Victoria had flown her helicopter back from the ship on every one of her deployments. After six to nine months at sea, it was always a joy to see American land on the horizon and know that you were going to return to it.
But she had never been so happy to see land as she was now. Johnston Atoll lay ahead of them. The only problem was that she wasn’t one hundred percent sure they were going to make it.
“Fuel low light’s steady now, Boss,” Plug said with worry in his voice.
“I know…”
The island wasn’t much more than a flat rectangular patch of white sand that surrounded a long blacktop runway. There were a few charred buildings and hunks of twisted metal — the remains of the American air defense team that had been positioned on the island. Smoldering ash and several destroyed aircraft. The Chinese must have hit them recently. Victoria wondered if they had been sacrificed by the American war planners as part of the ruse.
The second helicopter in the formation called over the radio, “Dash Two is on fumes. Not sure we’ll get there, but we can see the beach.”
Victoria replied, “Just another minute. Single up engines if you have to.”
“We did.”
Plug looked out the window and depressed his transmit switch. He said, “Try going like this.” He began bobbing his body forward in rapid movements, pretending that it would make the helicopter move faster.
The pilot from Dash Two gave him the bird. “Some guys have no sense of humor.”
“Lead, Dash Two, we might need to ditch.”
“Roger,” was all Victoria said. It was their call. She was going for land.
Just a little closer. They were so close. The aquamarine ocean reflected bright sunlight below. The water was getting shallower. Dark patches of seaweed and coral reef. She felt a burning angst in her chest, an urge to get this damned aircraft on deck before it ran out of fuel. She winced in pain as she made a control input that caused her shoulder muscle to twitch. Plug still hadn’t realized she’d been hit — the blood was all down her right arm, out of his view — and she hadn’t bothered to say anything. A part of her knew that it was wrong to keep this information from him, but another part of her said, Suck it up, Victoria. We’re almost home.
A fireball of orange-yellow caught her eye in the distance. It was thousands of feet up in the sky. An air battle. Now several more fireballs were appearing near the first. Black smoke trailed pieces of aircraft as they fell to the earth. She didn’t know whose they were. She didn’t care. All she cared about was this island straight in front of her.
“Almost there, Boss. You good or you want me to take it?”
Plug had a suspicious tone in his voice now. The smart-ass tone was gone. He was leaning forward, trying to peer at her shoulder.
He said, “My controls.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, Boss. My controls. You’re hurt.”
He grabbed his cyclic and collective, and she could feel his inputs transferred to her own. She let go. “You’ve got it.” Her voice was tired and so was the rest of her.
“Fifty feet.” Plug switched his radio and made a call to the other helicopters. “I’m lining us up for the taxiway. Going for a running landing to keep some speed on in case we flame out.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
Victoria watched as the paved taxiway grew larger and larger in the glass chin bubble window at her feet.
“Parking brake.”
“Off.”
They touched down and slowed down, palm trees and unkept island brush on either side of the runway. Within a few minutes, all three helicopters had taxied to a flight line and shut down. Victoria got out of the aircraft and looked around. She was dizzy, and her muscles were cramped.
“Holy shit, Boss! You’re bleeding bad! Fetternut, you got a first aid kit?”
The rescue swimmer sat her down on the cabin floor of their parked aircraft. She had removed her helmet and taken her arm out of her flight suit — gingerly. A large gash was in her shoulder. Dark red blood and pus emanated from the center.
AWR1 Fetternut said, “I’m gonna fix you up, Boss. You just relax.”
She nodded, looking off into the distance. Her hair was a wet mess of tangles and oil. Her ears were ringing, as they always did after a long mission. She removed her leather flight gloves and wiped her eyes with her left hand. Her right was still as her aircrewman cleaned and bandaged her wounded shoulder.
The SEALs and aircrews were in a circle in the center of the three shut-down helicopters. Plug was dragging something over there. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it looked heavy. A few of them laughed when they saw it. Then she realized what he’d done. Plug had stored a Yeti cooler on her bird. He removed several bottles of liquor, plastic cups, and a few bottles of soda.
The SEAL team commander approached her. “What’s your boy doing?”
She rolled her eyes, feeling like a mother who could never take her eyes off the problem child. “I don’t know.”
They motioned Plug to come over.
“You brought alcohol on the mission? I mean… how does something like that even enter your mind?”
He said, “What? I… I just figured if we lived, we’d want to celebrate.”
Victoria said, “What if we need to fly again?”
“Boss, look at this place. We’re done flying. The only thing that’s gonna happen now is we either get rescued or starve here.”
“They could take us back to Hawaii and ask us to fly again.”
Plug smirked. “Well, not right away. That would violate my precious crew rest.” He pointed at the beach, which was only fifty yards away. “Or if the Chinese show up… wouldn’t it be better to be a little buzzed?”
The SEAL commander said, “Kid’s got a point.” He looked out over the waves. The island was deathly quiet, save for the crash of waves and the distant roar of fighter jets. “I tell you what. Get everyone a drink and round them up over here.”
Victoria shot the SEAL commander a questioning look. He shrugged.
AWR1 finished patching up Victoria’s shoulder. “There you go, Boss. That’s the best I can do. You should see a doctor when we get back. I think they’ll need to pick some more pieces out of there, unfortunately.”
“Thanks.”
The DEVGRU SEALs and helicopter crews gathered around. Everyone raised their plastic cups as he said, “In memory of the warriors who perished beside us today.”
Cups were raised in front of tired faces. Plug and a few others were in a celebratory mood, but most were somber. Some refrained from partaking in the toast, but most took sips of Plug’s whiskey in respectful silence.
Victoria felt the warmth of the liquor hit her belly and was instantly light-headed. Her stomach was empty, which didn’t help.
She announced to the group, “Stay close. We should expect a SAR attempt within the next few hours.”
Nods and smiles. Somber eyes. A group mourning the loss of their brothers but elated to be alive, all at once.
Victoria said, “Screw it.” She walked over to the cooler and filled her cup, then headed over to the beach with a few of the other aviators. They drank and relived the mission, watching the waves and distant air battle. Wondering what would come next in the day. And in the world.
39
Jinshan stood on a wooden deck overlooking the mountains. His security chief had strenuously objected to the outdoor excursion, but Jinshan had overruled him. It was only a thirty-minute walk, and unplanned. He needed to clear his mind.