His Woman in Command & Operations: Forbidden: His Woman in Command / Operation: Forbidden

Chapter 6

“This week, you’re assigned to the CH-47,” Emma Trayhern-Cantrell, the XO, told Nike as they sat together at an ops table. “You’re going to be bringing in supplies to several boundary villages. And we’re short on copilots, so you’re flying without one.”

“Thanks,” she told her XO. Nike nodded and tried to hide her disappointment. For a week, she’d flown the aggressive Apache and done her fair share of firing off rockets and rounds to protect A teams up in the mountains hunting Taliban. Because she loved the adrenaline rush, it was tough to be relegated to a lumbering workhorse instead.

Her XO handed her the list of villages along with the supplies to go to them and the times of delivery. Emma Trayhern was all business. She had the red hair of a Valkyrie with large gray eyes and a soft mouth. She had her uncle Morgan Trayhern’s eyes. However, Nike already knew that this Trayhern child was no pushover even if her face spoke of openness and compassion. Emma was an Apache pilot and as tough as they came.

“I know you’re bummed. CHs don’t rock.” Emma tried to smile. “There’s always dirty work along with the rockin’ Apache. You’re just lucky enough to have skills in the CH-47.”

“Yeah,” Nike said grumpily, folding up the orders. “I wish they’d give us another Apache or two.”

Shaking her head, Emma said, “They’re stretched to the max over in Iraq. We get the leftovers. It sucks, but it is what it is.”

“I’m not so philosophical,” Nike said, rising. It was near dawn, a red ribbon on the eastern horizon outside the ops hut. Already, the air base was in full swing and with plenty of action.

“You hear anything about your guy? Captain Jackson?”

Giving Emma a frown, Nike said, “He’s not my guy. How did that rumor get started?”

Grinning, Emma folded up the huge map and left it on the ops table. “Blame your load master, Andy.”

“Blabbermouth,” Nike muttered.

“We were expecting the Taliban to go down through that valley near Zor Barawul, but they didn’t. I told Dallas that I thought someone from the village probably sneaked off to tell them the A team was in town, so they took another trail into the country.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Nike said. She put the paper into the thigh pocket of her dark green flight suit. “When I was there overnight, there was a lot of wariness toward Americans.”

“Well,” Emma said, “you’ll be delivering the last load of the day to them. If you get a chance, stay on the ground for an hour and find out what’s going on. I like to get eyes and ears out there on those villages. Dallas wants to keep a check on them and whether they get slammed by the Taliban.”

“Good idea.” Nike wasn’t too sure she wanted to spend an hour on the ground to visit with Gavin. She saw the curiosity in Emma’s eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

“Do it at each stop, Nike. We want you to talk to the leader of each team and get their latest assessment.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, Nike thought as she put on her black BJS baseball cap. “Okay, will do,” she promised. “This is going to be more like a milk run.”

Emma walked her to the door. “I hope you’re right. But be careful. Those four villages are not on our side. Yet.”

“Getting food, medical personnel and medicine in to them on a regular basis will help,” Nike said, opening the door. The crisp air was barely above freezing. Nike would be glad when June came. Everyone said it got warmer at the beginning of that month. In the mountains at eight thousand feet, a local gardener told her that there was less than a ninety-day growing period. This made gardening tough, which was why most people had goats, chickens, sheep and few vegetables. Certainly, fruit was scarce, too.

Clapping her on the shoulder, Emma reminded her, “Be careful out there. Dallas does not want to lose any of her pilots.”

Grinning, Nike gave her a mock salute and said, “Oh, not to worry, XO. We’re a tough bunch of women.” She decided to swing by the base exchange and picked up four boxes of dates and four pounds of candy for the kids. Dates were a delicacy usually eaten only at the time of Ramadan. Poor villages couldn’t afford such a wonderful fruit and Nike wanted to give it to the wife of the chief of each village. The meaning of her exchange would go far with the women of the village to cement a positive connection. And the children would love the sweets. That made her smile because the Afghan children were beautiful, so full of life and laughter.

* * *

Gavin was surprised as hell to see Nike walking toward him from the helicopter. She’d covered her short, shining dark curls with a black baseball cap. He grinned, feeling his heart open up.

“Hey,” he called, “this is a pleasant surprise.”

Her lips tingled in anticipation. Nike could see the happiness burning in his blue eyes as he approached her. While part of her wanted to rush into Gavin’s arms, she halted a good six feet from him, hands on her hips. “Just dropping off supplies, a doctor and dentist, and getting the lay of the land and giving Jameela a box of dates as a goodwill gesture.”

