Oslo Overtures (5 page)

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Authors: Marion Ueckermann

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Oslo Overtures
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“Angel, wait up.”

Anjelica stopped as he ran toward her. She couldn’t escape him. He’d always pursued her. He’d do so now. He clasped her shoulders, his face etched with concern. “Did one of the guys do something, say something?”

She shook her head.
Not really.
With a deep sigh, she relented, wiping her eyes. “It’s Kristoff.”

Erick wrapped his arms around her, and she began to sob. He held her tight, stroking her hair. “You’re missing him being here, aren’t you?”

Anjelica laid her head on his shoulder without acknowledging his question. Truth was she wasn’t really missing Kristoff…not like she always had.

“He’ll always be alive in your heart and in your memories.”

“I know. And that’s the problem. I need to let him go…move on with my life. I need to fall in love again.” Anjelica’s chest heaved; her breathing sputtered. “And I need to stop feeling guilty.”

Placing his fingers beneath her chin, Erick tipped her head upward. His gaze met hers. “You are not responsible for his death, Angel.”

“I know. I made peace with that a long time ago.” Her voice felt weak.

“Then why do you feel guilty?”

“Because I think I might be falling in love again, and it scares me.”

He pulled her closer and pressed his cheek against hers. His stubble pricked her skin. “
Min kjære
…”

My love?
No! How had Erick misread what she was trying to say? A wave of nausea washed over her as his mouth crashed down on hers.

 

~*~

 

Opening the door to the patio, Kyle paused and looked across the crowd. Where would she go? Definitely not here. Surely, she’d search for a quiet place where she could think, process what had happened? He shoved his way through the revelers and headed for the staircase. Perhaps he’d find her in the gardens.

As he descended the stairs he could see two figures up ahead on the path between the trees, locked in an embrace. He’d recognize that slender figure and long blond hair anywhere.
And
the tall man whose mouth held hers captive.

How had he not seen it before now? Her oversensitivity to Erick enjoying his “pink skies” joke. Erick’s annoyance when he’d asked about Anjelica earlier. How would he face them both tomorrow? Kyle turned on his heel and hurried away before they saw him.

 

~*~

 

Anjelica shoved Erick away. “Are you crazy?” She spoke in undertones, taking care not to make a scene.

“But you said—”

“I might’ve been in love with you, Erick, when I was ten, but not anymore. We’ve had this conversation far too many times for you to have misunderstood me.” She turned and marched back up the path. She should’ve stayed in her room tonight.

And miss Kyle’s kiss?

Erick ran up behind her. He reached for her. “Angel, please—”

She recoiled at his touch. “Don’t…” She quickened her pace.

His footsteps halted. “I’m really sorry,” he called after her, his voice laced with regret.

Anjelica stopped and peered over her shoulder.

He looked so forlorn. Rejected.

“I’m sorry, too, Erick.”

She hurried back up the stairs, shoved her way through the men, and burst into the room. But the chairs were empty. Kyle was gone. Disappointed, Anjelica dragged herself to her room. Tomorrow, after church, she’d tell him everything.

 

 

 

 

5

 

Kyle scrunched the pillow beneath his head as if the action would find him rest. Hadn’t he tried that far too many times throughout the night? He peered at his watch. Time to get up already? He swung his feet out of bed. They hit the carpeted floor with barely a sound in the narrow space between his bed and Luke’s.

He dreaded facing Anjelica today. And Erick. Would she tell Erick that he’d kissed her? He didn’t fancy being on the receiving end of the Norwegian’s fist. This could spell the end of their friendship.

And what about church tonight? He desperately wanted to go, needed to go, but would Anjelica still be willing for him to tag along? Would Erick come, too?

He needed reinforcements, just in case.

Kyle leaned over and shook Luke.

Luke mumbled into his pillow and pulled the covers higher over his head.

“Luke.” Kyle’s tone was firm.

Luke threw back the covers. “What?” Sleep combined with annoyance did not make for a pretty face. This would be challenging.

“I need you to do something for me today.”

Luke’s face softened as he tried to wake. He widened his eyes several times before they fell closed again. He rubbed them as he propped himself up on one elbow. “What do you need, Bro?”

