LITMIR.BIZ

      2

      CHRIS PROCEEDED UP the long sidewalk toward the Test Pilot School building. She touched her hair, now in a chignon at the nape of her neck, in a gesture of nervousness. Why do I feel as if I’m going in front of a firing squad, she wondered. I thought I’d sweated enough for my wings. Her stomach was tied in knots. She was dressed in her snug one-piece green flight suit that was adorned with all the appropriate patches on each shoulder. The small pearl earrings and pale-pink nail polish and light application of makeup subtly emphasized her femininity. Her blue flight cap rested on her black hair, the double silver bar on the cap shining brightly in the January sunlight.

      Chris stifled her anxiety as she climbed the last few steps to the cream-colored building. Whether she wanted to or not, she had thought about Dan McCord off and on throughout the past two days. The image he projected as a playboy pilot out to have a good time was simply a sham, she decided. McCord was made of much more reliable material than the ego-ridden jet jockeys she had worked with throughout her career. Dan possessed a thread of gentleness coupled with incredible sensitivity that threw her completely off guard. Chris had no defense against kindness. Taking a deep, uneven breath, she opened the door, uttering, “Welcome to the real world, Captain Mallory.” Chris knew there would be men in her class who would hate her presence. And there would be other pilots who would applaud her efforts based on her flying skills and ignore the fact that she was a woman. Inwardly she drew a small breath. At least one instructor, Dan McCord, was on her side and that made her feel a twinge of relief on an otherwise stressful occasion.

      Adrenaline made Chris’s heart pound faster as she walked down the highly polished hall to the first classroom. A small knot of pilots stood off to one side, giving Chris a challenging stare. Her mouth went dry, but she didn’t let her gaze waver. She was damned if she was going to feel belittled by a bunch of jet jockeys. Their gazes raked over her as she passed. Chris’s keen hearing picked up a few stage whispers and then a collective laugh from the group. It wasn’t going to be easy to integrate.

      From 0800 through noon they heard from many of the instructors explaining curriculum, flight schedules and the school’s aims and goals. Chris was attentive throughout the presentations, but never as much so as when Dan McCord stepped to the front of the room. He looked relaxed, breathtakingly handsome in his flight suit and keenly alert. She smiled to herself. Wasn’t that something they all shared in common: that “look of the eagles?” She hadn’t seen a man here today who didn’t possess that characteristic.

      “I’m Major McCord, and I’ll be your instructor for the first thirteen weeks of flight aerodynamics,” he announced. He scanned the room, found Chris and saw her color fiercely. “The curriculum is drawn up to teach you how to work in a team-oriented environment. In each team there will be a test pilot, a navigator and an engineer. You’ll work on gathering data, planning and carrying out what you’ve discovered and then evaluating it on actual test flights. After that, a written report on your assigned research projects will be handed in.” McCord stopped his slow pacing from one side of the room to the other, his eyes narrowing. “I can’t stress the importance of teamwork here, ladies and gentlemen. Part of being a test pilot is understanding that you don’t work alone.” His gaze settled briefly on Chris. “The pilot is only a part of the team. It’s true, you will be flying the aircraft. But at times you’ll need a navigator in that back seat—more importantly, a test engineer. Without him or her, your job wouldn’t exist. This isn’t an area where egos can get in the way,” he warned. “You set aside your prejudices and your opinions, and stick with the facts and only the facts,” he concluded, his voice growing harder.

      McCord had already picked out which pilots would be a problem to Chris. Earlier, Captain Richard Brodie had swaggered up to Chris while she was talking with two other pilots. Dan had just walked into the lounge area when he saw Brodie make a pass at Chris. He had to curb a smile as Chris easily evaded him. Brodie had not expected her to turn him down and departed fuming, his ego decidedly wounded.

      Brodie, as he liked to be called, was the typical macho fighter jock who lived, drank and partied hard. He flew like few other pilots dared. If Brodie didn’t square off with Chris within the first month, Dan would be surprised. And if Brodie did, it was up to the instructor to put a quick stop to it.

      He paused, glancing at his watch. He had ten minutes before lunch. “One more thing before we break for chow,” he continued. “Just remember this—you are the best. You’ve got the confidence, competitiveness and intelligence that can’t be matched anywhere else in the world. You are it! And you’re at the toughest school in the world. What we wring out of you in the next forty-six weeks will be unbelievable. But you were chosen because of your tenacity. You all have what it takes or you wouldn’t be here. Okay, let’s break,” he ordered. “Those of you who don’t want to hit the NASA cafeteria up on the road can hang around for the sandwich truck. It’s a blue-and-white affair that’s got a variety of junk food on board.” He allowed a momentary smile. “It’s affectionately known as the Roach Coach.”

      The students laughed with him and they rose, dispersing quickly. He caught up with Chris. “I’d like to see you in private for a few moments,” he said.

      Her eyes widened, and he chastised himself for sounding so damned official. “Don’t worry, it’s good news,” he added with a persuasive smile.

      “Okay.”

      Chris’s heart beat furiously. What was happening to her? Dan always seemed to make her feel shaky and breathless. He took her elbow, guiding her out of the room and down the hall. She put her flight cap on as they swung out the back door to the parking lot. “Where are we going?” she wanted to know.

      “O’Club for lunch,” he answered casually, escorting her to his Corvette.

      Chris slowed, a smile barely touching her mouth. “Is this official business, Major?”

      He laughed pleasantly, opening the door for her. He leaned closer, his azure eyes disturbingly intense. “Absolutely. After watching you shoot down Captain Brodie, I decided to use a different approach.”

      Chris climbed in without a retort. She enjoyed Dan’s company and looked forward to the lunch. Giving him a wry look she said, “The Captain Brodies of the world will never match your approach, Major.”

      A twinkle came to Dan’s eyes. “I’ve known Brodie off and on throughout my career. He has the tactics of a bull in a china shop, thinking every woman will swoon over him because he’s a fighter pilot.”

      “Well,” Chris said, laughing good-naturedly, “I thought he was going to faint from shock when I turned down his invitation for lunch today.”

      “Wise choice. Besides, you’re going out with a better man anyway.”

      They both laughed in unison. “The only reason I went with you is because you made it sound like an order,” she teased.

      He pursed his lips. “It was.”

      Chris knew differently, but she remained silent. McCord would no more use his rank and authority for personal gain than she would.

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