Chapter 8

8

DEAN

I sipped my coffee, staring out into the backyard of the duplex I secured for my base housing. It wasn't quite as nice as the house Margaret took, and I had enjoyed nicer places, but this would do.

The backyard was plain, with a fence separating the space from the neighbor's yard. It wasn't much of a view, but it had potential. Maybe I'd set up a grill out there, something to occupy my time when I wasn't at work.

I took another sip, savoring the taste. The coffee was strong and bitter, just how I liked it.

I turned my attention back inside to the sparsely decorated living room. The furniture was new. Margaret got all the furniture in the divorce as well. The cream-colored couches were comfortable enough. I didn't really care. I wasn't looking at this as a long-term installment. I had to get Sarah off on the right foot and then I was moving on.

I put my empty mug in the sink, another bit of new. New dishes. New bed linens. I was starting over, which was what I wanted. Mostly.

I headed toward the colonel's office. Despite the years that had passed since I last set foot here, it all felt very much the same. Excitable pilots in training hurried past me, their enthusiasm palpable as they rushed to classes and assignments. Another group was in the middle of PT.

I brushed past a group outside the campus. They handed out flyers and tried to rally interest in their groups. I had little interest in their endeavors, my focus squarely set on the task at hand. When I was here before, I was one of them. Things were different now.

I made my way inside and headed straight for Colonel Grier's office. He was an amazing pilot. He was in his late forties and a seasoned veteran who had trained countless new pilots in the UPT program. I knew him well. He was a solid guy that I respected. I hoped he would understand my situation.

Grier greeted me with a firm handshake. "It's been a long time, Ryker," he remarked.

"Four years," I replied. "Maybe five."

"Have a seat," he said. "I didn't know you were visiting."

I grimaced, dreading what came next. I wasn't visiting. "This will explain my visit ," I said and handed over the letter from General Thomas.

Grier's eyes narrowed as he read the contents. I braced myself for his reaction. I may as well have tap danced on his toes.

"He gave you my assignment?" Grier asked, his tone laced with disbelief.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "Mostly where Lieutenant Thomas is concerned," I explained, hoping to alleviate any concerns he might have. "I didn't ask for it. I'm supposed to be in London. I'm not here to take your job or get in your way."

"Lieutenant Thomas?" he asked and then I saw the second it all became clear. "His daughter."

"Yes, sir." I nodded. "I'll only be working in her classes. I won't interfere with any other classes or pilots under your command. You won't even know I'm here."

He didn't like it, I could tell, but there was little he could do to change the situation. General Thomas outranked all of us. If he chose to use me on his pet project, then that was what I was going to do.

"I wasn't aware his daughter would be here," he said.

"Neither was I until very recently," I replied.

Grier rubbed his face with both hands and let out a long breath. "This throws a wrench into our usual program. Lieutenant Thomas will be scrutinized, and so will we."

"But it's the general's orders, sir."

"Yes, it is." Colonel Grier sighed again and leaned back in his chair. He raked a hand through his graying hair. "I've known you for a long time, Ryker, and despite the unusual circumstances, I trust your judgment. But this better not interfere with my other cadets."

"It won't, sir," I assured him. "I won't let it."

"Am I being watched?" he asked.

"Watched, sir?"

"Watched? Are you reporting back to him?"

"Who?" I asked with confusion.

"General Thomas," he said. "Did someone file a complaint?"

"I don't know about that. I believe he thought your program was the best place for her." I hoped the compliment would help calm his ruffled feathers.

"Or he thinks she needs to be babysat," Grier countered, a bitter edge to his words.

I sympathized. He was used to being the one in control and this was a sudden blow to that status. Too many people in his sandbox. Not that I was a threat, but when you were sitting in his chair, you were constantly being challenged by hungry people hoping to climb the ranks. I had zero intention of going after his seat. I didn't want it.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, sir," I said. "I'm not here to step on any toes. I'm just here to complete my assignment. I had other plans myself. I was only recently informed my transfer overseas was put on hold until I completed this special assignment."

He chuckled and shook his head. "I guess when you're the king, you can do whatever you want. The princess?—"

I cut him off. I couldn't let him talk about her like that. "She's a talented, spirited pilot," I said. "If she can make it through this training, I think she's going to be one of the better pilots to come out of this program. If she does well, you look good."

"And that's what you're here for, right?"

"To make sure she does well?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow as I met his gaze. "I'm here to ensure she's given the proper guidance and training, sir. Nothing more, nothing less."

