Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Jen

L aura and I were chatting, catching up as she gave me a tour of the base. It was evening now, just before sunset. The time of day where it wasn't exactly cool out, it just wasn't boiling hot. Despite the high mountains we flew over, MES was at a low elevation, which meant it was hotter here than at some of the other bases. Nighttime got rid of the scorching heat, but it was still summer, so it never cooled completely.

She led me through the Apache's Command Post, or CP, the area where you could find the Apache pilots who were on duty. Then through the Tactical Operations Center or TOC, the main radio room that coordinated all the aviation assets. After that she took me past the recreation area, and through to the maintenance hangar. The hangar was a large building that looked like a giant tent. It was big enough to fit two helicopters inside. There were toolboxes, hoists, cranes, and other equipment lined up neatly along the side walls.

Sitting in the middle of the hangar was a soldier duct taped to a swivel chair. My gait stuttered as I saw him, and I shot a questioning glance at Laura. She ignored me and walked up to him.

"So, if you can't find me in the CP or in the rec room, come out here," she said while inspecting the man. She tugged at the duct tape on his arms, looked at his hands and slowly spun him in the chair. "He's good, no circulation cutoff or anything."

I walked over to the soldier, he looked up from Laura to me with slight irritation but mostly resignation. "Laura," I said in disbelief, gesturing toward the man.

"Oh, sorry, I lost myself for a second there." She walked over and grabbed the man by the shoulders and spun him to face her. She patted his cheek, smiled at him big enough to have her dimples peeking out, then gave a gentle twist of his shoulders. He groaned as he spun in a circle. All I could do was stand with my mouth hanging open.

She turned back to me, "Anyway, let me show you where we put our gear."

"You're not seriously going to leave him like that?" I asked. I was so shocked I didn't really have the ability to elaborate on why we shouldn't leave others duct taped places.

Laura looked at him critically for a moment, then back at me. Her face was a mask of confusion. "I didn't tape him to the chair."

"That's not…that's not the point. We need to help him out of there."

"Absolutely not," she said, folding her arms under her breasts. Her face took on a decidedly defiant look.

"Why?" I asked, my arms still outstretched to the continually spinning man. To my surprise he looked at me like I was the crazy one. Even he seemed to think my suggestion was out of line and he was the one stuck to a chair.

"I don't know what he did to earn this, but I'm not going to be the one that lets him out early." She looked at him as he rotated around again. She glanced back at me. "Santos is a big boy, he can handle himself."

She stepped forward and grabbed my arm, pulling me away. "Come on, I'll show you where the lockers are."

I followed; I don't know why. I could have shaken her grip and cut the kid loose. But her nonchalance at the whole situation had me walking away with her. Santos didn't seem overly concerned either. When a man wrapped in duct tape looks at you like you're the unreasonable one, it sort of shakes reality for you.

I just hoped the Apache guys didn't include the other crews in their practical jokes. Not that I couldn't take a joke, but I wouldn't care to be taped to a chair. It was more likely I'd just get used to their pranks and come to find them funny. In time.

It was best to observe and figure out the way they did things here, while making as few waves as possible. Knowing what happened to the prior crew, but not why, the last thing I wanted was to cause more issues between our two communities.

We were about to step out of the hangar when six or seven more men came in, one of them naked. I froze in the doorway, eyes wide as the scene unfolded in front of me.

"Oh. I see. Yeah, we want to get out of here before it gets worse," Laura said, giving my arm a tug.

"That guy is naked," I said, stating the obvious, mouth hanging open.

"Where's the Birthday Boy?" they were shouting.

"Birthday, obviously. Yeah, let's go," Laura said. She was acting as though this were a common occurrence. As if guys wandering around the base bare assed was something that happened often.

"None of this makes sense. What…" I gestured back at the hanger. They had surrounded the kid, spinning him around, and laughing. The naked one was standing on a toolbox…helicoptering. My voice trailed off in surprise as the guy whipped his dick around.

What the hell is wrong with these guys?

Laura laughed at me. "Sweetie, these are Apache guys. They're... unfiltered. And borderline insane. They're free out here to be themselves fully...and that means you'll end up seeing some seriously weird shit. You may as well get used to this." We were nearly out the door.

"Unfiltered?" I squeaked.

"There's no women around to keep them in line. I mean, seriously, this place is dripping with testosterone." She looked at the ground and shuddered. "Even in the showers. Especially in the showers."

"Gross," I said, curling my lip as my brain conjured up a mental image of the showers. She started to lead me to the next area, but I grabbed her arm. I could hear them singing ‘Happy Birthday' behind me. I dared not look again. "What do you mean ‘no women'? What are we?" I asked, gesturing to her and then back at myself.

Laura laughed at me. "Welcome to deployment." She squared off with me. "Look, no one here is going to follow you into the showers or anything like that, but don't expect them to stop being themselves just because you sit down to pee."

" You sit down to pee."

"Yeah, true enough. Look, these men are killers. By necessity and definition. Being in charge of them and holding their respect, some basic femininity has to be sacrificed. It's much worse if you're around the Special Forces guys."