“I need you to come to church with me this evening.”

Luke shot upright. Creases crumpled his brow like the sheets that surrounded him. There wasn’t much in life that Luke Maskil didn’t do. Church was one of the things that fell into that small category. “You’re joking, right?”

“C’mon, Luke. You could do with some getting closer to God. This is a triple one formation we’re attempting this week. Plenty can go wrong with so many fliers in the air. We’re dancing with death here.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Every time we get out of bed in the morning, Bro, we’re dancing with death.” He sat up. His feet fell to the floor with a dull thud. Kyle was certain the action was exaggerated to emphasize his point. “You’re just afraid to be alone with Anjelica tonight, that’s all.”

And Erick.

“That’s beside the point. I need to get to church tonight, and so do you.” Kyle could make excuses, but it didn’t change the fact that, despite everything he’d discovered, he still wanted to be with her tonight. Even if it meant having Luke tag along.

Luke, however, didn’t bite.

He’d have to try another tactic.

“If you come with, I’ll fly across the Oslofjord after we’ve broken the formation record.” What possessed him to say that?

“Promise?” That got Luke’s attention.

Kyle nodded without giving another thought to the consequences.

“Hmm. How about you do it across the longest straight path over water?” Luke was nibbling at the bait.

Section 9.3—Flight Path—of the Phoenix-Fly manual popped into his mind: Avoid flying over or near large bodies of water. This rule had been ingrained in him since his first jump as an eighteen-year-old nearly fourteen years ago. So…rules were made to be broken, weren’t they? And tonight was important. “I’ll do it.”

Luke scrambled out of bed and grabbed Kyle’s laptop, plunking both himself and the machine down beside Kyle. He opened a mapping program and typed in “
Oslo.”

A familiar picture in varying shades of blues and greens emerged on the screen. Kyle had seen the same view in a myriad of countries, except in four dimensions as he experienced the depth, the width, and the height of the earth from above…all in the time it took to fly back down to earth.

The shallower waters of the Oslofjord emerged as Luke zoomed in. Aquamarine melded to indigo, leaving the deeper waters shaded in a midnight blue.

“Here.” Luke tapped the screen. “You can start on the west side of the fjord at Vollen and fly northeast across the inner fjord to Oslo.” He clicked on the ruler icon and drew a straight line across the blue area of the screen, narrowly skimming the edges of the islands that dotted the fjord. “Just over nine miles.”

Kyle chewed on his lower lip as he contemplated the flight. Might as well be to the moon and back. That was a long way to fly over water. If anything went wrong…

“You trying to off me?”

Luke grinned. “What else? You’re my biggest competition—in the air
and
on the ground.”

This had to be the toughest, dumbest challenge they’d put on the table in all their years of friendship. Luke must really not want to go to church.

“I’ll even foot the helicopter bill,” Luke pushed as he zoomed in further on the blue expanse, revealing small, labeled pockets of land. “Ah, yes. How about we meet up at the Dyna Fyr lighthouse?”

Kyle looked closer at the small dot of land surrounded by too much water.

“You want me to fly over nine miles across water and then land on a lighthouse?”

“Pretty much. It’s not like it hasn’t been done before…except for the lighthouse landing, of course. Remember the ‘Sputnik’? That winged stuntman flew eleven miles up the Irish coast

from the Aran Islands, over Galway Bay, all the way to Connemara airport. Went and beat the average local plane time by more than a minute. Crazy daredevil.” He ruffled Kyle’s hair.

Kyle was certain he couldn’t make it look worse.

“Don’t worry about the landing, Bro, it’s not so bad. I don’t think it’s one of those tall, slender towers surrounded by rocks and crashing waves.” Luke clicked on an icon at the lighthouse’s location and a photograph popped up, picture postcard perfect. The lighthouse looked more like an American chapel. Calm waters surrounded the small structure that took up the entire piece of land. The skies were awash in pink.

“Look, there’s a deck out back. We’ll ask them to clear it for you to land.”

“It’s barely big enough to land a model airplane, let alone a man dangling from a chute. Are you trying to annihilate me?”

Luke shook his head. His smile grew wider. “Just making the challenge a tad more interesting. Don’t tell me you’re scared?”

