naval presence in the region — given the opportunity to sail plenty of vessels into Korean waters, all nations did so with gusto. All of the ships operated near each other without protest or problems. It all led the world to believe that a peaceful transition to democracy was actually possible in Korea.
But then the missile attacks and the destruction of a major Korean city reportedly by a Chinese ballistic missile snapped the world back to reality. Tensions were high again in the blink of an eye. American military forces, already at a high state of alert, were placed on an even more advanced stage of readiness, as far advanced as possible without actually flying aircraft or sending ships to Korea or appearing as if they threatened China or Russia.
There was little talk from China — all of the bellicose language coming from Asia was from the Korean Communist government-in-exile. President Kim Jong-il was on CNN almost hourly, loudly proclaiming that President Kwon of United Korea wanted nothing more than to precipitate a superpower conflict so Japan and Korea could emerge as leaders of a new Asian power bloc.
All the other noise on CNN came from President Kevin Martindale’s critics, who slammed him mercilessly. He was not tough enough with the Chinese or Koreans; he should never have relinquished the lost Korean or Japanese bases; he should send more troops or more aircraft carriers into Asia; and on it went for a dozen other perceived deficiencies. Half his critics wanted war with the Chinese — the other half wanted Martindale out of the White House and
When the news came over CNN that China and Korea had exchanged missiles, Rebecca thought the world was going to end in the next thirty minutes — about the time it would take long-range sub-launched ICBMs to fly from Asia or Siberia to North America, or vice versa. She had never in her life felt so powerless. She stopped her packing and watched, mesmerized, as the reporters and anchors tried to keep on reporting developments in northeast Asia, even as they, too, knew that their planet could be on fire at any moment.
When the thirty minutes came and went, Rebecca felt enormous relief. Maybe cooler heads were going to prevail here. Maybe everything would be all right. But then President Kim or some Chinese government official would get on the air and promise death, and her panic would start all over again.
“You know,” she heard a familiar voice say, “this is a really shitty office.” She turned and saw Rinc Seaver standing in her doorway, watching her.
Rebecca looked around, then nodded. Her office was a former storeroom on the top floor of the General James A. May hangar at Reno-Tahoe International Airport. It wasn’t the normal unit commander’s office, but she chose it and fixed it up because it overlooked the flight line and had better access to the maintenance teams downstairs, which were the lifeblood of any flying unit. “I’ve had bigger ones, nicer ones,” she said. “But it’s not the size that matters, it’s what you do with it.”
“Are we still talking about offices, Beck?” Rinc said with a smile.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe not.”
“I would certainly prefer to talk about us.”
She favored him with a smile in return, then motioned to the TV. “Have you been watching this? It’s incredible. One second I feel okay, and the next I think I can hear the nukes flying in.”
“I can’t watch it anymore,” Rinc said. “It’s driving me nuts, especially since I can’t do anything about it. Besides, I’m concerned about other things — other
“Hi yourself.”
She did not exactly return his kiss, and he could feel the tension in her body. His shoulders slumped as she turned away and began packing boxes again. “Either I’m losing my touch, or I’m losing
“I’m just distracted… pissed off… frustrated… take your pick,” Rebecca said. “I’m a full-time guardsman, Rinc. This was my job. I’ve never been fired from a job before in my life. And this was my first combat-coded command, something I’ve wanted since I started pilot training.”
“I know,” Rinc said. “What’s more, we lost our unit when we were doing our jobs better than anyone else. It sucks.”
Rebecca looked at Rinc. “You seem in a pretty good mood. Oh yeah, that’s right — you still have a job.”
“You can have one too, if you want,” Rinc said. “The company is thinking about putting another plane on the line. I talked to them about splitting hours. They provide decent benefits, we get the use of the planes at cost in case we set up some type of rating instruction, and we get to stay in town and…”
“I tried that once before — I found I didn’t like it,” Rebecca said. “I like military flying better. I like command even more.”
Rinc shrugged. “Why not accept the offer while you look around for another position?” he suggested. “We could use you, and we’d still be together.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so, which? The ‘we could use you’ part or the ‘we’d still be together’ part?”
“Rinc, sometimes you… dammit, sometimes
“Beck, we got tossed out of a job — we didn’t receive a death sentence, we didn’t get a red ‘A’ painted on our foreheads, we are still breathing,” Rinc said. “We can overcome everything else. Life goes on. We press on.”
“Well, I lost some things that were special to me,” Rebecca said. “My command, my career, my future.”
“But you can have that again. I’m offering you all of it. My bosses want you. I want you. The business is expanding, and there’s a future for you there if you want it.”
“Pushing another flying service? Forget it. I did that, back in New York. It wasn’t for me. I’ve worked hard to get my light colonel’s leaves and my own command, Rinc — I can’t just leave it and go to work for someone else.” She reached out and held his hand. “The California Air National Guard tanker wing is looking for a commander down in Riverside. They want to interview me. I think I’ve got a really good shot at it. KC-135Rs, maybe KC-10s in the future. Lots of missions, high visibility, lots of money.”
“And what do I do? Fly Stratobladders? No thanks,” Rinc said. “I’ve put in my time in support squadrons. I’m part owner of a good business here in Reno, and I get a stick and throttles and windows in my planes, even the little piston-powered ones. Why would I give that up?”
“How about for me?” Rebecca asked, a little crossly. “Do it so we can stay together. Start a branch of your flying service down there. Fly for the airlines — you have lots of experience, a commercial license, an Airline Transport Pilot rating. Get a corporate position. Or just come down and be with me. You’re a young guy. You can do anything you want. I don’t have as many opportunities as you, Rinc. When I find a good one, I have to go for it.” She could tell that not only was he
“It’s not that…”
“Bullshit. What is it, then? My age?”
“Hey, I’ve never thought of you as an ‘older woman,’” Rinc said angrily. “You know that. You’re as sexy and vibrant and hot as any college hard-body.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Rebecca asked. “C’mon, Rinc. Give it a try.”
“I don’t know,” Rinc said. Rebecca sensed that he was wrestling with an even greater dilemma than just their future together. “It’s just… well, I was getting a little tired of the Air Guard scene. I was looking forward to settling down and taking it easy with this little flying service in Reno.”
“Well, don’t fly for the Guard,” she said. “Do other stuff.”
“But I’d be exposed to it all the time, being with you. I’m not sure if I want that.”
“Why, for Christ’s sake? You don’t have to have anything to do with the Guard, except maybe a few social- type functions. You can handle that. Besides, if you’re doing your corporate or airline thing, you’ll probably be on the road most of the time anyway.”
“Yeah, but I’ll be involved because
“So? I still don’t get it.” She looked at him for several long moments; then: “What is it, Rodeo? Tell me.” He remained silent, his eyes darting back and forth as if reliving some horrible event in his life. Now she studied his
