Red Tail

Still, something had stirred within her dormant heart and Storm couldn’t quite identify what it was. But it was a good feeling and, God knew, she needed something to neutralize the past few nightmarish weeks.

“Bram….” The name rolled off her tongue. An unusual name. Different. And so was he. But he was distinctly male in every thrilling sense. A wry smile curved her mouth. “They ought to call you Ram,” she muttered and then laughed out loud. “You just lower your head and charge!”

Two

The first statement thrown at Storm occurred the moment she swung through the doors of the Operations Center. It was one fifteen in the afternoon and time for the next duty section to take the next twenty-four-hour alert. Lieutenant Kyle Armstrong was at the forty-cup coffeepot when she walked in. The other eight pilots raised their heads in greeting.

“Hey, Stormie, the Old Man’s secretary called over here. He wants to see you right away.”

She rolled her eyes heavenward as she joined Kyle, and reached for a heavy glass mug with her name on it. “You really know how to make a woman’s day.”

“Sorry,” he demurred. “Hey, we saw your boy earlier,” Armstrong mentioned, a grin lapping at the corners of his mouth.

Storm gave him a dirty look, throwing an extra spoonful of sugar into the coffee as a fortifying measure. “My ‘boy’?”

“Yeah. The ex-fighter jock. What’s his name? Gallagher?”

“Quit grinning like a damn coon hound hunting fox,” she growled, lifting the scalding coffee to her lips. Wrinkling her nose, she took a small sip. Couldn’t the day wait even long enough for her to get her customary coffee into her veins and wake up her brain? She had slept poorly throughout the night, finally sleeping soundly at eight A.M. The alarm pulled her out of sleep at noon, and she had rushed through a shower to make it to the station on time.

Kyle, who was twenty-nine and the father of two kids, laughed. The other pilots who were lounging around waiting for the orders of the day to be handed out joined his laughter. “Just a little inside info, Storm,” he said. “Gallagher was over here at 1100 nosing around and asking about you.”

“Yeah,” Jesse Mason chortled. “He wanted to know all about you.”

Her gray eyes narrowed as she turned around, observing her cohorts. She had been flying with all these men for a long time, and they were like brothers to her. “What’d you tell him, Jess?”

Mason, who was part of the duty section to be relieved, grinned. “Not a damn thing. Told him if he wanted to know anything about you, he should go and ask you. I told him how Coasties stuck together.”

It was her turn to smile. “I’ll bet he just loved that answer.”

“Not exactly,” Kyle chuckled.

“Hey,” Jesse called as she turned to leave. “We don’t want him! If the Old Man decides to transfer him to another section, Stormie, we don’t want the bastard. He’s too sure of himself. A guy like that can get you killed. I don’t care if he was top stick in his class—his attitude sucks.”

Chuckling to herself, Storm waved good-bye to them, stepping out into the stifling grip of the hot, humid afternoon. Climbing back into her sports car, she balanced between shifting gears and drinking most of her coffee before she arrived at the Administration building. Now primed with coffee, Storm felt like she could withstand the coming showdown. Taking a deep breath, she entered the air-conditioned building and walked toward the commanding officer’s quarters of Captain Jim Greer.

* * *

“Lieutenant Travis, come on in,” the captain called as he saw her step into the outer office.

Storm entered the large well-appointed office, coming to attention. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Bram Gallagher. He looked breathtakingly handsome in his flight suit. And he wasn’t looking happy.

“At ease, Storm,” Captain Greer ordered, looking up from his cluttered desk. “I want you to meet your copilot replacement, Lieutenant Bram Gallagher.”

Storm turned, offering her hand. Gallagher’s grip was strong and firm but controlled. His eyes were cobalt with veiled anger as he met her mischief-laden gaze.

“A pleasure, Lieutenant Travis,” he told her silkily.

Liar, Storm said to herself. Her fingers tingled from his touch as she resumed her at-ease position, hands behind her back. Greer smiled up at her.

“It’s all mine, believe me,” she murmured, barely able to keep from smiling.

“Lieutenant Gallagher has never worked with women pilots before, Storm. I’ve informed him that in the Coast Guard we’re the least likely of all the services to be, shall we say, chauvinistic.” He transferred his attention to the other pilot. “Storm will be responsible for teaching you all the finer points of CG helo operations, Lieutenant Gallagher. It will be up to her and the Operations officer to determine how much you fly or don’t fly. She’ll help set up a training schedule for you, which will be approved by Commander Harrison, and you’ll answer to her if there are any problems.”