His lips twisted into a tight grimace. "Just perfect," he muttered under his breath, sounding more resigned than angry now.

"I understand this is a difficult position for you, sir," I offered quietly. "I'm here to help you and her. Use me. I'm going to be a little bored."

"Don't try to butter me up, Ryker," Grier chided me. "I'm not some green cadet who can be swayed by flattery. Just do your job without creating waves."

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze running over me with a look that was part appraisal and part warning. But I was used to such stares. The military was full of them. I nodded, knowing it would be best if I kept my responses short and straightforward.

"Understood, sir," I offered, standing up and saluting him crisply. "I assure you I will attend to my duties with complete dedication."

"Hey, how's Margaret?"

I grimaced. "I imagine she's fine."

"Are you guys on base?"

"She's in Texas. We're divorced."

"Oh," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's fine." I shrugged. "Another casualty of the United States military."

He chuckled. "It's a hard life."

"I'll see you around," I said. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I guess it's not so bad you're back in town," he called after me, his words carrying a hint of something I couldn't quite place.

I paused in the doorway, turning back to face him. "What do you mean?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

Grier smirked, a knowing glint in his eyes. "I know a certain dishonored pilot who will be happy to see you," he replied cryptically.

I nodded once. "Yes, sir."

I walked out of his office and outside. I couldn't shake the feeling of eyes following me, whispers trailing in my wake. It was a familiar sensation, one I had grown accustomed to over the years, but that didn't mean I liked it. I kept my chin up and shoulders back. My aviators were like a shield. No one could see my eyes.

Students murmured and whispered behind my back as I passed them, their gazes lingering just a moment too long before darting away. I knew what they were saying, the rumors and speculation that followed in my wake like a dark cloud. I had long since learned to tune out the noise, focusing instead on the task at hand. I had a job to do, just like everyone else here. If we did our jobs, everything would be just fine. The gossip was a little much, but most of the people here were young men and women. Young and naive.

I kept walking and tried to block out the looks. I never wanted to be here, stuck in Columbus while my peers were off chasing their dreams in far-flung corners of the world. London had been my destination, a chance to start fresh, to leave behind the ghosts of my past and forge a new path forward. But fate had other plans, it seemed, and now I was spending a year in this dull, uninspiring base.

I sighed inwardly, longing for the thrill of the skies. I loved training in high-risk maneuvers. Here in Columbus, I would be relegated to training rookie pilots on maneuvers I had mastered years ago, a far cry from the excitement and challenge I craved.

I made my way through base, and my thoughts turned to Sarah. I didn't think Grier needed to know I was tasked with babysitting the little firecracker. I wasn't sure if her father knew just how much trouble that girl got herself in.

I hoped she would catch on quickly, that she would prove herself capable and competent enough to stand on her own two feet. And stayed out of trouble of course. The sooner she did, the sooner Mo would cut me loose, and I could finally bid farewell to this stifling base. Part of the reason I joined the military was because I wanted to see the world. I had already seen Mississippi.

But until then, I was stuck here, forced to endure the monotony and boredom of a year spent training pilots who would never come close to matching my skill in the skies. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but one I knew I would have to endure if I ever hoped to escape this purgatory and return to where I truly belonged.

I kept my eyes averted from everyone. I wasn't interested in signing anything or talking about the riskiest dogfight I had ever been in.

Finally, reaching the hangar at the far end of the base, I paused to glance around. The place was filled with the hustle and bustle of mechanics and engineers, busy tinkering with aircraft, their hands smeared with grease as they huddled over blueprints, replacement parts strewn around them.

I inhaled the scent of oil and fuel. This was home. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't exciting, but it held a certain appeal that few could understand. There was something magical about seeing an aircraft come to life after hours of painstaking work.

I wanted to see the aircraft I was going to be training Sarah in. I approached one of the mechanics and introduced myself. He didn't know me, which was a blessing.

We made small talk about the base and its aircraft. He casually wiped his hands on a rag, leaving behind smudges of grease. I asked him if there were any maintenance issues, things he might need. I found it was easier to get people to open up when they didn't know they were talking to someone like me.

To my surprise, he had nothing but good things to say. That made me happy. Maybe this little stopover wouldn't be so bad. I thanked him and promised to see him around before I began the long walk back to my duplex.

Maybe things would get better, as long as Sarah didn't give me too much trouble.