Chapter 6
SAMANTHA
It was really hard not to jump up and down while squealing like a five-year-old meeting Mickey Mouse for the first time.
I couldn’t believe I had actually gotten to ride in Fat Albert.
Was it in or on? I didn’t know. I was freaking out and anxious to call my dad and report in on the ride.
One of the communications members for the Blue Angels told me I couldn’t take pictures inside the plane, but I was welcome to photograph the outside.
I climbed out of the plane and moved out of the way of the crew that was moving into place to start unloading the cargo.
The suitcases for the Blue Angels pilots were being unloaded.
I had to pinch myself. I tried to be as small as possible.
These people did this all the time. It was just another Friday for them.
For me, it was a dream come true to be on the plane.
“Look!” I whisper-shouted. I aimed the phone’s camera up to get as much of the plane behind me.
“How was it?” he asked excitedly.
“It was so awesome!”
“Are you going to get one of the uniforms?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I could but I don’t want anyone thinking I’m stomping all over their territory. They’ve all worked hard to get to where they are.”
“So have you,” he countered.
“Yes, but I don’t have their same experiences. I’m good with the T-shirts and polos. I also have to make sure they know I’m not their friend or coworker. I’m an inspector.”
“Oh, hon,” he said. “I know you have to do your job. It’s an important job, but sometimes, it’s okay to have a little fun.
You don’t have to be a hardass all the time.
You can still be friendly with the people you’re going to be spending the rest of the summer with.
I’m not suggesting you be best friends, but it might make the experience better for everyone. ”
“I don’t think they are interested in being friends,” I said. “They have all known each other for a long time. They are all military. I’m an outsider. I don’t have to follow the same rules or answer to the same people. In my experience, that makes them just a little bitter.”
“You’ve been around planes your whole life,” he said. “It’s not like you don’t have anything to talk about with them. Just let down your guard a little. Once it’s time to go to work, do your thing. You can be stern and by the book and have fun.”
“We’ll see,” I said. “I did talk to a few of the support staff on the flight over. One of the young ladies is very nice. She does hotel arrangements and stuff like that.”
“Good, maybe the two of you can get dinner together.”
“Maybe,” I said.
I didn’t want him to worry about me. I really was having a great time. I didn’t mind that I was the odd man out. How could anyone feel sad when they were surrounded by elite aircraft?
“Have a good night and I hope the show goes well tomorrow,” he said.
“Thanks, Dad. I love you.”
After hanging up, I spotted the young woman I had met on the plane. “Cara!” I called out.
She had a tablet in her hand and was directing the loading of luggage into a shuttle van. “Hey,” she said. “What’s up?”
“Will all the bags be going to the hotel?”
“Yes,” she said.
“I want to stay and take a look at a couple things. I can keep my suitcase here,” I offered.
“No worries,” she replied. “Other team members will be going over later. It looks like you’ll have your own room. I’ll have them put your suitcase in your room. You’ll need to check in at the front desk to get your key.”
“Thank you,” I said. “That is very helpful. I truly appreciate it.”
“No worries,” she said and went right back to directing the crew with the luggage.
I wanted to check out the jets. I knew I was going to be in early tomorrow, but I had given the techs a list of things I wanted fixed before the show.
It didn’t make me happy they’d put it off as long as they did.
While it wasn’t a big deal, a gauge being off by even a tiny bit could lead to other problems. Calibrating was just part of the process.
It couldn’t be shrugged off. I didn’t care if it looked okay.
The crew was scattered around the massive hangar.
Every time I saw the blue and yellow F-18s, I got a little shiver of excitement.
It was incredible to think of the power the machines held.
Some days I wished I would have buckled down a bit more back in high school.
I could have lost a few pounds and made it into the Naval flight academy.
I knew the competition was cutthroat, but I was good.
I knew more about these jets than any of these pilots.
There was no doubt in my mind I could fly one, given the training.
Well, I could have. I was afraid teaching an old dog new tricks was just not going to happen.
But I got the next best thing. I was surrounded by the coolest aircraft on the planet.
I wandered into the hangar that was relatively empty.
There were some crew workers meandering about but basically, it was just me and the beautiful F-18s. I was geeking out pretty hard.
I ran my hand over the perfect paint on the jet and was looking up at the nose when I ran into something hard. “Excuse you,” a deep voice said.
“Oh gosh!” I gasped and jumped back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
The man that had been leaving me feeling just a little off stared down at me. “I noticed.”
“I was just going to do a quick inspection to see if they fixed that little paint patch on the left wing,” I blurted out.
“You check paint?” he said.
I frowned. “Peeling paint or damage caused by who knows what can lead to corrosion. Do you want to be flying and have your wing disintegrate?”
“That’s dramatic,” he said.
