Morgan's Mercenaries: Heart of Stone (8 page)

“Let me give you a quick idea of our layout, Major,” she said, gesturing to the right. “Over there is our HQ. My office and all other collateral offices are located in that two-story building. Just ahead of us is the maintenance area for the helicopters. As soon as they land, we get them inside. Faro Valentino always has his Kamovs snooping around. Luckily, we’ve got that lava wall between the cave entrance and the jungle out there. Otherwise, I’m sure he’d have come in here a long time ago and tried to use his rockets or missiles on us. The wall prevents that from happening.”

York looked back at the landing area. “It’s a perfect, natural defense position,” he murmured, awe in his tone. “How thick is that rock?”

“Thick enough to stop radar from getting through it.” Maya grinned wickedly as she gestured toward it. “We got lucky with this place. On the other side of this inactive volcano is an old mining operation and a shaft that connects us to it. There’s no way Faro and his pilots can get access to us. Of course, if we were stupid and left our helicopters out on the landing lip, they might drop a bomb or two, but we don’t give them that kind of an opportunity.”

Dane looked around. He felt a little of the tension ease between them. Seeing the sudden pride and excitement in Maya’s eyes as she talked about her squadron facilities was refreshing to him. So far, she hadn’t lobbed any verbal grenades at him. He was waiting,
though. There was too much bad blood between them, and he knew she hadn’t forgotten a thing he’d said or done to her back in flight school. The depths of her emerald eyes were very readable. Or maybe she was deliberately letting him see her myriad emotions.

“I’m going to look forward to checking out your facility, Captain. Seeing it on paper doesn’t do it justice. Seeing it in person…well, frankly, it’s overwhelming. Who would ever think you could get a base like this inside a mountain?”

“It took a year for Navy Seabees and a lot of helicopter flights to bring in everything you see here.” Maya stopped at the door to the two-story metal building. She took off her gloves and stuffed them into the right thigh pocket of her flight uniform. A number of electric golf carts whizzed around the buildings, coming and going in ceaseless activity. They were the workhorses of the facility.

“And you were here that first year?” Dane found it hard to believe.

She straightened and placed her long, spare fingers over the doorknob, her movements full of grace, like a cat’s. “Of course.”

He heard the sting in her husky tone. She opened the door and he followed. They climbed quickly up the metal stairs. Looking around, Dane was once more impressed. There was fluorescent lighting in the ivory-painted hallway. The highly polished white tile floor made it even brighter. He saw a number of doors to offices as they walked by—every one of them open. Women dressed in army-green T-shirts and fatigues were busy inside. There were computer monitors, telephones on the desks—just like any other busy squadron HQ. Only this one was situated inside a cave in a
mountain. Blown away by the facility, he felt his respect for Maya inch upward.

“In here,” she said, and stood aside, gesturing for him to enter the open office.

Dane scowled. “You leave your office door open like this all the time?”

She heard the censure in his tone. “Why not? Who’s going to come in here and steal top secret info? One of my people?” She laughed.

“Still,” Dane said stubbornly, “it’s not a good policy.”

Snorting, Maya followed him into the office. She turned and shut the door. The tension between them was there again. Placing her helmet on a nearby table, she shrugged out of her chicken plate and hung it up on a wall hook. Ruffling her hair with her fingers, she moved around her metal desk, which looked like a disaster had hit it, and went to the coffeemaker sitting on a makeshift table behind it.

“Want some coffee?” she asked, without turning around. Pouring the thick, black brew into a chipped white mug, Maya set it on her desk.

“Yes…I need something to calm my nerves after that attack.” Dane stood expectantly behind Maya as she reached for a second white mug and filled it.

Grinning, Maya turned and handed the mug to him. “Cream and sugar are here if you want it.” The instant their fingertips touched, Maya wanted to jerk her hand away, but she countered the urge. Smoothly handing the cup to him, she took a seat in her old, creaking chair and leaned back in it, her own mug between her hands.

Dane sipped the coffee. Wrinkling his nose, he muttered, “This is strong.”

“So? Around here you have to be or you don’t make the grade, Major.”

