Firstborn. Lindsay McKenna

Firstborn - Lindsay McKenna


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Morgan started a supersecret agency known as Perseus, which works closely with the CIA. His expertise has been focused on helping people around the world when the country in question can’t or won’t handle the problem. Suffice it to say, Mr. Trayhern has worked with every U.S. military service, and continues to do so to this day. I’ve met the man myself, and he is a true hero. He’s someone the military does not want to let down if we can at all help it.”

      Hearing the awe in Dugan’s voice, Annie was impressed. “And his son is coming here? He’s being assigned to us?”

      Nodding, Dugan set his lips in a frown. “Yes.”

      “Then, sir, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you looking so unhappy about all of this?” If the son was anything like the father, Annie thought, he’d be a real asset. A hero in the making.

      “Because, Annie,” Dugan replied, looking at her across the desk, “the two Trayherns are nothing alike. Have you heard of Jason Trayhern?

      “Uh, no, sir.”

      “When he was a third-year cadet in the Naval Academy at Annapolis, he got enmeshed in a drug ring scandal. He was never found with drugs, but names of cadets who had purchased them were found on his laptop computer. The people who conducted the investigation at Annapolis think his roommate set up Trayhern to take the fall. Jason and his lawyer had said from the get-go that Trayhern was framed. But the cadets have this skewed honor code and they don’t rat on their brother or sister cadets. No one came forward in his defense, so they booted him out.”

      “Ouch. What must his family have felt like?” Annie murmured. “Or him, if he was innocent? I’d be really angry about it.”

      “Precisely. It was a black mark against the Trayhern military dynasty, a blemish of the worst sort.”

      “And he talked to the investigation officials?”

      “Yes, he did, but the ‘blue wall’ closed ranks—the cadets refused to give up the real culprits to clear Trayhern’s good name. If someone had come forward to vouch for him, more than likely Annapolis officials would have allowed him to stay, all things being equal.” Dugan opened his hands. “I know from talking with one of the admirals at the school that they really wanted to save the senior Trayhern from this kind of embarrassment. But his son was caught with the evidence on his laptop and couldn’t explain how it got there.”

      Shaking her head, Annie said, “Well, sir, we don’t know all the details.”

      “Yeah, that’s right.” Running his hand through his short blond hair, he added, “And that’s why I’ve chosen you, Annie, to deal with Trayhern. I need the most astute, intelligent pilot I have in my squadron to handle this mess coming our way.”

      Annie sat up straight. “The mess being Jason Trayhern?”

      “That’s a roger. We’re getting him dropped on us because he’s a loner, Annie. He’s not a team player. He’s said to be rebellious, angry and arrogant, from what Major Butler has told me. Two pilots in his regiment petitioned Butler to have Trayhern replaced, because the man simply refuses to get along with anyone else in the cockpit.”

      “Oh, sir…”

      “Sorry, Annie. You don’t deserve this kind of partner, either. I’m sorry we had to give Chief Mike Dailey a medical discharge. No one wished more than me that his high blood pressure problem could be resolved. You two were my ace team in the squadron, and I really hated to see him go. But we can’t have a pilot at risk in the cockpit, either. And now you’re the only one in the squadron without a copilot.”

      Annie thought back to earlier that morning, when the red-tailed hawk had screamed out for her attention. When she’d asked what message it brought, the exact feeling she had right now had blanketed her. She felt upset. In chaos.

      “So you’re assigning Chief Trayhern to me?”

      “Yes, I am, Annie.” Dugan shrugged. “Ordinarily, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, but the situation is unique. I know Morgan Trayhern personally. I’m sure that, as a father, he’s going through hell right now because his son has gotten booted out of two Apache squadrons in a year’s time. This boy of his is a real burr under the saddle—his and ours. I had a choice in whether or not to take Trayhern. I’m doing this as a favor to his father. We’re going to give Jason Trayhern one last chance.”

      Chewing on her lower lip, Annie sat there digesting the problem. “Sir, we’re slated to go over to Afghanistan in a month.”

      “I know that. And Annie, I know what you’re up against. If there’s anyone in my squadron who can turn this man around, it’s you. You’re the only woman pilot on base, and I know this sounds like gender prejudice, but maybe, just maybe, Trayhern won’t take the same arrogant tact he’s taken with other pilots he had to work with if he partners with a woman.”

      “And if I can’t get him to be a team player, sir?”

      “All you have to do is come to me and tell me.” Dugan shook his head. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. I don’t want to be the one to boot Morgan Trayhern’s son out of the military, and if that happens, no service will ever allow Jason to reenlist. He’d be out. Castigated. But if you come and tell me he’s not fitting in, then I will give him a bad conduct discharge without any qualms.”

      Annie found she had a hundred questions racing through her mind. Time was so short—only one month before combat duty. She knew it took at least three months for two pilots to get used to each other. They sat in the Apache together, flew together, worked together, and their relationship was like a marriage of sorts.

      “Sir? Has Chief Trayhern ever worked with a female pilot before?”

      Dugan smiled grimly. “No. As you know, there are only three women in the U.S. military who have qualified for Apache training thus far. That’s not counting the Black Ops squadron in South America, of course, which is nearly all female. He’s flown only with men.”

      “What makes you think he’s going to respond positively to me, then? If he’s never flown with a woman, how do we know how he’ll respond to me?”

      “That’s a good question,” Dugan murmured. “And I don’t have an answer, Annie. But I’ll tell you one thing—your marks listed in your personnel jacket, in flying and training, are 4.0. You’re the best I’ve got. Your crew has won every trophy in and out of the squadron, and I know it’s because of you, your ability to lead, as well as your ability to be a team player. You don’t leave people out or behind, Annie, and that’s the mark not only of a good leader, but of a real people manager.”

      She saw his hazel eyes brighten with hope. The praise was wonderful, but the assignment sucked. “I do try hard to make everyone feel a part of my tribe.” She grinned wryly.

      “There’s a lot to say for you being Native American, Annie. I’ve learned a thing or two from you myself. I’m convinced that what you’ve learned from being brought up in your community can help us here in the Army, too. Teamwork is everything. I’ve seen you take people who felt disenfranchised and make them a valuable part of your squadron ‘family.’” He smiled again. “And if Jason Trayhern is to have a prayer of learning how to fit in, I can’t think of anyone better than you to be his teacher.”

      The responsibility was nearly overwhelming. Annie felt the weight settle on her shoulders. It was bad enough that she had to train hard and rigorously herself for the next month, to get ready for Afghanistan, where her life would be on the line every single day. Her copilot had to be someone she trusted with her life. How was she going to manage to do all of this?

      Looking up, she murmured, “Sir, this is an incredible challenge for me.”

      “I know it is, Annie. And I’m sorry to lay it on you. But no one is better qualified to save this young man from himself. He’s a fine pilot, but he’s a loner. Do your best, okay? I don’t expect miracles, and if it doesn’t pan out, it’s not going to reflect poorly on your personnel record,


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