Star Girl (14 page)

          Dan explains to me after all the staff have left, that they have a rule about flying the Blackbird. Majors and up only. They had to buck my promotion way early so I could qualify on the bird. Because we are in the lounge I give him a big hug and a tender kiss on his cheek. Of course all the other guys are lining up for this special treatment too, and I hug and kiss all my family of wonderful guys.

          The very next morning Dan takes me out to the Blackbird, and gives me ground school the old way again, as they always do. Then he takes me to a locker room in the back of the hangar, and he fits me for a pressure suit and space helmet. He doesn’t just hand me they keys as before on all the other birds, no, he takes me up for the first ride, and he is explaining the utterly complex flight envelope of the bird. It is a very narrow envelope, and the bird has to be flown at high speed, and high altitude to be anywhere near the optimal parameters.

          Dan takes me way out over the Pacific and up, and up, and up. Pretty soon I can see the curvature of the Earth easily, and blue sky turns to black space. The Blackbird is almost a space vehicle, very close. A sub-orbital craft as Dan says. It is over too quickly and we descend from heaven back down to the planet.

“So do you think you can remember all the critical protocol Romero?”

“Not just yet sir. Maybe after another ride. This thing is intense.”

“Rodger that.”

          It takes me two more rides before I have the flight parameters and procedure in basic grasp. My first time piloting was the best yet though. The Blackbird is now my very favorite. I send another e-mail to my other mom, Major Hanford, telling her that I now am qualified on the Blackbird. This she at least believes, and is very proud of me. She says the whole squadron still misses me and they all give me their love. I of course, had said similar in my letter.

          One day late the next October, Dan gets me alone at the lounge.

“Steph, what are your long term goals? Are you wishing to stay here and retire from the squadron some day?”

“No Dan. I love it here, and most especially I love you guys, but I can’t see getting fat on my ass here for twenty years.”

He nods with a big grin. “We have had a couple of younger thirty year old pilots come through here before Steph, never one as young as you.” He shakes his head. “They are not being given an early retirement like us old gas bags are. You are not being given an early retirement either. There is another place… a place for the very special youth to go.”

I hear him loud and clear, five by five! “YES!” I grab his firm muscular shoulders and I massage his muscles deeply as my face is wide with want. “Yes! Oh yes, oh yes…Oh please Dan… yes! That is the goddamn ticket I want punched! Please! Oh please oh please.”

He is chuckling and yet he is also relaxing his muscles with my grasp. “Ohhh…Okay… you got it Steph…ahhh.”

I look him deep in the eyes to make sure.

“Yes Romero! Okay? You better let go now…as I don’t know if I can resist.” He grits his teeth and I see the lust in his eyes. I let go quickly, it surprises me… from a fatherly figure to me… but then I surely know Dan is all man indeed. My mind does a somersault as I see his crotch is making a big damn tent, oh my god. I want to tell him to think of the Queen, or baseball, but he gets up and turns from me, then adjusting himself.

“Dan. I want this more than anything, please.”

“You got it Romero. The sky is no longer the limit for you.” He turns back around and gives me a big grin, the way he used to, and the lust is gone from his eyes. “One thing though Steph. This is a permanent assignment. You will retire from that duty station. There is no coming back once you are there.”

I nod smiling.

          I get my transfer orders, but they don’t say where I am being transferred to, no surprise there. I have one last week with my wonderful, virile old honchos. We don’t have but two war games before my last day, instead the guys all want to hang out and talk, and have a drink or two. So I let them drink, and I talk mostly, as I do love to run my mouth.

“It’s too bad we don’t get to have nicknames like the Navy does.”

“Oh, no. No, we are not like those salty seamen Steph. They need nick names because they don’t want people to know who they really are. We don’t need them because we are actual serious pilots. Besides, who the hell wants to be called Colonel ‘Bozo’ anyway?”

That makes me laugh. “But we could have cool nicknames you know. I always wanted to be called Jet Girl.”

“Jet Girl huh? I don’t think so Steph.” Dan shakes his head.

“Oh come on! That’s a good one.”

“Nope, I would say you got it all wrong. Not Jet Girl, but rather Star Girl, seeing as what lay ahead for you, perhaps.”

The other guys all chime in saying it, and oops, it seems to be sticking.

I like it, as it does have a catchy ring to it.

          The morning of my last day Dan meets me at breakfast, and tells me to eat light, as we have one last war game today. He then takes me out to the flight line after I change into my flight suit. The other guys are all there waiting for us, as is a very nasty bird. There is a Mig twenty nine Fulcrum on the tarmac as well today, and as we park I see a familiar face. I get out with huge shit eating grin and stride up to my old friend Colonel Tucker, and I snap him a sharp salute. He returns it and shakes my hand.

“Damn good to see you again Major Romero, how have you been?”

“Excellent! Outstanding Colonel. Thanks, and how about you?”

“Never better.”

“For a rusty old screw!” Ed adds in there with a chuckle.

Tucker laughs.

“So you came to play with us did you Colonel?” I ask.

“Oh, this is where I sharpen my skills Major. I try to get out here more often, but duty so often calls. However, I didn’t come here today for a refresher.” He shakes his head with a grin. “I came out today for my last chance at sweet revenge Romero. I am going to smoke your damn tail pilot!”

“Oh, it’s like that is it? All friendly one minute and now you want a piece of me.”

He laughs. “Down here Major, we will be the very best of friends, but up there.” He points up casually. “Your ass is mine.”

That makes me chuckle. “Oh goody, I get to shoot down another Mig.”

          With the trash talking done, we all get our teams together and make battle plans before lifting off. My bird for the day is a Falcon, and I can’t wait to show Major Tucker what I can do now. Of course we all engage as we would in a real situation, first come first served, but soon I see the Fulcrum turning to come for me. It’s on.