He saw the laughter in her eyes again. There was a thoughtful look on her face. How had Maya grown even more beautiful in four years? Dane sat down on the chair located at one side of her desk. The office was small and cramped. On the wall he saw her flight graduation diplomas. There was a color photo of her father, the general, on her desk, along with another of her silver-haired mother. There was a third photo, of a woman who looked strikingly like Maya and was dressed in a dark green, sleeveless T-shirt, a leather thong with two claws hanging between her breasts. Dane hadn’t known Maya had a twin sister.

Family was important to Maya, he realized, even out here in the middle of a godforsaken jungle. He also noticed several spikes of orchids, red with yellow lips, on one edge of her desk—a woman’s touch. Color to make the ivory walls and dark metal desk seem less masculine, he supposed. On another wall was a pair of crossed U.S. Army ceremonial swords. He recalled that her nickname was Saber, and he smiled to himself. The swords were a nonverbal reminder of who and what she was.

“That hole you fly through out there is a corker,” he muttered as he sipped the coffee.

Chuckling darkly, Maya said, “Yeah, it’s an added pucker factor, no doubt.” She saw his mouth soften slightly over her joke. One corner lifted. Just barely. Maybe old sourpuss York wasn’t going to bust her chops, after all. She remained on guard, however, because he was like a sniping bulldog that would come out of left field and attack her verbally when she least expected it.

“You two flew through it like it was nothing. We inched toward the entrance and then inched our way through. I’m impressed with your ability in such tight quarters.”

Maya grinned fully. The cup of coffee felt good in her hands. She wanted to relax a little, but she didn’t dare. She felt like raw, exposed nerves with him around. Right now, York’s face was losing some of its tension; his broad brow was less wrinkled and the creases around his mouth less deep. But she didn’t dare trust that the ease between them would last. “They don’t teach that in school, do they?”

She saw him frown.

“We call it threading the Eye of the Needle. If you hear the word,
Eye,
that’s what we’re referring to. And yes, it’s a dangerous maneuver.”

“If those clouds are too thick,” Dane said, “how can your radar penetrate enough to show you where the entrance is?”

Shrugging, Maya murmured, “We wait until the clouds thin out. My orders to my pilots are not to attempt it if the radar can’t scan the opening fully.”

“I’m impressed.”

“With what? The Eye?”

“No…you. What you’ve set up here. It’s a pretty remarkable facility from what I’ve seen so far.”

Maya didn’t let his compliment go to her heart or her head. She saw York struggling to remain distant and polite with her. Well, she was struggling to maintain a professional attitude, too. At least he was trying.

“What’s remarkable,” Maya told him with seriousness, “is that this is an all-woman operation. It was from the git-go. We have the best flight crews in the
world. My pilots can outfly anyone, anywhere and at any time.”

Dane opened his mouth and then shut it. The pride in her eyes and in her impassioned, husky voice was unmistakable. “Flying down here would certainly give you skills that most of our other Apache pilots don’t have.”

“Yeah, there’s a real difference between live fire and Kamovs hunting you, and going out to the practice range to shoot at wooden targets that can’t shoot back.” She laughed derisively.

Dane sipped his coffee. He bit back another acid comment. She was right. Dead right. The glittering look in her eyes excited him. Maya was a hunter of the first order. Like he was.

“I know I’m stuck here for six weeks teaching, but I’d sure as hell like a shot at that Kamov that was chasing me.”

“Stuck here?” Maya’s voice dripped sarcasm. “Is that how you feel, Major? That you’re ‘stuck’ here with us?”

Damn!
Dane closed his eyes momentarily. He’d done it already. He’d spoken before he’d carefully thought over his reply. Opening his hand, he muttered, “Poor choice of words, Captain. My men and I were looking forward to the assignment.”

Snorting, Maya stood up, cup in her hands. She glared down at him. “You haven’t changed at all, Major. You’re just a little smoother around the edges about it, is all. Aren’t you?”

Struggling to control his own anger, Dane met her cool, assessing green eyes. His skin prickled beneath her righteous annoyance. “Look, Captain Stevenson, I’m not here to fight with you. We’re here to help you
fight an enemy, an obviously powerful one. You’ve got a war going on down here. I wasn’t aware of that. Or at least, not the magnitude of it.” Would she believe him? Judging by the way she lifted her chin to an imperious angle, she didn’t. At all.