“And if there are, sir?”

“Then you talk to the Operations officer, Commander Harrison.” Greer folded his hands, giving the pilot an icy smile laced with warning. “But I’m confident that if there are any problems, you two can work them out amicably between yourselves.”

“We will, sir,” Storm assured the captain heartily, flipping Gallagher a venom-laden look.

“Yes, sir,” Gallagher mimicked, giving her an equally viperous glance in return.

* * *

Once outside the building, Gallagher reached out, pulling her to a halt. “You’re enjoying this a little too much, lieutenant.”

“Am I?” she asked coolly. Storm forced herself not to react to his firm, arousing touch.

“Yes, and if I didn’t know better, so are your shipmates.”

“You brought it on yourself, Gallagher.”

His features darkened as he regarded her. “I’ve never seen men so protective of a woman in their ranks before. What’d you do, bed down with each one of them?”

Her response was instantaneous and totally instinctive. Storm’s palm caught his cheek in a glancing blow, the slap sounding sharply. Startled, Storm took a step away from him, her face flushed scarlet. She stood there, hands clenched into fists at her side, breathing hard. Gallagher ruefully rubbed his reddening cheek. My God, she had never struck anyone in her life! She began to tremble from the surge of adrenaline flowing through her body.

“How dare you,” she quavered.

A slight grin pulled at his mouth and he gave her a sheepish look. “Guess I had that coming, didn’t I?” And then his blue eyes darkened. “Storm’s a good name for you,” he said in a husky voice.

The suggestive tone was overpowering to her shattered senses. Storm was angry at herself for reacting like a woman instead of an officer who was supposed to be in charge. What the hell was the matter with her? Shape up, Travis, she berated herself. Her gray eyes narrowed.

“It’s obvious you don’t care for me as your superior, Lieutenant Gallagher,” she told him through clenched teeth, “but that’s something you and I are just going to have to suffer through. I don’t like this any more than you do. And what’s more, you had damn well better pay attention to my orders when I give them while we’re in the air. The first time you even think of disobeying me could cause us to be killed. I won’t stand for that. You can hate me on the ground but up in the air, mister, I’m the AC and what I say goes. Do we understand each other?”

Bram stared down at her. He lost his smile, aware of the steel backbone she possessed. The problem was that he liked her as a woman; already she had intrigued him. He had barely slept all last night thinking about her. A new glint of respect shone in his eyes. “Okay, I can buy that, lieutenant. In the air, you’re the queen. I won’t ever disobey an order you give me—that’s a promise.”

She eased upright, realizing she had hunched over into an almost attacklike position. She stabbed a finger toward him. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Gallagher. You jet jocks in the Air Force are used to one-man shows. Here in the Coast Guard, we work as a close-knit team. In the air, I’m not the queen. I’m just part of the coordinated flesh and blood team that’s flying that helicopter toward a rescue. And one more thing. All I want from you is your respect. Hate my guts, but respect the knowledge I’ve accrued.” She marched toward her blue sports car, then spun on her booted heel, glaring at him. “I’ll see you over at the Ops center. We’re due for our 1330 briefing by the Section Duty officer.”

What the hell had she done? Storm groaned, forcing herself to slow down on the way over to the hangar area. Her face was hot with mortification. I’ll bet Gallagher thinks I go around slapping men all the time. Why should she care what he thinks? And that look Captain Greer had given her…he knew the fur was going to fly. She ran her fingers haphazardly through her ginger hair in an aggravated motion.

* * *

The ten Coast Guard pilots sat with their cups of coffee in hand as the SDO, LCDR Mike Duncan passed out the assignments. Storm sat rigidly next to Gallagher. She had endured his stare when he was the last to enter the Operations area. Storm had noticed that all the normal congenial noise died down to silence when he entered. A part of her felt compassion for him. He was new, and an outsider, not only because he was a green helicopter pilot, but because he was from another branch of the service. Grimacing, Storm glanced over at him. His probing blue eyes met hers. She quickly refocused her attention upon Duncan.

“Storm, you get to take those five loads of pallets from supply and drop them over at the staging area.” Duncan, a man of forty with prematurely graying hair, gave her a slight smile. “Maybe you can show Lieutenant Gallagher the finer points of sling ops.”

She nodded. “Okay.” Great, they got the trash run today. Did she have a black cloud hanging over her head or something?

After being dismissed, Bram followed her to the line shack that sat near the Ops building. Bram came abreast of her and slowed his pace. Automatically Storm allowed the rest of the pilots to amble on by them. She glanced up at him.