Eileen Nauman - Touch The Heavens

Everyone was meandering around, holding their perennial cups of coffee, textbooks placed dutifully in front of their desks, talking about the morning’s flights. Brodie saw Karen Barber bounce through the classroom door. Her hair was in ruffled disarray, her eyes sparkling and a smile on her lips. Wasn’t there always a quick smile for everyone from Barber? Often she would drop in to visit with Chris before class started and then disappear down the hall to her office.

Brodie roused himself, watching her like a cat ready to pounce on his next quarry. He checked to make sure Major Mark Hoffman, her boyfriend and also an instructor at TPS, was nowhere in sight. It wasn’t a secret that Karen and Mark were involved with each other, for they were often seen at the O’Club together after class. Brodie didn’t want to tangle with Hoffman because he might have to fly with him at some point. Getting Hoffman angry might also mean the naval officer would deliberately foul up a test flight that they had to pull together, making Brodie look bad. And he didn’t want any bad marks.

“Hey, Barber,” he called. His voice carried across the room, so that everyone automatically looked up from their conversations. “I’m surprised the Air Force lets any women work here at TPS. Everybody knows this is a man’s world over here.”

Karen looked up, stunned by his accusation. Brodie’s tone was both irritating and challenging. Her eyes widened. She swallowed, a myriad of answers forming in the back of her mind. Karen didn’t want trouble. But she couldn’t afford to allow the brash officer to get away with it, either. She was aware of all eyes upon her and felt heat racing upward from her neck into her face.

She forced herself to remain calm. “I’m not even going to respond to such a question, Captain. It doesn’t deserve an answer.”

Some of the men exchanged nervous glances then looked toward Brodie and Karen. Brodie grinned confidently. “How did you broads get assigned over here?”

“Hey, ease off,” Rondo warned under his breath, glancing around at his fellow classmates. A number of other officers were frowning at Brodie, others seemed shocked and still others waited to see the outcome of the confrontation.

Brodie forced a laugh, slapping Rondo on the back. “Hey! It’s okay! We’re just having a little fun here. Aren’t we, Barber? I mean, if you women want to be one of ‘us’ you have to learn to stand up and take some locker-room humor every once in a while.”

“Captain Brodie, why don’t you pick on someone your own size then?” Chris Mallory challenged, her voice cutting like a whip across the room.

There was an abrupt silence as Chris stepped into the room. She still had her helmet and oxygen mask tucked beneath her right arm, having just gotten off a flight. The dark green uniform made it obvious she was a woman even if she had no makeup on. Ebony-colored hair swirled around her shoulders, wispy bangs barely touching her knitted brows. Her violet eyes were narrowed with intensity as she glared over at Brodie. She walked in, her movements calculated to look at ease, as if she weren’t concerned with this meeting. She had heard the conversation as she walked in the door.

Brodie swung his gaze sharply to Mallory. Dropping his feet from the desk, he smiled like a cat finding a bigger mouse to torment. “What’s the matter, Captain, don’t you care for my humor?”

Chris halted, no more than three feet from where he lounged. Her nostrils were flared, her eyes flashing with leashed anger. “No, I don’t. I never did like bullies,” she returned in just as soft a tone. “I’m not about to let you say things like that about Captain Barber or myself.”

Brodie’s mouth thinned. His heart began a faster beat as anger surged through him. Mallory was exactly the same height as himself, and he felt a moment’s intimidation by her challenge. It was immediately replaced with a growing hate. “Do you always butt in where you’re not wanted?” he ground out.

“Brodie!” Rondo begged, getting up and coming over to stand between the two pilots. He smiled weakly at both of them. “Come on, ease off—both of you. It was just a little joke, Chris. Brodie, just tell Karen you’re sorry and we’ll call a truce. What do you say?”

Chris stared at Brodie. “You start something and I’ll finish it. We don’t have to put up with this kind of harassment from you.”

Rondo took a deliberate step between them, his voice hardening. “Both of you knock it off,” he growled quietly, giving them each a warning glare.

“I never apologize for anything I say,” Brodie snarled over at Chris. “Just watch your six, Mallory.”

Chris drew in a sharp breath. When one pilot warned another to watch his “six,” it was as close to throwing a punch as possible. Six was the rear position of any aircraft and was the most vulnerable area to be attacked and shot down from. “You bet I will.”

The room took a collective, silent sigh of relief. Knots of officers broke up immediately, and everyone found their assigned seats. Karen fled. Chris saw tears in her eyes. Damn Brodie, she thought angrily.

Turning to leave, Chris almost collided with Dan at the door. He gave her a strange look and watched as she walked toward the community locker room to stow her gear.

Dan ambled down the aisle, noticing the absence of noise. He felt a tenseness in the room. What had happened? Everyone was strangely quiet. His gaze slid over to Brodie and his clique on the other side of the room. Brodie looked like he was ready to kill someone. Pursing his lips, Dan went to the lectern and paged through the text. This was not the place to find out what had happened. Chris had murder written in her violet eyes. Taking a deep breath before beginning his lecture, Dan knew without a doubt the first verbal salvo had been lobbed. Now it was his job to find out who was involved and dress them down in private and stop it before it got out of hand.

“Chris,” Dan called as the pilots began to disperse for the day, “I want to see you in my office.”

Chris nodded. “Okay. Give me five minutes. I need a cup of coffee.”

“Five minutes,” he agreed. He saw Brodie’s head snap up when he had ordered Chris to his office. And Rondo looked almost as guilty, too. It bothered him that the whole class was still subdued by the end of the afternoon. Whatever had occurred was serious because it had adversely affected everyone. And in this school, confidence, positive outlook and an upbeat attitude was a must for each pilot. It was a grueling forty-six-week course that demanded the class work together as a unit in order to survive. Closing the notebook in one heavy motion, Dan picked it up, walking with slow deliberation to his office.

“Okay, what’s up?” he wanted to know as Chris entered his office and sat down in the only available chair. Dan sensed Chris’s tightly throttled anger. These days, he could see right through her, sensing her true feelings. Had it only been three weeks since meeting her? He roused himself, gently shutting off those warming thoughts and centering on untangling the present difficulty. He looked up at Chris. “Well?”

Chris sat there, relating the entire event. She glanced up at Dan.

“I’m not going to take this from anyone, Dan. And Karen shouldn’t have to take it, either. She’s not even vying for test-pilot status, and he’s picking on her. The Brodies of the world are nothing but—”

“Brodie is a macho jock. He was a hotshot lieutenant who made a reputation in F-4s during the closing days of the war.”

“There’s no war now,” she answered coldly. “If he tries it again, I’ll shoot him down.”

Dan’s mouth quirked upward. “I’d say you already singed his wing tips.”