to see the positive, healthy side of Akiva on that day.
She loved kids, big or small. When he had stood back, out of sight, he’d seen her open up to them in a way he’d never seen her do with the squadron. Joe had never seen Akiva smile, joke, gently tease or extend herself as she did with the many children who’d surrounded her the moment they walked into each village. She had hard candy in bright, colorful wrappers in her pockets, and she would hand a piece to each begging child.
Later, Joe had seen her hold babies and children whom Paredes had to work with medically. How gentle and tender Akiva had been with those little ones. Joe had mentally photographed that day into his heart. He was glad he’d seen Akiva let down her armored barriers; it served to remind him that beneath that warrior’s facade was a vulnerable woman of immense ability to reach out and love others. And it also told him that her toughness was a protection. He had held back a lot of personal questions he wanted to ask her about her growing up years. Based upon his own struggles as a kid, he knew that events, good or bad, shaped each person during the formative years. His instincts told him that Akiva had had a hellacious childhood, probably one that would have shattered another child. He figured it was her tough Apache blood that had helped her to survive it.
“What are we going to do about medical emergencies?” Joe wondered aloud. He held her stare. “You got any ideas about that?”
“No…I haven’t even thought about that….” she admitted. Akiva was proud of Joe for remembering such an important detail. At least he was thinking for the good of all, which Akiva knew wasn’t typical of a white male.
“Do you want me to talk to the doc at the medical facility?” he offered.
“Yes, why don’t you? We have Sergeant Paredes, but she’s the only paramedic here. I don’t think Major Stevenson wants to give her up to us.”
Joe nodded. “Yeah, I understand why she wouldn’t. If a crew member on one of the Apaches gets wounded, Paredes needs to be here to help the doctor do what she can for them.”
Akiva sat back and felt herself relax. It had to be due to Joe’s quiet demeanor, she decided. Of all the white men she’d ever met, he somehow helped her to let go of most of her protective armor. But Akiva would never let all that armor dissolve. Not ever. White men hurt women; it was that simple. “See what you can find out.”
Nodding, Joe said, “Yes, I will, and then I’ll let you know what the doc suggests.”
“I hate the idea of being out there in the middle of that jungle with no medical resources. Any of us could get hurt. One of the ground crew could get sick…. This is something we need to plan an SOP for.”
Joe raised his brows and gave her a hopeful look. “How about if I do the legwork on this problem? Can you trust me to come up with a game plan?” He knew from working with Akiva before that she did not trust him. Trust was something she didn’t hand to a man under any circumstances, Joe knew. He watched her wrestle with his request. A good C.O. knew how to delegate. Would she allow him to tackle this one, small element without her micromanaging it?
“Yeah…okay. Do it. I’ve got my hands full with other stuff right now.” Akiva felt a ribbon of heat flow through her when she saw his mouth pull into a smile. She didn’t want to feel good because he smiled, but she did.
“What’s the ETA—estimated time of arrival—on leaving for Alpha?”
“One week, if we get our stuff together on this.”
“Good, I can hardly wait.” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
Alpha Base was a terrible disappointment to Akiva. She’d flown the Apache Longbow down into the hole in the canopy, skimmed among the towering trees and landed on the overgrown, dirt airstrip near several buildings built out of corrugated tin and poles strung together haphazardly with nails and wire. Sergeant Mandy Cooper, the crew chief for the ground personnel, had flown the back seat with her.
Joe had flown the Blackhawk helicopter, setting it down two rotor lengths away from the Apache. The rest of the base personnel had flown in with him, along with a lot of supplies. He’d joined Akiva as they walked to their new home.
“Not much to it, is there?” Akiva said as she strode across the long, tangled grass, which grasped at her booted feet.
Joe eyed the main building, a hangar. “Bubble gum, paper clips and a lotta prayers, from the looks of it.” He purposely walked at Akiva’s speed, which was a fast stride. Today she wore that war ax on the belt around her waist, along with a leather scabbard on the other hip that contained a very old bowie knife. From Joe’s understanding, Maya had allowed her to wear the weapons that had been passed down through her warrior family. Like him, Akiva wore a side arm in a black leather holster, along with a flak vest, known as a chicken plate, on the upper part of her body. As they crossed the grassy strip, he shrugged out of his own chicken plate and held it in his left hand as he surveyed their surroundings.
There were four buildings, the hangar being the largest. It could easily house both helos, effectively hiding them from prying eyes in the sky. The week before they’d flown to their new home, the Blackhawk had been the workhorse, bringing all the equipment and food that the crew would need to set up housekeeping.
Joe saw the three enlisted women hurrying to catch up with them. The looks of excitement and curiosity on their faces as they trotted across the thick green grass in their camouflage uniforms mirrored how he felt inside. As he glanced at Akiva’s profile, he saw the same look on her face, too.
“I’m feelin’ like a kid in a candy store,” he said with a laugh.
Giving him a sidelong glance, Akiva tried not to allow Joe’s laughter to affect her. But it did, in a good way. “We need to split up, take inventory, and then get back together later, wherever my office is going to be. We need to assess what’s missing or what has to be done next.” Akiva had been told they had a week to come online, ready to start interdiction missions. That wasn’t long.
Nodding, Joe erased his smile and closeted his thrill over the assignment. Akiva was all business. He could see the cloak of command settling over her proud shoulders. It wasn’t an easy cape to wear, he was discovering, even as X.O. His own job would be to handle the day-to-day workings of the three-woman crew, plus the scheduling of flights. As he saw it, he was to leave Akiva free to do planning and strategy for the missions. More than anything, he didn’t want to be one more thing she needed to worry about. The past week, he’d seen the awareness in her eyes of just how much responsibility she was charged with on this mission. In one way, it was good, because that didn’t leave her much time or energy to snap and snarl at him. She was too busy with planning.
Approaching the hangar, which was just three walls and a roof of corrugated tin, Joe stopped and looked at it more critically.
Akiva moved onto the hard-packed dirt floor of the building. Spotting several doors on one side, she went over and opened them. Good. Behind each, she found a small office. Each held a green, military-issue desk, paper, pens and the necessary things to make paperwork flow. The other crew members would each have an office to work from as well. She left Joe to look around, and continued her inspection of the new base by heading through another door into an alley between the hangar and the next largest building. It would serve as living quarters, mess hall and offices for the three enlisted women, Akiva realized. The sleeping quarters weren’t much to rave about, she discovered as she opened a recently erected door in a plywood wall. There were three metal cots with green army blankets and a pillow on each, and that was it. A shower had been
