Declared Hostile - страница 24
Coach, lounging next to him, could have had the redhead, but he had bagged out. Fine, head on back, loser. And now Coach wanted the details. As Trench relived the night, many of them were fuzzy — and he couldn’t remember much anyway. He remembered the girls were completely blotto and literally bounced off the walls in silly hysterics in the early evening, but were mercifully still passed out when he slipped out in the morning. After the ouzo shots, however, he wasn’t sure about all that had happened—Did I do it with both of them? — and he didn’t like it. His head was still throbbing, and lying out in the sun wasn’t helping, but in his image-is-everything world he had to show the JOs what a stud he was, 24/7. Even to all-talk-and-no-action Coach.
“What do you want to do today?” Coach asked.
“I dunno… Dry out. Go back to the ship. Get a sunburn. Get laid.”
“In that order?”
Trench took a swig of water. “You had your chance, man.”
Coach said nothing. The other squadron pilots were playing water volleyball in the pool, which was lined with tourists sunning themselves in lounge chairs.
Trench noticed Macho come into the pool area from the jungle path. “Oh, shit,” he groaned. “Here comes Nurse Ratched.” Behind her was a girl, tall and trim… and Macho was talking to her! Together they walked up to the group of Firebird pilots poolside, and it appeared Macho was introducing the girl to them. She shook hands with each one.
Trench propped himself up on his elbows to see better. “You gotta be shittin’ me,” he muttered.
Coach was watching, too. “You think that’s the new guy?” They observed her for a few moments: long legs, flowing dark hair, and then a shot of the goods once she removed her beach cover-up.
“Whoo, baby,” Trench answered, a small smile forming on his lips.
Shane was excited to meet her new squadronmates. She just knew Tiffany was going to be her new BFF, and meeting these fleet aviators wasn’t as bad as they said it would be at Intel Officer school. They seemed nice, and clearly Commander Wilson was an inspirational leader. And surrounding them was a tropical paradise the like of which she only seen in the movies. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother.
“You ‘girls’ done with volleyball?” Macho asked the men.
“Just waiting to thump you,” Irish said in retort. “Let’s go!”
Macho whipped off her t-shirt and jumped in the water, while Irish smiled at Shane. “C’mon, Fung, you’re on our team!”
Shane looked about, nervous. Fearful of showing too much at this first meeting, she should have insisted on remaining at the condo. Boys looked at her body differently than they did other girls, had since middle school. She couldn’t help her height or what God gave her. Yes, her girlfriends always said, you are blessed, but there are worse problems for a girl to have. Shane Duncan, though, wanted to be known for her professional ability, and this first impression was not the one she had wanted to make.
“New guy, you in the squadron or not?” Irish persisted. From the water Macho looked at her quizzically, as if to say, What’s your problem?
Now sensing the eyes of everyone at the pool on her, Shane whispered to herself, “Let’s get this over with.” She quickly unbuttoned her cover-up and removed it. The black one-piece suit was at least sensible, and she kept her arms drawn in as she gingerly slid into the pool. She waded to the net on Irish’s team as two more guys joined them in the water.
“Macho, is this the new guy?” Trench asked with a friendly smile, looking eye-to-eye at VFA-16’s newest officer.
Macho’s plan was working. “Yeah, this is Shane Duncan. Shane, this is Mark ‘Trench’ Jones and John ‘Coach’ Madden.”
“Hi, sir,” Shane replied with a shy smile as she extended her hand awkwardly.
“Welcome aboard, Fung, and cut the ‘sir’ crap. We’re all JOs. You know what you’re doing, here?”
Shane nodded. He was cute, they all were. And Mark—Trench—was paying attention to her. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. She could relax with her new squadronmates.
