Destiny's Woman

“Many are called, Akiva, but few can really answer the call. You’re one who can. My bet is on you…that you’ll pick up the reins of this mission and give it your heart and spirit. The light burns brightly in you, and your jaguar spirit guide from your great-great-grandmother is with you at all times. Jaguar people never flinch from what is racing toward them. We stand our ground, straight and tall, and we prepare ourselves for the assault coming our way. And deep inside us, Akiva, we know without a doubt that the light—the guardians on that other side of the veil—will protect us, work with us and help us to withstand the blows we’re bound to suffer.”

Akiva forced herself to straighten. She felt Maya’s warm, throbbing energy surrounding her, like a mother cradling her child lovingly to her breast. The sensation was so foreign to her that it left her a bit in shock—a good kind of shock. Though she’d hunted all her life, she’d never found such protection, such love and care until just now. Lifting her head, her eyes swimming with tears, she saw Maya’s softened features waver before her as she looked down at her in those moments out of time.

Speechless, Akiva could only absorb what Maya was giving her. She saw the compassion in her superior’s emerald eyes, and the gentle strength that had always emanated from her now filled Akiva. She was starved for such rich and caring emotions, absorbed them hungrily as they flowed through her, touching her wounded heart. Akiva had never talked to Maya of her own spiritual beliefs, or about her jaguar spirit guide, and she was stunned by the knowledge Maya possessed about her. Yet she felt no panic, because Maya had long ago proved that she could be trusted.

Gulping, Akiva forced back her tears as Maya smiled and then quietly moved away. As she stepped back, that warm, loving sensation began to ebb and dissolve, and Akiva grieved its loss. Maya had been energetically feeding her something she had looked for desperately all her life and believed never existed. But it did. Maya had given her hope. Hope that she would not always feel like a person left out on the hill, alone without help or support. For that was what vision quests were all about—facing nature and the spirit world alone, weaponless, vulnerable and open. Akiva never left herself vulnerable, never opened herself up to anyone. And yet, with her compassionate energy, Maya had just shown her that she, too, was deserving of nurturing, of care and protection.

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Akiva sat there for a long time in silence. Maya walked around her desk, sat down and began to look for the set of orders in the piles of paper on her desk.

“A-all right, Maya. I’ll take the mission. All I can say is I’ll try.” She drew in a ragged breath as Maya lifted her head. For a moment, Akiva swore she saw the face of a black jaguar staring back at her with sun-gold eyes and huge ebony pupils. But as swiftly as she’d seen it, the apparition was gone. So much was occurring that Akiva couldn’t quite grasp it all. Something profound had just happened to her, and she knew it had to do with jaguar medicine and healing. Akiva’s own jaguar spirit had been given to her long ago. At the time, she had been told that one day she would be properly trained to know how to work with and utilize the vast, transforming power of the jaguar spirit. Right now, all Akiva received from her jaguar guardian was a keen intuition that helped her sense Kamovs. She sometimes would see apparitions, just as she’d seen the jaguar transpose over Maya’s face, but that was not often. And now, somehow, whatever energy Maya had transferred to her, was giving her the courage to take the mission—Joe Calhoun and all. A white man. Her enemy.

“Joe’s a good person,” Maya said, finally locating the orders. She reached for her pen in the pocket on the left arm of her uniform. “Try to see him as an individual, not as one of the men who hurt you. That is the vision quest you’re taking on, Akiva.” Maya scribbled her signature on the orders and handed them to Akiva. “Here, take these over to logistics, will you? They need to start getting this show on the road. You’re now the commanding officer of Black Jaguar Base Alpha—the first base outside the hub we’ve set up here in Peru. I have every faith that you’ll pull off this mission successfully.”

Rising, Akiva took the papers. Her heart was beating painfully in her breast. She wondered if she could grow into the job as Maya seemed to think she could. “I don’t want to disappoint you,” she rasped unsteadily.

“I don’t want you to disappoint yourself,” Maya whispered, and then gave her a crooked smile. “Learn to trust outside yourself, Akiva. Joe Calhoun is a good person. He’s no two-heart.”

Again Akiva winced. She’d never realized her C.O. knew so much about her people until now. Two-hearts were people who lied, cheated, manipulated or deceived others for their own selfish ends.

“I’ll try to hold that thought,” she said, half joking as she moved to the door and opened it. Outside, women were moving quietly up and down the hall of the second floor of H.Q., where the offices were located.

“It’s not going to be easy.”

Akiva lifted her head and stood proudly in the doorway, as much of her old spirit and strength infused her once again. “Nothing in my life has ever been easy. Why should this be any different?”

Grinning like a jaguar, Maya said, “That’s the spirit. That’s what I want to hear from you. Get out of here. I need you down in logistics to initiate this mission at 1030 today. Start packing.”

Akiva nodded, waving the orders in her hand. “I won’t let you down, Maya. I promise….”

As she turned and moved down the hallway, Akiva felt her whole reality begin to slowly disintegrate around her. How was she going to make this work? How was she going to stop herself from ripping off Calhoun’s head? How was she going to stop that violent, destructive anger she held toward all men?

