An Honorable Woman. Lindsay McKenna
with a top secret contingent of Apache pilots working behind the lines to hunt down the Taliban.”
“They’re over there?”
Morgan nodded grimly. “Yes. But that piece of info goes nowhere.”
“Of course not, sir.”
“You should consider Morales as executive officer material, Cam. He’s twenty-five years old, and he’s been in the army for four years. He’s an ace helo pilot—he grew up flying with his dad. He speaks Spanish as fluently as you do. I believe, as does Major Stevenson, that he’ll be a key player in making this mission work, even though you’re in charge.”
“How so, sir?”
“Let’s put it delicately, Cam,” Morgan said, giving her a droll look. “The other two officers, both lieutenants with the Mexican Air Force, are…well, for lack of a better word, somewhat biased about women having a lead role. In the Mexican military, there are no women combat pilots.”
“These two Mexican pilots are supposed to be the cream of the crop,” Maya added. “At least, that’s what their general is telling us.”
Morgan pressed the button and their pictures were projected on the wall.
“Lieutenants Antonio Zaragoza and Luis Dominguez did okay at Fort Rucker and learned to fly the Apache,” Maya assured her.
“But,” Morgan warned, “these men come from a country where most women are still kept barefoot and pregnant. The only way they relate to females is as mothers and lovers.”
“Yeah,” Maya growled. “So you’ve got your work cut out for you, Cam. These two dudes are not going to want to accept you as C.O. or even listen to your wise counsel, no matter how much more experienced you are as a combat pilot.”
“I see….” Cam murmured. “And Warrant Morales? He’s been raised in a gender-neutral environment, where women are accepted in leadership roles?”
“Yes,” Morgan said. “Which is one of the many reasons Chief Morales was chosen for this duty. He isn’t aware of why he was chosen. He’ll find that out from you once you arrive at the base in Tijuana.”
“Yaqui Indians,” Maya told her, “have a matriarchal society, and women are considered equal to men. Morales has been steeped in a tradition where women are accepted as being just as strong, smart and effective as any male.”
“That’s good,” Cam said, relieved.
“You’re going to have your hands full,” Morgan warned her gravely. “These are green students who have just learned the basics of day and night flying techniques. They know nothing of interdiction duties, especially in the dark. That’s where you come in. We want you to build a schooling program around them, starting with day flights, and then working in night operations. We all know night flying is more dangerous, but unfortunately, the president of Mexico does not want Apaches flying around where people can see them. He’s afraid it will scare the populace.”
“So,” Maya said, pointing to the screen as a picture of high-desert terrain was shown, “during the day, you’re going to fly your boys into the hills along the Baja coastline and out over the Pacific. There’re plenty of mountains and hills for you to play hide ‘n seek in, to train them on the finer points of interdiction.”
“And then you’ll train them in on night interdiction, once they’ve got the basics and you’re confident of their skills,” Morgan said.
“So bottom line, I’m running an advanced interdiction flight school.”
“Yes,” Morgan said. “You’re going to create that template. And if you’re successful, we’ll take on other Mexican Air Force pilots, train them at Fort Rucker and then get them flying interdiction in their own country, instead of U.S. pilots always putting their lives on the line to do it.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Cam said. She was in awe that they’d choose her for such a mission. Still, fear threaded through her. Could she do it? She would have to. Never had Cam wanted anything more than this. It was a plum—a huge one. And if she was successful, Maya would surely forgive her past error….
Her C.O. was watching her with an assessing expression on her face, Cam noted. “It’s a wonderful opportunity,” Maya said, “but I think this is going to be the roughest mission you’ve ever agreed to, Cam. Those Mexican pilots aren’t going to sit still for your mother hen ways.” She smiled slightly. “You’re a nester, a nurturer by nature, Cam—you appear so warm and easygoing, even though inside there’s a jaguar. You’re just as competitive and cool as any of the other women pilots who fly the Apache, but you come across as soft. You can’t let that happen on this mission. Those pilots see soft and they’ll eat you alive.”
Nodding, Cam gulped and said, “I understand.”
“Down here,” Maya said, “we love your mother hen ways. You’re the one who makes chicken soup if one of us gets a cold or the flu. You’re the one who sits down and listens when someone has a problem and needs to talk it out. You have a natural instinct for caring for others.”
“Those are all good attributes in a leader,” Morgan said quietly. “But you lack the management skills, the firmness and decisiveness setting required in a leader. But you can develop those abilities.”
Nodding, Cam said, “I understand, sir. I’ll do my best to learn to be tough.”
“Well,” Maya said, cocking an eyebrow, “you won’t have much time or space to do it in, Cam. I’m hoping Morales will like you, side with you and act as a natural buffer between you and those two dudes who are going to rain hell on your head every day.” Her mouth quirked. “I’ve experienced more than my fair share of those redneck, good-ole-boy attitudes in the past. I don’t look forward to you cutting your teeth on them, but under the circumstances, they are the cloth we have to work with. That’s the way it is.”
“I’ll handle it, Maya. I swear I will.”
“Oh,” Morgan said, chuckling, “you’ll be swearing, all right. Apache pilots aren’t the tamest people to begin with. They’re edgy, alert, tense and combative by nature. We’re all hoping that Chief Morales will be the great leveler here between you and the others.”
“Because,” Maya predicted grimly, “if he isn’t, it’s going to be three to one—them against you—and this mission could grind to a halt in a hurry.”
“I won’t let it happen,” Cam promised fervently. She gave them a grateful look. “I know it’s going to be a challenge. But I know I can do it. Just let me have the chance….”
“You’ve got the chance,” Morgan murmured. He flipped off the projection program and shut down the laptop. Walking to the other end of the table, he picked up an object and handed it to Cam.
“This is going to be your most precious possession, Cam. It’s an iridium satellite cell phone. There are sixteen satellites circling the globe, and this phone is hooked up to them. You can call from anywhere in the world and reach someone at the other end.”
Cam examined the slender but heavy device. “Okay…”
Maya got up. “The iridium is a very expensive toy, but one you’re going to need.”
Cam looked up in confusion as Maya came and stood in front of her, with Morgan at her shoulder. “Why?”
“Because if you need help, you can call Morgan or myself. We suspect you’re going to need advice from time to time, and with that phone you can reach us.”
“Good leaders ask for help when they get their backs to the wall,” Morgan told her. “Good leaders are forged in the fires of hell, they aren’t born. You’ve not had the privilege of college level management courses, Cam. We’re throwing you into this mission without any background education. Being a good pilot is one thing. Being a leader is a whole other ball game.”