“Let me make one thing
very
clear to you, York.” Maya dropped all pretense of military formality. She saw the shock in his eyes over her deliberate use of his last name only. Ordinarily he, as a major, had rank and privilege over her. But not down here. And not ever, as far as she was concerned. “We have a lot of bad history between us. Most of my flight crews don’t know about you, and about your reputation of verbally denigrating women who are in the military. Just the women pilots who trained with you at Fort Rucker.” Her voice softened, a grating edge to it as she set the mug down and walked slowly around the desk.

“My pilots risk their lives day in and day out. I have only twelve of them. Three fly combat missions every day or night, on a twenty-four-hour duty. Three are on standby at the ready shack. And the other three get a day off that’s really not a day off at all. We’re shorthanded around here. I’ve got fifty-four people and that’s it. Everyone works twelve-hour shifts, seven days a week. The demands, the responsibilities, are high enough to choke a horse. And every one of those women out there would give her heart, body and soul to me if I asked for it. We operate under wartime conditions at
all
times. There isn’t an hour that goes by that my people aren’t busting their tails and risking their lives getting necessary things done around here to keep those birds flying.”

Her voice lowered to a snarl. “And if you so dare say something like you’re ‘stuck’ here to them, to their
faces, I’ll be throwing you on board our Apache and sending your butt out of here so fast it’ll make even your seasoned head swim.” She jabbed her finger into his upturned face. His eyes were nearly colorless and she knew from past experience they only got that way when he was angry. Maya remembered all too well those huge, black pupils set in a pale blue background glaring back at her when she confronted him at the school when he was out of line. “You even
hint
of prejudice toward my pilots or crews and you’re out of here. Is that understood?”

Smarting, Dane rose. Maya stood a few feet away, her cheeks flushed, her eyes narrowed with fury, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Why don’t you let our past go? That would help one helluva lot,” he said.

Jerking her chin up, Maya glared at him. “You started this, I didn’t. I’m more than willing to let our past go. But our mutual history is alive and well now, York, from what I can tell. I won’t tolerate a
breath
of prejudice from you.”

He controlled his anger. Dane knew her dressing down was warranted. He had no one to blame for his foot-in-mouth this time but himself. Maya had been pleasant with him up to that point. Formal, but at least not angry or nasty like she was being right now. His anger at himself warred with the words he’d had from his colonel; if Maya called his C.O., Dane’s career would be over. Looking around, he took some deep breaths to try and settle his frustration.

“Look,” he rasped, “let’s start all over. All right?” He held out his hand toward her in a gesture of peace. “I promise you that my crew is not like me.”

“Thank God.”

“They’re just the opposite. They’ve been looking forward to this assignment.”

“Unlike you.”

Mouth compressing, Dane glared at her. “You’re not going to give me an inch, are you?”

“Not a chance, York. I won’t let you think of hurting my people. I know you. My pilots suffered under you just like I did. We have a long, collective memory. And you’re the one on the edge of the sword, not us, this time.” Her nostrils quivered. Tension swirled between them.

“I promise not to allow my mouth to get in the way of any instruction with your pilots and crews.” Dane held her blazing green eyes. “Is that enough? I’m sorry. Deeply sorry. Or do you want a pound of my flesh, while you’re at it?”

Her fury subsided. She sensed York’s honest attempt to lessen the tension between them. “You don’t have
anything
I want, York. All I expect from you toward my people is
respect.
And if you haven’t realized it already, they’ve more than earned anything you or your men can give them. Like I said, we’re on a wartime footing down here. You boys from Fort Rucker ‘play’ at war, but we’re in it up to our hocks every day.” Blowing a breath of air between her lips, Maya moved away from him. Why did York have to be such a bastard? And yet, although she hated to admit it, she was powerfully drawn to the army officer. She had to be loco!

Dane waited until her voice ebbed away in the small, cramped room. “You already have our respect,” he told her quietly. “I admit I didn’t think women could be warriors…but I’m being proved wrong.”

Maya walked around her desk and sat down. “You were wrong four years ago, too.”