Chapter 2

“Major Stevenson, I feel like a fox that’s been given access to the henhouse,” Joe Calhoun admitted, excitement in his deep Southern drawl as he sat in front of her desk. Joe had arrived promptly at 0930, unsure why the commanding officer wanted to see him. Now he knew: he was being offered a plum assignment to Black Jaguar Base Alpha. As executive officer, no less! For a U.S. Army chief warrant officer like him, this was an unheard of gift.

Warrant officers were in that gray area of army ranks—they were no longer enlisted, but weren’t full-fledged officers, either. They played an important role in the army, but were outcasts of a sort, accepted neither above nor below them. No one really appreciated what they did militarily, and yet without them, the army helicopter program would die.

Maya smiled. “You Texas boys have a language all your own, Chief Calhoun. But I’m glad you’re willing to give this black ops a whirl.”

He had a tough time sitting still in the dark green metal chair. “Yes, ma’am, I sure am.” Joe felt like he was in a dream. As a half-breed Comanche who’d grown up in Texas, he’d long been an outcast. Joe had had a hardscrabble life as a child, and been the victim of jeers and taunts throughout twelve years of school, where prejudice followed him mercilessly. He felt the army was giving him a chance to prove he was better than the names he’d been called, and he worked longer and harder than anyone else, trying to prove his self-worth.

All his life he’d been told he was worthless, except by his family, who loved him. That love had given him hope to cling to when things got bad at school. Joe worked hard at never making a mistake, because to make one, in his books, was the worst thing he could imagine. It would prove he was a “dumb redskin” who was too stupid to learn. He never told anyone of his heritage—ever. Now, as he sat there hearing words he’d never thought possible, it seemed as if all his hard work was going to pay off—he was going to be X.O. of a base! That was mind-blowing to Joe. He could barely sit still because of the happiness exploding through him. Finally, someone was going to give him a chance to prove himself!

“Now…can you tell me a little of how the night ops training went between you and Chief Redtail?”

Furrowing his brows, Joe avoided the C.O.’s penetrating gaze. Clearing his throat, he opened his large, square hands. “Ma’am, she caught on the quickest of all the pilots when we trained her on the night scope we wear on our helmet to see in the dark.”

Smiling to herself, Maya continued to hold his candid gaze. Just as she’d thought, Joe Calhoun—who had seemed from the start to be a throwback to a kinder, gentler time when women were put on pedestals and treated like ladies—was showing his warm, amicable nature. Maya had seen Calhoun’s carefully written reports on the women pilots he’d trained. Oh, he’d been specific about weaknesses and strengths in night ops activities, but nary a word had been said about possible personal problems between himself and Akiva Redtail.

“Joe,” Maya said, her voice ringing with authority, “it’s very important for me to get the gist of the chemistry between you and Chief Redtail. After all, she’s going to be your C.O. at this new base. I have more than a passing interest in how you two might get along.” Maya’s mouth twisted wryly. “There’s a great Texas saying I heard from one of my pilots, who was born there—‘you don’t drop your gun to hug a grizzly bear.’”

Maya’s meaning wasn’t lost on Joe. Shifting uncomfortably in the chair, he rubbed his sweaty palms on his jungle-fatigue pants. “Yes, ma’am, I’m familiar with the phrase.”

“Good.” Maya pinned him with her narrowed gaze. “So, does it clarify the relationship between you and Chief Redtail?”

Joe pushed his long, thick fingers through his short black hair, as he did whenever he was nervous. There was a lock that always rebelled and dipped across his brow. Nervously, he pushed it back. “Ma’am, with all due respect, I really admire Chief Redtail. She’s the best combat pilot you’ve got here at Black Jaguar Base, in my opinion.”

Maya heard the respect and admiration in Calhoun’s soft drawl, but she also saw his struggle to remain positive. Maya knew it was important to get all the cards laid out on the table, to have all the possible problems addressed now—not later, when they were in Mexico, fighting like two cats in a dogfight. Joe’s easygoing Texas style made it hard for Maya to think that even Akiva’s acidic temper could rile this good ole boy. Joe had, in her assessment, the patience of Job. He was infinitely tolerant, which would well work for him in this upcoming project, as Akiva was none of those things. Maya hoped Joe could provide the necessary balance to make this operation successful.

“I’m in agreement with you, Chief Calhoun, about Akiva’s skills. She’s the best we’ve got, which is one reason we’re earmarking her for this mission. The other is that in your reports on the pilots, she scored consistently highest on night-scope trials with the Apache. We are in need of two pilots, the best two, because a lot of missions are going to be at night, out over the Gulf. You know as well as I do that flying over a large expanse of water poses potential problems with pilot disorientation. And flying at night, with the scope, is twice as tricky.”