Gavin sensed her unease but kept his smile. “Dates. That’s a great idea.” He added, “I missed you.”

Though wildly flattered, Nike couldn’t get on a personal footing with him. Lucky for them, there was all kinds of activity around the unloading of the helo. A number of men carried the cardboard boxes into the village. The doctor and dentist were led into a group of awaiting men and boys. “My boss wants me to spend an hour with you getting a sense of how things are going at the village. She’s compiling an ongoing dialogue with the generals above her on where each village stands.”

Raising his brows, Gavin said, “You ladies are on top of things.” He gestured for her to follow him. “Come on, we’ll go to the team house, have some chai and chat.”

Nike did not want to be alone with Gavin. He was too damned masculine. She wished for the thousandth time her traitorous body would stop clamoring for another kiss from him. Her mind was in charge and no way could she get involved again. Ever. “Okay, but this is business, Captain.”

“No problem,” Gavin said smoothly.

Walking at his shoulder, a good twelve inches between them, Nike said, “You never got that attack you were expecting. I’m glad.”

Gavin dodged the muddy ruts made by the continuous donkey-cart traffic through the village. “Yeah, we’re relieved. But suspicious.” The sun had warmed the village and children played in the late afternoon. Dogs ran around barking and chasing one another. Women in burkas were here and there, but mostly, they moved the window curtains aside to stare at them walking by.

Nike saw a number of barefoot children with mud up to their knees. She smiled a little. They were tough little kids in her opinion and yet, so huggable. She started handing out the bag of candy she carried in her hand. In no time, every child in the village surrounded them. Nike made sure each child, no matter how little, got a handful of jellybeans. When it was gone, they disappeared with their treasures. She turned to Gavin. “I’m glad for you it’s been quiet around here. Why do you think that happened?”

Gavin nodded as they sauntered toward the stone home on the left. “We think the Taliban got tipped off by someone here in the village and they decided to take other paths into the country.”

“But that doesn’t guarantee anything for long,” Nike said.

“True, but we’re making progress. Abbas is softening his stance toward us. He’s still worried the Taliban will see him consorting with us. And I think someone in the village was scared to death of the same thing, intercepted the Taliban and told them to take another track. That way, it would look like this village was still helping the Taliban. It’s a real balancing act out here for Abbas.” Gavin halted and gestured to a large mud-brick home. “Here we are. Come on in. I’m ready for some hot chai.”

Inside, the hard-packed earth had been swept. Everything was clean and neat. The men’s equipment stood up against the walls in neat rows. There was a stove in the corner with plenty of wood, the tin chimney rising up and out of the roof. The windows were clean and sunlight made the room almost bright, if not cheerful.

“Have a seat,” Gavin said, taking off his hat and putting his rifle nearby. He shrugged out of the dark brown tunic and then removed his body armor. “Feels good to get out of this thing,” he muttered. “I live in it almost twenty-four hours a day.”

“Armor is the pits,” Nike agreed. She saw several small rugs and pillows near the stove. Taking a seat on one, she watched as Gavin went through the motions of putting water in a copper kettle and then sitting it on top of the stove. Her heart pined for his arms around her, his mouth cherishing her lips. For now, she fought her desire, crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap.

“If your CO wants to know about this village,” Gavin said, pulling a tin of loose tea off a shelf, “tell her that we’ve got about a twenty-percent pro-American base here now. The men are starting to open up to us.”

“Is that all?” Nike pulled out a notebook and a pen from her left pocket.

Gavin filled the tea strainer and gave her a one-raised-eyebrow look. “Is that all? It’s only been a week. I think that’s pretty amazing.”

Jotting it down, Nike said, “I’ve brought a medical doctor and a dentist and hygienist with me. That ought to encourage a little more loyalty.”

He poured hot water into two tin mugs and then dipped in the strainer filled with loose tea. “If we could gain loyalty like that, all we’d have to do is hand out money and buy them off.”

“I understand.”

“Honey?”

“Yes, please.” She watched as he poured goat’s milk into the mixture and pulled another tin from the shelf. He ladled out a teaspoonful of golden honey into each cup. Another tin contained a spice mixture and he put a pinch into the steaming chai. There was something solid and steady about Gavin. He had a confidence born from experience in the field. Everything he did had a sureness to it. Nike realized that he was the kind of leader anyone could trust completely. That was just another reason to like him way too much.

Gavin brought over the steaming mug. “Chai for two,” he teased. He set his cup on the ground and brought up a small gold rug and pillow, sitting opposite her. “And I know Jameela’s chai rocks, but she isn’t about to give her secret recipe to anyone.” He chuckled.