          Our dogfight becomes so heated that all the other guys back off and just watch the fun. Colonel Tucker just keeps pressing, and pressing to maneuver in on my tail, no matter what I do he just keeps coming, relentlessly. He really does desperately want a piece of my ass, but I don’t want to let him have it. Several times both of our birds brush the ground dangerously close, and yet we keep fighting. I almost have him a couple times, but he is so damn slippery, just like I remember he was before. Finally he pulls a maneuver that I have never seen before, one that melts my damn mind. He seems to almost let me start to get an angle on his six, but then he pops up vertical, and somehow manages to get his Fulcrum to actually somersault through the air! It slows his airspeed so quickly that I over shoot, and as I do; I can’t help but to be mesmerized by the stunt, just looking back in sheer awe at the impossible spectacle. Too late I realize he just pulled out of his somersaulting and is right on my six. An instant later my text alerts box tells me that I have just got my ass shot down, again.

          Back on the tarmac I shake my head at him in awe.

“You got to be kidding me?”

He laughs. “It was the only thing I could think of to get you Major. You are a goddamn slippery pilot!”

It makes my crispy, sore ass feel a little better.

          That night the squadron threw me a farewell party, and Tucker was there too. As were all the staff. It was the second time in my life when I got drunk, but it wasn’t as bad as the first time, because Dan cut me off when I started stumbling. It was a good time, and one that I will keep close to me for its warmth.

Chapter 8

          Midmorning I catch my flight from Edwards, to the desert north of Las Vegas. We land at Groom Lake Air Force base, which doesn’t exist, officially anyhow. It’s here, and so am I. A Lieutenant meets me, and takes me to my quarters. This BOQ is much like the one at Edwards, first class all the way. After I unpack, I go back down to have the Lieutenant take me to report to my new CO.

          My new Commanding Officer is a one star general by the name of Johnson. He has me take a seat after I salute him.

“Welcome to Groom Lake, or Area 51, which ever you wish to call it. Just never say those words off base ever. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir. Five by five.”

“Now, we have already had a very thorough background check performed on you Major. The rest of your clearance process will be handled by the FBI, after I’m done with you.”

Oh shit… that means they know I’m gay. Damn, I hope I didn’t just screw up by taking this assignment.

“You will be spending the next few days with ground school on the new craft you will be flying. After you are quickly qualified, as I have read your outstanding record Major, you will be flying every duty day, all day long. This isn’t like that country club you came from, we work here. We have a normal five day duty week, with additional duty quite often. Sleep when you can, eat when you can, and stay in shape on your down time. We need healthy, capable pilots because our task, as you will soon see; is huge. The things you will experience here will boggle your mind Major. If you have any concerns at all about anything, please let me know. There are some things which I may not discuss with you though, as everything out here is on a strict need to know basis. Any questions?”

“No sir.”

“Good, then the Lieutenant will take you to be sworn in and badged next. Get some chow and some rest afterwards, then we will start you on the ground school at oh seven hundred tomorrow. Dismissed.”

          The FBI guys finger print me, take retinal scans, DNA sample, hair sample, blood, CAT scans, and even a urine sample. Then they swear me to the utmost secrecy and have me sign the consent forms. Finally an agent comes and hands me my badge.

“Welcome to tomorrow land Major.”

With that the Lieutenant takes me to the chow hall, and asks if I would mind if he ate with me. I don’t.

“You are going to love it here Major. Just the craft you get to fly alone.” He smiles.

“That is exactly why I am here.”

“I know. Nobody leaves Edwards that doesn’t want the moon.”

“Yeah, that was a great place, but the pilots were what really made it special.”

“Major, I have to ask, please just ignore me if you wish though. How did you get the Silver Star?” He points to my chest.

“In Afghanistan, I saved my wingman from a missile, but it got me instead.”

“You were shot down?”

I nod. I can see he wants to ask about it more, but I really don’t feel like talking about it so much.

“Then I got a reprieve from the brass, and that’s how I wound up at Edwards.”

He shakes his head. “I have a hard time picturing you with those grizzled old test pilots.”

“They did too, at first. Then I showed them that I could fly nearly as well as them, and they took me in like their long lost daughter.”

It gets a chuckle from him. “May I ask sir, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty seven. How old are you Lieutenant Doyle?”

“Twenty six.”

I nod. He seems confused by how I certainly can’t have time in grade to be a Major. “I joined the Academy right when I just turned seventeen. My dad is a general with SAC, and he had me flying jets since I was thirteen. So I got some help with some folks bucking for me. It’s not fair, but it was what I had available to me.” I shrug and take another bite.

“Maybe, but they don’t hand out Silver Stars to just anybody Major.” He seems okay with it.

          After chow he stops me by the ready room to hopefully meet some of the other pilots in our squadron, known as the Double N’s. When I ask what that stands for, the Lieutenant tells me that it means ‘The No Names.’ Right away I see that the ready room and staff offices in the same building are bustling with work. Everyone is very professional looking and squared away, the pilots’ flight suits are a new type to me, and I can’t help but stare. The Lieutenant takes me and introduces me to our flight leader.

“Colonel Ham, this is your new pilot, Major Romero sir.”

“Thank you Doyle.” He looks me up and down, and freezes his eyes on my chest, on my medal. His eyes widen a little, and his brows raise. “Welcome to the Double N’s Major Romero.” He extends his hand to shake, with a warm smile.

“Thank you sir. I look forward to serving with you.” I shake his hand.

“We can sure use your help. Things are ramping up like crazy around here now. Get through that ground school ASAP Major, we need to get you qualified on our next gen bird right away.”