Famine of White Pine," Cowboy interrupted, "I see another beater rapidly approaching. Hey, Tinman, that you?"

"Famine," Tinman replied from the military Black Hawk over the radio. "Are you the one needing to drop your load?"

"That's us, man. We smoking our last fumes here."

"Tinman to Momma. Permission to retrieve personnel?"

"It's in your hands, Tinman. Momma out."

"Follow us, Famine. We need to get to a more secure area."

"Lead the way, cowpoke," Cowboy intoned and began singing 'Rawhide.'

McGrew started chuckling as he relaxed still holding the handset, listening to the pilots communicate. His eyes swept over his men again, even Reed looked like he was going to make it now.

Escobar returned McGrew's smile.

It was only two minutes and the helicopter began to descend to a deserted area outside town.

"Hey Tinman, we need to be landing soon if we're making it back to home base. This looks like a good place," Cowboy called to the Black Hawk they were following.

McGrew could hear laughing from the military pilot.

"We'll be right back, Famine. We'll check out the area." The other helicopter quickly circled, then came back to where Famine landed. The camouflaged military helicopter settled close.

As the blades on the military Black Hawk began to slow, the Captain motioned for the squad to exit with the prisoner.
A crewman from the Army helicopter was already moving toward them.

The
pilot from each Black Hawk exited with smiles and greeted each other as the Captain approached.

With a huge
grin, McGrew loosened his helmet and reached out to the tall pilot from Famine. "Thanks for your timely rescue, Cowboy. I'm Captain Jake McGrew."

"Shore thing. Can't let the ol' Red, White, and Blue boys down." Cowboy shook hands as he glanced at his aircraft. The others looked too.

"That was a hell of a rescue," McGrew commended as he watched the two other crewmen from Famine. Stubbs hustled the prisoner to the military Black Hawk, while Rios and Hamilton worked on getting Reed out. Casey grabbed Reed's rifle then waited to help Escobar.

"Taint me, Captain," Cowboy said with a huge grin. His head bobbed to his aircraft. "The Ghost was flying this hunk o' junk."

Captain McGrew studied the pilot in full gear, including helmet and scarf, who was helping his men out. "The Ghost?"

Tinman started laughing. "Best pilot in this sand box, Captain. Now you see the Ghost, now you don't. The insurgents hate the Ghost."

McGrew smiled with Tinman, once again the Ghost had thwarted the insurgents. His eyes swung back to the White Pine pilot. "Kind of small for a pilot," he said, almost under his breath. Something about the shape of the pilot's body intrigued him.
The pilot couldn't be over five-six.
McGrew watched the pilot of Famine walk up.

Tinman smiled even bigger catching the intense look in McGrew's eye. "Yeah, but the Ghost is still the best, Captain."

McGrew's attention riveted on the pilot standing in front of him. The White Pine pilot was short, small framed and the walk was a little odd. The flight helmet and camouflage scarf, presumably to keep out sand and other things, hid the entire face. He caught big, brown eyes staring at him.

The look in the pilot's eyes made him uncomfortable. He had only seen that kind of intense stare in bars. And there was an electrical feeling in those eyes; he could feel it in his bones. He cleared his throat after a long second of mutual intensity and stuck out his hand. "On behalf of my men and myself, thanks for the timely rescue, Ghost."

The Ghost's eyes flicked to Cowboy then a smile cracked the brown eyes. The pilot shook his hand while the other hand pulled off the camouflage material. In a swift motion, off came the helmet. "Any time, Captain." Short, brown hair framed the smiling face.

McGrew's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Then he narrowed his eyes as he saw the smile get bigger on Ghost's face. "A woman!"

"God, I love getting that kind of reaction out of you military guys," Ghost replied as the other two pilots cracked up.

"How the hell can White Pine put a woman in this sort of environment?" McGrew asked, his hand swinging to the surrounding area, knowing that mercenary units were usually the 'fire first, ask questions later' type.

"Didn't matter what sex I was ten minutes ago, did it GI?" The Ghost's eyes turned hard.

"Do you know what will happen to you if you get caught, Miss Smarty Pants?"

"Of course. Dry it up, Cupcake," she said. "You men are all alike." She quickly put back on her helmet and cover scarf. "Don't tell too many people that a woman saved your ass. Bad for morale." She turned to Tinman. "Thanks for the pickup. Call sometime if you feel like losing at poker again."

Tinman laughed and shook her hand. "Never. I learned my lesson." He shook Cowboy's hand and waved at Gunner who was already climbing into the Black Hawk.

Ghost jogged back to the right side of the helicopter. Within seconds, the blades began spinning faster.

Cowboy pounded Captain McGrew on the back. "Keep makin' the home front proud." With a nod at Tinman, he hurried to the cockpit and climbed in. As it lifted off, he gave a half salute to the two men.

McGrew shaded his eyes from the dust kicked up by the wind vortices then turned to Tinman. "Nose art on a helicopter?"

The warrant officer gave a belly laugh. "Only her four has them, sir."

"The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?"

Tinman nodded and pointed to the quickly disappearing aircraft. "That was Famine. A black horse and rider holding the scales. Her Pave Hawk has a pale horse and rider
―"

"For Death?"

"Yes, sir. The Chinook that she uses has a red horse. Pestilence. And the executive one that ferries around big shots in White Pine has a small white horse with crown and a bow. War," Tinman said as they hurried to the military Black Hawk.

McGrew stopped and glanced back in the direction of the dot on the horizon.

Tinman stopped too and glanced with him.

"Is she really that good?"

"Best here in Iraq. Don't let her sex fool you. She's tougher than nails, sir." Tinman shook his head. "I wish I had half her talent."

"Why is she working for White Pine?"

"Rumor has it that she makes more in a month here than most of us in a year. Not to mention that she was military, but they wouldn't let her fly combat. Pissed her off. But that's only rumor. Personally, I think she gets off flying over here." Tinman shrugged at McGrew. "Just my thinking, sir."

McGrew nodded. "Attitude. She has attitude."

Tinman smiled at McGrew who was still looking behind them. "Yeah. That she does. And just so you know, she's also known as the Iceberg. Like ice under any pressure and…" He winked at McGrew. "No one can get her to warm up." Tinman climbed into the cockpit and watched as the Captain finally swung himself into the back.

McGrew stared off into space as the helicopter went airborne. "I like attitude."

***

"You're awfully quiet Megan."

"Why do all of those assholes have to be the same?" Megan asked as she flew back to White Pine compound. She sighed softly.

"I saw that look, Sweetheart. Did I see right? Was that a look of interest in those pretty brown eyes for a certain GI?"

"Me?"

"Yes you."

"Not me."

"Ah uh." Cowboy chuckled. "I ain't ever seen you this 'interested' before. Do I see a crack in the ol' Iceberg?"

"You know I hate that name."

Cowboy's chuckle increased almost to a laugh. "Yeah, I know. Hell must be freezin' over, Meg."

A snort was her answer.

Cowboy just laughed. "Megan, Megan, Megan. It's only natural. Hormones is hormones,
girl. Chemistry happens. Love at first sight kinda…"