“She gave it to me. I loved staying at her home. At the base I keep trying different chai mixtures to duplicate it, but so far, no luck.” Nike sipped the delicious chai. “Hey, this isn’t bad, Jackson.” She tried to relax, but being so close to him made her squirm endlessly. Not to mention Gavin seemed even more handsome with his long-sleeved cotton shirt and brown Afghan trousers. His beard, as always, was meticulously shaped and trimmed. Even his hair was longer in order to emulate the Afghan men’s hairstyle. His skin was so suntanned he could easily have passed for an Afghani.

“So, did you miss me?” he inquired with a wicked grin.

Nike refused to meet his eyes. Her hands tightened imperceptibly around the tin mug. “I didn’t have time.”

“Pity,” Gavin teased. He saw how uncomfortable Nike had become. Yet, her cheeks reddened and there had to be a reason for it. “Well,” he said conversationally, “I sure missed you.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“You know why, Gavin. I just can’t fall for another military man.”

“Oh, that’s right—you think I’ll die in combat.”

“There’s a damn good chance of that.”

“Well,” he pointed out, “look at you. You have an Apache strapped to your butt and you’re always a fair target for the Taliban, too.”

“That’s different.”

“How? A bullet is a bullet.”

“You’re infuriating. Were you on the debate team at your college?”

“Actually, a university. And yes, I was on the debate team for four years. I like arguing.” He flashed a smile even when revealing this nugget of truth.

“Of course you do.” Nike couldn’t help but smile back, all while trying to steady her racing heart. “Which university?”

“Princeton. Where did you get your degree?”

“The University of Athens.”

He gave her a warm look. “Congratulations.”

There was an uncomfortable pause and Nike could feel him warming up for some heady declaration. Why couldn’t this be a business meeting? Well, she knew why but just couldn’t face it.

Sipping his chai, he sighed. “I’ve dreamed about you every night. About our kiss.”

“That’s your problem.” Nike had to look away, until she realized she was being a coward.

“I don’t believe you mean that.” Gavin searched her narrowing gaze. “You’re scared, Nike. That doesn’t mean there isn’t something between us. I grant this is a lousy place to become aware of it. I’m interested in you for all the right reasons. And I know why you’re gun-shy. But can’t you give us a chance?”

His words were spoken so softly that Nike felt her heart bursting with need of him. This was a side to him she’d not been aware of until now. “I’ll bet you are a damned good used-car salesperson, too.”

Laughing heartily, Gavin finished off his chai, got to his feet and made a second cup for himself. “Thank you for the compliment. Frankly, I’d rather sell you on me.”

“I got that.” She sipped her chai and wanted to run away. The room became smaller and smaller and Nike felt trapped. Or maybe she was trapping herself.

“My team is coming back in a week to base camp,” he told her conversationally, sitting down once more. “We get two days off. I’d like to take you to Jalalabad, to a nice little restaurant I know about, and have dinner with you. How about it?”

“I don’t think so, Gavin.”

“Are you sure? I see some hesitation in your eyes.”

Setting the cup down next to her knee, Nike said, “I just can’t.”

Nodding, Gavin said nothing. His instincts were powerful and he knew she liked him. Just how much, he didn’t know. He’d tried to play fair and that hadn’t worked. Honesty wasn’t necessarily the best policy with Nike, who was jumpy and wary. While he understood her reasons, Gavin wasn’t about to back down. He watched as she drew out her notebook and pen once more.

“Ready for my village assessment?” he asked her. Instantly, he saw Nike’s face relax. So long as he remained on a professional, hands-off basis with her, she wasn’t distrusting.

“More than ready.” Nike looked at the watch on her wrist. “I have to lift off in thirty minutes.”

“No problem.” Gavin launched into the many details, names, events and places that he knew her CO would want. It was still an unadulterated pleasure to be with her. She was a feast for his eyes, balm for his heart and Gavin felt as if her presence pumped him full of life and hope again.

* * *

Nike just about ran out the door of the house when they were done. She did not want Gavin to trap and kiss her. If he ever kissed her again, she’d melt away in his arms, completely defenseless against his heated onslaught. Moving out into the late-afternoon sunshine, she saw that the shipment of boxes had been removed from the CH-47. Next, she visited Jameela at her home and gave her the box of dates. The woman nearly cried, threw her arms around Nike and hugged her.

“You are my sister,” Jameela whispered, wiping her eyes as she held the precious box of dates.

Feeling the warmth of true friendship, Nike reached out and squeezed her hand. “All women are sisters,” she told her with a grin.

Jameela nodded and understood exactly what Nike was saying. In this man’s world, ruled by men and where women were considered secondhand in every way, they needed to band together and support one another. “The next time you visit, you must have time to have chai with me,” Jameela said.