I thought about it, then wondered if that was actually accurate. Her explanation made sense, though. Back in the U.S. things were more civilized. Out here, there was less management and more boredom. And combat. No women to keep them in line, she had said. I'd never thought that idea through before.

She continued, "They have to blow off steam somehow. You can't work under this kind of stress, constantly attacking or being under attack, and not have a way to blow off steam. They can't drink or fuck the stress away, so instead they…" She let the sentence hang as she pointed over her shoulder. I finally dared a glance, the birthday boy had broken free, and now they were all wrestling. The naked one was in the middle, and everyone was desperately trying to put someone else near him. I scolded myself because I nearly laughed at the sight.

"This isn't stress relief, it's hazing."

"Maybe, but I keep a close eye on it to make sure it doesn't get out of hand. I had the same reaction you're having now when I first saw it. But I've also seen what happens when there's no outlet. Trust me, it can get a lot worse." Laura gave my shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. I saw something new in her eyes. Fear. For now, I'd take her word on all this. The seriousness in her face wasn't something I saw often.

She must have realized I sensed the change in her tone, because she perked back up, almost artificially happy. "Besides, if Santos didn't want to be duct taped to that chair, then he would have fought harder."

Whatever alternative thought had scared her was now buried under her ridiculous logic. We'd talk about the more serious things later. "I guess it makes sense. Whatever it takes to cope with what we do and see out here." I glanced over my shoulder. They were cutting the duct tape off his wrists now and helping him up off the ground. Maybe Laura was right…at least with this group. Stress relief. I shook my head in bemusement. It was going to be an interesting year.

"What do you do for your stress relief?" I asked her. "You fly and fight just as much as these guys."

"Have sex," she said, face a mask of seriousness. I choked on a laugh as she said it. "What?" she asked. "My husband is in 3 rd group Special Forces; he's stationed sixty miles west of here. He comes through at least once a month. Sometimes once a week. When I can, I take missions out to his FOB, too." At least they had it all figured out.

I hadn't thought about the fact that her husband was deployed at the same time. "Must be nice," I admitted, still trying to process the nightmare birthday party behind us.

"If you want to keep your sanity and not get all wound up, you'll do the same."

I stared at her in amazement. I couldn't just sleep my way through the base. Well...I could, but I wouldn't. It wasn't the kind of woman, or leader, I was. "What did they do to you? When did you start thinking like a guy?"

Without missing a beat, she took her hat off and flipped it upside down and showed me the inside. In the center a big dick was drawn in pink highlighter. "Got it when I got my first kill," she said, smiling. "Look, they even drew it in pink, cause it's still a girl's dick. Aren't they sweet?" She was proud, actually proud of the dick in her hat.

She had just said she had to give up some of her femininity. Being a woman and a combat pilot, the commander of other combat pilots, she must have given up more than a little femininity. My mission was to save lives, hers was to take them. She did so and held the respect of her men.

"Sleeping around, even for my own sanity, isn't really my thing."

She gave me a sharp look and came to a stop, putting her hands on her hips. "You could just pick one guy and sleep with him. You don't have to find a new one each night." Her smile grew wider. "Come on, how long has it been?"

I grimaced, looking away from her. "A bit," I admitted.

She gaped at me, her hands falling to her sides. "Please tell me that asshole Scott isn't the last guy you've slept with?"

Pasting an innocent expression on my face, I tried to hide the truth. It was pointless. She knew me too well.

"Are you kidding me, Jen?" She shook her head in disappointment. "You're supposed to jump into bed with another man after a bad break up like that. Wash the lousy sex right out of your mind with something better."

I all but choked on my laughter. "I didn't hear that rule."

"Well now that you know, I expect you to do something about it."

"I'll get right on that," I told her, tone dry as the desert surrounding us. I started walking again, leaving her to catch up. I thought about what Laura was telling me. She was going to be the clue I needed to fit in here. She'd managed to seamlessly integrate herself in with this group of men. Something I wanted for myself and my crew. There was no way for me to become my friend—Laura was a bit more outspoken and free than I was—but that didn't mean I couldn't adapt her methods for myself.

Sheppard immediately came to mind. He had known Scott for four seconds before knocking him to the ground. He didn't bother to learn Nick's name. Sheppard showed no respect to anyone outside of his circle. Something told me that even being inside his circle you'd have to fight to earn anything from that man. He didn't seem like the type to let anyone have a free pass. Yet Laura held his respect. I studied Laura for a moment.

I hadn't been in the country for a whole twenty-four hours yet and already I was lost. What the hell was she going to drop on me next? I had a lot of learning to do about the different aviation communities, and about managing stress in deployment. I didn't want to be the one inadvertently making an ass out of myself by stopping something that was just them having fun. The MEDEVAC unit was downright tame compared to these guys. I slowed my gait and let Laura catch up so she could finish the tour. Determination to figure out how to get our communities to co-exist peacefully had me listening intently to everything she had to say.