“My job is a little dramatic,” I said. “I’m paid to look into the future. I’m supposed to look at all the components that keep this bad boy in the air. I need to predict what could happen if this or that isn’t right.”
I got the feeling he wasn’t listening to me. His eyes were sweeping over my body with a focus on my boobs. I’d been looked at before, but this felt like he was judging just how many bites it would take to eat me whole.
“Well, you don’t need to worry about this one,” he said.
“Excuse me?” I asked with my voice a little higher than usual.
“Number Five will not be going up tomorrow. You can caress it all you want. Or I could offer you something else to caress.”
I glared at him. “Mitchell—”
“Please, call me Dice or Mitch,” he said. “Mitchell is what my mother called me when I was in trouble. No one calls me Mitchell.”
“Dice!” someone called out before I could say anything more. The man had the audacity to smirk and look at my boobs again.
Two of the other pilots joined us. “We’ll go with you,” the female pilot said.
I felt like this was my time to exit. They weren’t talking to me. “Excuse me,” I quietly said and was about to make my escape when the woman stopped me.
“Wait,” she said.
“Yes?” I asked. I assumed she had a question about something to do with her jet. She was Number Four.
“Come with us,” she said. “I’m Darby or as the team calls me, Medusa. We haven’t had a chance to talk. Us girls got to stick together.”
From what I had seen, there were quite a few women on the crew, as well as the comms director and the flight surgeon.
I didn’t know how to respond.
“We’re taking Dice out to blow off some steam,” Watch Dog said with a flirty grin.
He had been very friendly the last week during our interactions.
I saw him as someone that could actually be a friend.
And he didn’t stare at my boobs like Mitch and his buddy Edwin.
I knew PitA’s name because he was someone I knew I had to keep my eye on.
“Come with us,” Medusa said. “We need to balance out the scales a bit.”
Dad had told me to go out and have fun. “Don’t you guys have to be on deck early?” I asked.
“They do,” Mitch said with obvious frustration. “I don’t.”
“We’re going to babysit.” Medusa laughed. “Dice here has a tendency to get himself into some dicey situations.”
And then it clicked. Dice. Because he was dicey in the air and apparently on the ground as well. “Thank you,” I said. “I’d like that.”
An hour later, I found myself sitting in a bar with three Blue Angels. If someone would have told me this was going to happen to me, I would have laughed. But here I was sipping a martini and listening to some of their wild horror stories.
“I hope that’s not vodka,” someone said.
I looked up and immediately felt guilty. Then I realized he wasn’t talking to me. He was the maintenance supervisor. Medusa held up her glass. “No, sir, club soda,” she said.
He looked at Mitch’s drink. “That’s not club soda.”
Mitch defiantly took a long drink from the glass that I knew was Jack and Coke. His second glass at that. “Good guess,” he said.
“What’s going on?” the man asked.
“My ass will be on the ground next to Number Seven tomorrow,” Mitch shot back.
The man nodded. “I hope you’re feeling better soon.”
I wasn’t sure if he knew why Mitch was on the ground.
In my short time with the squad, I had learned gossip spread faster than it did in high school.
Just like in high school, I felt like I was out of place.
I was sitting at the cool kids’ table. I didn’t belong.
I noticed a few other crew that had flown in with me on Fat Albert.
They were keeping to themselves. The pilots were separated from the rest.
“So, Samantha,” Watch Dog said.
“You can call me Sam,” I said. “No one calls me Samantha.”
“Sam,” he said. “I like it. What exactly do you do?”
“I’m a mechanical inspector,” I answered. I thought that had already been established.
“But you’re not a pilot?”
“I’m a pilot, but not a Naval pilot. I’m not military.”
“How did you get involved with jets?” Medusa asked.
“When I was in school, we had a guy from the Navy come in. It just kind of took off from there. I worked with a private company for a couple years. One thing led to another and I found myself becoming a private contractor.”
“You don’t work for anyone?” Mitch asked.
“I work for the clients that hire me,” I said.
“Like who?” Watch Dog asked. He sounded genuinely interested. No one was ever interested in my credentials.
“I worked with Boeing for a bit,” I said. “I’ve done some work for the government in a variety of capacities.”
“Which is code for, she can’t tell us because we don’t have the clearance.” Medusa laughed. “Damn. We’re sitting with one of the bigshots and we didn’t even know it. Do you do any of the designs or engineering?”
“No,” I answered. “I consult. I let the potential buyers of certain things know if it is plausible or snake oil.”
They all laughed.
“For not being military, you sure know how to answer a question without answering a question,” Medusa said.
“I think that’s a politician,” Watch Dog corrected. “We’re probably sitting with the future Secretary of State or someone high up in the Department of Defense.”
“Uh, or president,” Medusa shot back.
I felt like I had just been accepted. Finally. The next four months could be very fun.