“Ah, I love your chai,” Nike said with a laugh. “And yes, if I get this mission again, I’ll ask my CO for a half hour more and we’ll sit and talk over chai.”

Bowing her head, Jameela’s eyes burned with warmth. “I would like that, my sister. Allah keep you safe.”

“Thank you,” Nike murmured, meaning it sincerely. “I can use all prayers.” She left the house and hurried down the muddy street. She wanted to do nothing more than get out of here and away from that man who drove her to distraction.

Nike ordered Andy into the helo to raise the ramp, and she settled into her right-hand seat. Just the act of putting on her helmet and running through the flight list before takeoff soothed her taut nerves. From time to time, Nike would give a quick glance out the window, looking for Gavin to show up. He had a way of quietly walking up to her so that she never heard him coming. Not today.

Within minutes, they were airborne. Some small part of her was disappointed that Gavin hadn’t come to see her lift off. Moving the heavy two-engine helo into the blue sky, Nike now had to focus on more important things—like surviving this flight back to base.

As she flew nap-of-the-earth throughout the region, she never took the same route twice. Consequently, the route through the mountains was always different and filled with unexpected new difficulties. Nike was glad for the challenge. It kept her mind—and her heart—off Gavin. Still, even as she flew, she wondered what would happen when he and his team came back to base for a two-day rest.

Chapter 7

Nike was halfway back to base when she got orders to turn around and head back to Zor Barawul. Stymied by the clipped radio message, she had no choice but to do so.

As she landed near dusk, the sun tipping the western mountains, she saw Gavin standing with Jameela and her daughter, Atefa. The whirling blades of her helicopter kicked up heavy clouds of dust.

By the time she got out of her harness and placed her helmet on the seat, Gavin was at the rear of the ramp.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“The medical doctor just approved Atefa to be flown to Kabul to be fitted for a prosthesis.” He grinned. “I called your base and asked that you return. Sorry to do this. I know it’s damn dangerous flying in and out of here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nike said, looking out the ramp door at Jameela, who stood with a protective arm around her young daughter. “Is Abbas in favor of this?”

“He is. That’s the best news.” He searched her face. “I’ve already talked to the CO of the base. We need to fly them in now and preparations are under way to give them a tent and food for the night. Tomorrow morning, the three of us will be flown to Kabul.”

“You’re coming along?” Her heart beat once to underscore that news.

“Yes. I’m leaving Sergeant Bailey in charge while I’m gone.”

“But…”

“The threat of attack here is always high,” Gavin said, reading her concern. “I’ve gotten permission from my superior to do this because they feel this particular village is essential in the fight against the Taliban.”

“And Jameela and Abbas trust you.” Nike nodded. “It makes sense.” She managed a slight smile. “Have you warned them about the rough ride and nap-of-the-earth flying we’ll be doing?”

“I have. What I want to do is get Jameela and her daughter strapped in behind you and I’ll ride shotgun in the copilot seat if that’s all right with you?”

Her smile turned devilish. “Sounds good to me. If I get shot you can take over flying.”

Gavin recognized her black humor and chuckled. “Right. I have a pair of gold-plated tin wings from a United flight attendant that makes me pilot material. Will that do?”

“You’re a piece of work, Jackson.”

“But you like me anyway, right?”

Seeing the glimmer of warmth in his eyes, Nike waved a hand at him and walked down the ramp. “There’s no way I’m answering that one.” She gestured for the pair to come forward. After giving Andy orders, she walked back into the bird. Gavin had passed her on the ramp, walking down to meet the twosome. Nike noticed most of the village had turned out to watch. She had to remind herself that these people, cut off from the outside world, hadn’t seen helicopters since the Russians tried to ransack their country decades earlier. The CH-47 was a curiosity among them, especially the younger children.

Jameela walked slowly and kept a hand on her curious daughter as they boarded the helicopter. Nike finished off her radio message to her base and then turned around. Lifting her hand, she waved hello to Jameela, who was draped in her black burka. Nike could only see her wider-than-usual eyes. The woman must not ever have flown in any type of aircraft. Feeling for her, Nike went back, knowing that a smile might make the woman feel more at ease.

As Jameela grabbed her hand, Nike said, “It’s okay, Jameela. Everything will be all right.” She leaned over and gave Atefa a hug. The little girl was dressed in her finest, most colorful robe, her black hair brushed to perfection. Atefa’s eyes shone with excitement.

Jameela gave the ramp door a desperate look and still gripped Nike’s hand.

“She’s scared to death,” Nike said to Gavin, who had come up behind her.