Kevin Miller - Declared Hostile

Coach, lounging next to him, could have had the redhead, but he had bagged out. Fine, head on back, loser. And now Coach wanted the details. As Trench relived the night, many of them were fuzzy — and he couldn’t remember much anyway. He remembered the girls were completely blotto and literally bounced off the walls in silly hysterics in the early evening, but were mercifully still passed out when he slipped out in the morning. After the ouzo shots, however, he wasn’t sure about all that had happened— Did I do it with both of them? — and he didn’t like it. His head was still throbbing, and lying out in the sun wasn’t helping, but in his image-is-everything world he had to show the JOs what a stud he was, 24/7. Even to all-talk-and-no-action Coach.

“What do you want to do today?” Coach asked.

“I dunno… Dry out. Go back to the ship. Get a sunburn. Get laid.”

“In that order?”

Trench took a swig of water. “You had your chance, man.”

Coach said nothing. The other squadron pilots were playing water volleyball in the pool, which was lined with tourists sunning themselves in lounge chairs.

Trench noticed Macho come into the pool area from the jungle path. “Oh, shit,” he groaned. “Here comes Nurse Ratched .” Behind her was a girl, tall and trim… and Macho was talking to her! Together they walked up to the group of Firebird pilots poolside, and it appeared Macho was introducing the girl to them. She shook hands with each one.

Trench propped himself up on his elbows to see better. “You gotta be shittin’ me,” he muttered.

Coach was watching, too. “You think that’s the new guy?” They observed her for a few moments: long legs, flowing dark hair, and then a shot of the goods once she removed her beach cover-up.

“Whoo, baby,” Trench answered, a small smile forming on his lips.

Shane was excited to meet her new squadronmates. She just knew Tiffany was going to be her new BFF, and meeting these fleet aviators wasn’t as bad as they said it would be at Intel Officer school. They seemed nice, and clearly Commander Wilson was an inspirational leader. And surrounding them was a tropical paradise the like of which she only seen in the movies. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother.

“You ‘girls’ done with volleyball?” Macho asked the men.

“Just waiting to thump you,” Irish said in retort. “Let’s go!”

Macho whipped off her t-shirt and jumped in the water, while Irish smiled at Shane. “C’mon, Fung , you’re on our team!”

Shane looked about, nervous. Fearful of showing too much at this first meeting, she should have insisted on remaining at the condo. Boys looked at her body differently than they did other girls, had since middle school. She couldn’t help her height or what God gave her. Yes, her girlfriends always said, you are blessed , but there are worse problems for a girl to have. Shane Duncan, though, wanted to be known for her professional ability, and this first impression was not the one she had wanted to make.

“New guy, you in the squadron or not?” Irish persisted. From the water Macho looked at her quizzically, as if to say, What’s your problem?

Now sensing the eyes of everyone at the pool on her, Shane whispered to herself, “Let’s get this over with.” She quickly unbuttoned her cover-up and removed it. The black one-piece suit was at least sensible, and she kept her arms drawn in as she gingerly slid into the pool. She waded to the net on Irish’s team as two more guys joined them in the water.

“Macho, is this the new guy?” Trench asked with a friendly smile, looking eye-to-eye at VFA-16’s newest officer.

Macho’s plan was working. “Yeah, this is Shane Duncan. Shane, this is Mark ‘Trench’ Jones and John ‘Coach’ Madden.”

“Hi, sir,” Shane replied with a shy smile as she extended her hand awkwardly.

“Welcome aboard, Fung , and cut the ‘sir’ crap. We’re all JOs. You know what you’re doing, here?”

Shane nodded. He was cute, they all were. And Mark— Trench— was paying attention to her. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. She could relax with her new squadronmates.

The game commenced, and Shane kept missing the action as Trench took the shots whenever the ball came their way. Soon, though, the ball came to her, and she needed to jump up and hit it.

Trench’s body crashed into her hard, knocking her down with a splash. She immediately felt his arm around her waist, pulling her up.

“Whoa, sorry, new guy!” Trench apologized as he released her and backed off.

“C’mon, Fung,” Macho chided her. “That was your shot!”

Shane smiled and got ready for the next serve. What fun! Everyone was so friendly and welcoming, smiling at her, embracing her, right off, as one of the group. Tiffany was right, the guys were so friendly and nice, like big brothers, their hands helping to steady her when she was off balance. Within minutes she felt protected by them. Playing pool volleyball with her new squadron friends in this tropical paradise was like living a dream. She found herself beaming as the water ran down her face and a dozen wet and friendly faces smiled back at her. Her grandfather had told her of the “work hard, play hard” culture of the Navy, and the play hard part was off to a great start. The Firebirds seemed to accept her for who she was, their new Intelligence Officer who would make them better aviators.

Next to her, with one eye on the game and one on Shane, Trench got his second wind like no hangover remedy could have done. Fate had delivered this dripping centerfold model practically into his lap! He would nail her by the time they returned to Norfolk, and he would make sure he was the first.

Trench then noticed the girls from last night had arranged their towels on the poolside lounge chairs and were taking furtive glances at him. They seemed miffed that he was not coming right over to join them, or at least to acknowledge them. They were no worse for wear he figured, and would probably snag some other guy tonight. He had duty back at the ship anyway, and the two coeds, together, couldn’t compete with the smoking hot six-foot juggernaut next to him. He’d say goodbye of course, being a gentleman and all. He might even buy them a drink before departing for the sea and disappearing into their clouded memories.

Meagan is the redhead, and… Oh, what’s the other girl’s name?

The shrill sound of the bo’sun pipe over the 1MC sounded throughout the ship: “Ta-Weeeet… Underway. Shift colors.”

From his ready room chair Wilson glanced at the PLAT image of the flight deck and noted the time: 0905. Coral Sea ’s anchor was up and soon they would be heading southwest into the central Caribbean. On the black-and-white television screen he could see the rugged shore of St. Thomas, and reflected the port visit had been fun and was over too soon, as all port visits were. The JOs had done a good job on the admin and seemed to welcome Ensign Duncan all right. No surprise there; she was friendly, pleasant… and gorgeous. He already had heard some of them refer to her as Wonder Woman , and he knew he needed to keep an eye on Trench and Coach.

“When’s the meeting again?” Annie asked from her chair.

“Zero nine-thirty,” Wilson answered. “All COs and XOs, and COs from the strike group ships. Guess our advanced training cruise just got changed.”

“What do you think’s going on? Venezuela?”