Nodding, Joe saw her expression remain hard. He could feel the C.O. casting around for something, and he knew what it was. Joe just didn’t want to give it to her. He didn’t want to paint Akiva in a bad light. It wasn’t his nature to talk negatively of people; rather, he was always upbeat and positive about their strengths, never shooting them down for what they didn’t do right, or what their weaknesses were.

God knew, he had his own set of problems to work on, and he wouldn’t appreciate someone disemboweling him in public. His father, who was full-blood Comanche, had taught him to speak well of a person, that if he did so, energy would come back tenfold to him as a result. It was easy to eviscerate people, to tear them apart verbally, to shame or humiliate them. Joe had found that out early in his life. And he didn’t ever want what had happened to him at school, to happen to others. The stubborn part of him, which was considerable when tapped, was rising to the surface as Major Stevenson continued to stare at him.

He felt like she was looking inside him and reading his mind. Lips pursed, he waited. What did she want? Why did she want to hear that Akiva Redtail practically hated the ground he walked on? Joe had never figured out why, exactly, Akiva disliked him so openly; he had chalked it up to a clash of personalities. Given his easygoing nature, he let her venomous comments and glares slide off him like water off a duck’s back, and he didn’t take it personally. At least, he tried not to….

“How do you feel toward Chief Redtail?” Maya asked in a low tone.

Brightening, Joe grinned. “She’s an incredible combat pilot, ma’am. I really enjoyed teaching her the upgrade on the night optics. She was a pleasure to work with.” Joe was, in fact, very drawn to Akiva, but she sure didn’t like him, so he kept his desire for her to himself.

“So—” Maya fiddled with the pen in her fingertips and frowned down at it “—you have no problem going on this mission with her?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t.”

“Not one problem, Chief?”

Joe shook his head. “No, ma’am. She’s all guts and glory, as we say in the trade. She’s already bagged a Russian Kamov. And she’s aggressive. That’s what it takes out there—we both know that. I’m looking forward to being her back seat, to tell you the truth. I can learn plenty from her.”

Smiling thinly, Maya raised her head and stopped thumping the pen against the desk. Joe’s expression was so damned easy to read. The guy hid nothing in that square face of his. His gray eyes were wide and earnest. “I don’t think it’s telling any stories out of school, Chief, that Akiva rides roughshod on some people.” Mainly white, Anglo men, but Maya swallowed those words.

Shrugging, Joe said, “I think most combat pilots are perfectionists, ma’am, and they get sour milk real fast when things aren’t right. Their lives depend upon the equipment workin’ constantly and the crew doin’ their job like they’re supposed to do. I don’t fault her on that in the least. Do you?”

Maya smiled to herself, liking Joe’s ability to stress the positive. “I agree with you, Chief.” Still, Akiva would wear him down, and Maya wondered how thick Joe’s hide really was. How long could he handle her acidic responses to him before he reared up on his hind legs and fought back? That was the fly in the ointment on this mission. It all hinged on Joe’s patient, plodding personality, his ability to get along with her, no matter what.

“Ma’am, I feel you’re like a huntin’ dog sniffin’ around for a bone of contention or somethin’ here. Are you worried about me bein’ able to get along with Chief Redtail?”

“I’m not concerned about you getting along with her,” Maya said drolly. “It’s the other way around. Akiva has a lot of knives in her drawer, and she’s real good at pullin’ them out and slicing and dicing, Chief. I just don’t want you to be chopped up by her when she gets in one of those moods, is all. And I think you know what I’m talkin’ about?”

Joe’s mouth curved into a friendly smile. “My daddy always said that makin’ it in life is like busting mustangs, ma’am. You’re gonna get thrown a lot. You gotta expect it. But the key is you get back up, dust yourself off and get right back in the saddle again.”

“Well,” Maya said with a chuckle, “that about says it all when it comes to interfacing with Akiva. She’s got some…weaknesses, Chief Calhoun. And it’s my job to make damn sure you know them going into this black ops, so you’re not surprised at the other end.”

“Okay,” Joe said, stymied. What problems? Akiva had a strong personality, one he admired, but he never considered her penchant for thoroughness and perfectionism to be a problem. It took a strong man or woman to be a combat pilot—that was part of the required package. And he had no problem with strong, confident women. So what was the major hinting at here? Granted, Joe had been at the base only a couple of months and didn’t run into Akiva every day, although he wished, on a personal level, he did. Just getting to look at her tall, proud, powerful figure and those penetrating gold eyes of hers made his heart pound with silent need. But this was a busy place, and the training was grueling and ongoing. Joe had his hands full as an instructor pilot on the night optic upgrade training missions, so rarely saw Akiva.

“We have another sayin’ in Texas, Major—‘Never grumble, it makes you about as welcome as a rattlesnake in camp.’”

“Hmm, I see. Well, you need to know that Chief Redtail isn’t all sweetness and light. She’s going to need your help and I’m going to need you to roll with a lot of punches she’s more than likely to throw your way. Don’t take them personally, Chief Calhoun. If the heat in the kitchen gets to be a little much, sit her down with your diplomatic, good ole boy style and talk it out. Akiva can be reasoned with.”