His Duty to Protect

“Oh, God,” Emma whispered, frowning. “Not only is Hamilton CO, but he’s the IP? Instructor pilot?”

“It’s like the universe has it in for me. Not only do I get to live with this bastard for the next six months, he has to qualify me in the CH-47. How’s that for double jeopardy? I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure a way out of this.”

“Can you get out of it?”

With a shake of her head, Rachel sighed. “Major Klein made it clear that if I want to fly the Apache when it arrives in six months, I have to sit my butt in that CH-47 and do the duty. If I refuse to fly a transport, then I’ll be shipped out to another Apache squadron. You know how important it is that women fly together. You’ve done it. There’s a camaraderie between us that no male squadron will ever have. I love it here, Emma. I don’t want to give that up.”

Gripping her cousin’s slumped shoulder, Emma said soothingly, “Hey, I understand. I loved flying with the Black Jaguar Squadron in Peru and then here. We’re making history. We’re showing everyone that a group of women can do as well as any male squadron or mixed squadron.”

“That’s the other problem,” Rachel warned her. “Hamilton’s squadron is all men. Then all of a sudden, he’s getting four female Apache drivers thrown into the mix. Because he hates women and loves spreading his crap that we’re not cut out for flying or war, this is going to be a nightmare for all of us.”

“How are the other gals taking the assignment?”

“Better than I am. But they don’t have the past history with Hamilton like I do. They were in other training outfits, not mine.”

“This sucks, dude,” Emma agreed, placing her hands in her lap. “Could you use some interesting news that Khalid got wind of the other day?”

Rachel perked up. “Sure. What has he heard?”

Emma leaned forward. “You have to keep this top secret.”

“Oh, I will,” Rachel promised, seeing the glint in her cousin’s eyes. “Whatever it is, it’s big!”

Laughing a little, Emma said, “Oh, it’s an eye-knocker-outer.”

“What? Tell me!”

Emma grinned. “There’s a new Black Jaguar group forming under Colonel Maya Stevens. Khalid has been working with Maya and her husband, Dane, who were both assigned to the Pentagon. Maya was the creator of the original BJS, and she showed the boys in the Army how to use the Apache to stop the drug runners in Peru.”

“Oh, she’s famous for that. She’s the bedrock of the BJS,” Rachel enthused, excited. “But what is this new BJS squadron?”

“Not a flight squadron.” Emma’s eyes glinted. “It’s a U.S. Marine initiative. They’ve asked her and Dane to head up a group of women volunteers from the five military services who will have boots on the ground. They’re specialists in language and Afghan culture. Their job is to be put in individual Marine deployment squadrons that are coming here.”

Confused, Rachel said, “Women in combat?”

“Yes, with a particular mission. They’re in training with the Marines right now at Camp Pendleton. Come October, they’re going to arrive here, at Bravo Camp. This will be their HQ. Maya will head it up because she knows how to integrate women into all male elements. It’s not flying but Maya will also be working with transport squadrons here, as well as Apache deployment.”

Rachel gasped at the information. “My God, it’s really happening. These women are being trained for combat roles among the Marine squadrons?”

“Yes. There will be one woman per assigned Marine squad out in the country working with villages and elders. There’s a whole new effort to win hearts and minds here. And Maya was arguing this right up to the halls of Congress. She told the senators in a closed-door session that if they used women who spoke the language and worked with the wives of the elders in a given village, that more loyalty, more contact and far more information would be shared.” Emma grinned. “You know how women talk to one another. These women are being trained as paramedics, too. They’ll be able to give vaccinations, treat the children, wives and female elders of the village.”

“What a brilliant idea!” Rachel said, amazed and excited. “Brilliant!”

“Khalid has been friends with Maya and Dane for years, so he got the inside scoop. Don’t breathe a word of this. The fun part is that you will be interfacing with BJS ground troops because you’ll be flying the Marine squads out with these women. Maya felt that having an all-woman BJS squadron here already would help give these ground-troop women the support they need.”

“Is the Marine Corps happy about this?” Rachel wondered.

“For the most part, yes. But you know the Marines—only a man can fight. There’s a lot of resentment among some of them, but Dane is working with the sergeants who command these squadrons. There’s no room for prejudice out on the ground. All you care about is that the person next to you, regardless of whether they are male or female, can shoot and kill.”

“And these women are volunteers?”

“Yes, all five services are represented, even the Coast Guard.”

“And they’re enlisted?”

“Yes. Maya and Dane chose from among all the volunteers. These are women with at least four years in the military. They are the cream of the crop. This idea was put into overdrive almost a year ago. These women had to learn an Afghan language, complete paramedic training and then go to Camp Pendleton in California to become rifle qualified. They’re the whole package.”

“That is incredible,” Rachel whispered. She saw the happiness glowing in Emma’s face. “Leave it to Maya to break down more doors. While the squad leader is dealing with the male elders, the woman soldier can be talking to the elder’s wife. I’ll lay you ten to one she’ll get more info from that wife than the sergeant or lieutenant ever will from the man.”

Nodding, Emma said with a grin, “That’s exactly what Maya is counting on.”

“Wow,” Rachel murmured. “Does Major Klein know about this? She must. She was Maya’s executive officer down in Peru.”

“Oh, she sure does. Dallas is excited about it, too. She’s gung ho on the whole BJS ground program.”

“They’ll be together again like they were in Peru. That’s kismet, because we both know they were a successful team down there in stopping drug cartels from getting cocaine out of Peru. The Pentagon, the Chief of Staff know that when Maya and Dallas were a pair, things got done right.”

“And their past history and record probably enabled this program to go forward.”

“Absolutely,” Emma said. She rubbed her hands together and added, “Kick butt, take names.”

Laughing, Rachel felt some of her depression lift. Emma was always the positive one. No matter what life had thrown at her, she made mud pies out of the mud. She never let something bad, like the loss of sensation in two fingers of her left hand, stop her. The Army might have discharged her for that, but being married to Khalid had brought her right back here. Reaching out, Rachel gripped Emma’s hand for a moment, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Listen, you need to get square with Hamilton.” Emma released her hand, her voice lowered with concern. “When do you have to see him?”

“Today.” She looked down at her watch on her right wrist. “Matter of fact, at 1400 I have to officially get inducted into his CH-47 squadron.”

“Ugh. Not only is he your CO, he’s your flight instructor.”

“How lucky can a girl get, right?”

Emma shook her head. “Well, we know that life is never fair, but this sucks. Will you be okay, Rachel?”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking around the tent that had been her life with BJS. “I have such anger toward him. It just bubbles up and it surprises even me. I didn’t know how much I hated him until he showed up at the dispensary yesterday. Everything, and I mean everything, came back from my flight school days. I was so surprised at how cold and angry I was.”

“How are you going to deal with it? Because the Army doesn’t much like it when personal stuff gets in the way of your duties.”

“I’ll conduct myself as an officer and work to be neutral toward him.”

“You can’t afford to flunk out on flying the CH-47.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t. I’m keeping my eye on the prize—in six months, I’ll be rotated back to BJS and I’ll strap an Apache on my ass again.” Rachel gave her a twisted grin. “I have my priorities straight, believe me. I might hate him, but I’ll be all business in the cockpit.”

“That’s going to be so hard,” Emma said.

Rachel shrugged. “I’m thirty years old. I’ve been around the block. I guess it’s my time to suck it up, see it for what it is—a test.”

Emma chuckled. “Spoken like a true Trayhern.”