Nervous. But he wouldn’t show it.

“Wouldn’t that landing be illegal?” Perhaps that would make Luke see sense.

“Probably. That’s why I’ll have the Angel with me. She’d be able to talk the devil himself out of trouble.” He chuckled. “And she speaks Norse code.”

“Anjelica? You want to bring her with?”

“Of course. Besides, whichever side of paradise you touch down on, you’ll want an angel there to greet you with a kiss.”

Kyle thought of those sweet-tasting, delicate pink lips. This was a dangerous trade.

“Fine. I’ll do it. First thing Saturday morning, but you’re buying breakfast after.”

 

~*~

 

Wingsuiters filled the airfield’s green grass. Not even the nip in the early morning air could quell Anjelica’s excitement. Today would be great. They’d jump in groups from Twin Otters and Skyvans—three of each—as they practiced their formation. She’d see Kyle and stand beside him as they took to the skies. And she’d be the one he saw as he flew behind her.

Later, at church, they’d worship the One who’d made those beautiful skies. Together.

She followed her team to their plane. They were in the Skyvan. Good. She preferred its gaping rear exit to the Otter’s smaller side option. After listening to final team instructions from Erick, she donned her helmet and allowed the plane to swallow her into its belly.

Kyle and his team followed minutes later. He acknowledged Anjelica with a nod then returned to the conversation he and Luke were engaged in.

As they sank into the canvas seats that folded out from the metal walls, a clicking sound dominoed through the plane—nineteen wingsuiters securing themselves.

The temperature dropped the higher they climbed until the inside of the plane was almost as cool as Kyle’s demeanor. She was surprised, especially after his kiss last night, which, thanks to her stupidity, had been short-lived. Did he regret his impulsive action? Perhaps he felt shy, although he’d been anything but when he’d kissed her.

Anjelica leaned close to Kyle and touched his arm, allowing her hand to linger.

He glanced back at her and she offered a smile.

“I’m really looking forward to tonight.” She shouted to be heard through his helmet and above the drone of the engines and chatter of men that bounced between the metal walls. “And you?”

She watched his gaze flit over to Erick, seated opposite them, and then back to her.

“Sure. Luke is too.” He turned to Luke and patted his leg. “Aren’t you, Bro?”

Luke grinned and nodded.

The loud-mouthed Kiwi was coming, too? How did that happen?

Her hand fell from his arm, and she gritted her teeth. While Luke had as much right, if not more than her, to be warming the pews, Anjelica could not help the disappointment that seeped into her being.

 

~*~

 

Kyle eyed Anjelica out of his peripheral vision. She looked so cute in her white wingsuit, her silver helmet framing her head like a halo. He breathed deep as the same delicate perfume from last night teased his senses—so out of place in this virile environment, but a welcome reprieve from the hint of perspiration that wafted through the cabin.

He caught a glimpse of her lips, moisturized with gloss, and wondered what flavor she wore today. He could still taste her mouth, and feel the touch of her hand on his skin. His ear, already attuned to her accent, could hear her voice inside his head even when she wasn’t speaking. It drowned out the Norwegian, Kiwi, and American sounds that buzzed around him.

How was he supposed to get her out of his head when she would be in his face all week, when every part of her attacked his senses in every way possible?

To make matters worse, Jeremy White no longer wanted him filming footage from his belly-mount. Now Kyle had to capture the lead flier in flight daily, study her flying, and give her any assistance or training she needed. He basically had to babysit her flight path. Why the organizers had placed her in the lead position was beyond him if they felt she still needed guidance.

The red light on the opposite wall lit up. Two minutes until the door would open. Seat belts clicked then clattered to the floor as they were unlatched and discarded. Soon he’d find out just how good she was. Yesterday was all about the jumps. From today, it would be about formation only, about the tallest tree in a field of blue.

As Kyle stood, he glanced at her once more. She was already on her feet, zipped up, and set to jump.

Kyle tightened his helmet and shoved his glasses over his eyes. The slender, tight-fitting glasses would shield them from the wind. They did nothing, however, to protect him from the vision in white that stood before him. Kyle fiddled with the camera mount on his helmet as he tried to push the images, sounds, and smells of Anjelica from his mind.

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