No Quarter Given (SSE 667) (11 page)

Griff climbed out first, moving around to the nose of the trainer, finishing out his report and grade on her. When Dana didn't move, he scowled and came around to the port side of the trainer.

"Coulter?"

"I'm coming." Dana willed herself to move. Feeling incredibly weak, she was afraid she'd collapse. Grasping the windshield and side of the cockpit, she forced herself to stand. Her knees were shaking so badly she wanted to sit back down again, but Griff's glare made her decide otherwise. As she stepped onto the wing, Dana was afraid to see the grade he'd given her. Wiping her hands on the damp thighs of her flight suit, she forced herself to take off the helmet. Her hair was wet, plastered against her skull beneath the cotton helmet liner.

Griff came forward, thrusting the board toward her. She took it with a trembling hand.

"You can't take this, Coulter."

Dana's entire focus moved to the grading box. A 2.0! At least he hadn't failed her. Not yet. The last three landings had been decent, but not great. Those he'd graded as 2.1s. All the others were 1.9s. The average came out to a barely passing grade. Swallowing back the sudden tears of relief, Dana searched numbly for the pen in the pocket of her left sleeve.

"Here," Griff growled impatiently. "Sign the damn thing. I'm in a hurry. I've got things to do."

Stung, Dana took his pen, her name illegible because of her shaking hand.

Taking back the board, Griff pinned her with a dark look. "Admit it. You can't make the grade, Coulter."

Her nostrils flaring, Dana held his gray gaze. "I'll make it." The words were bitten off and flung back at him.

"I'm not putting up with another two hours of airsickness from you."

"I'll make sure I don't get sick."

"You don't get it, do you?" he rasped. She looked frail and pale, standing there, the suit clinging to her tense form. "Students like you never make it. Your body isn't adjusting to flying. It's just a matter of time before I wash you out."

The irony that it might be her body betraying her ability to get her wings frustrated Dana to the point of tears. She swallowed hard, holding Griff's accusing look. "Lieutenant, I'm not giving up. I'm not throwing in the towel." She jabbed a finger at him. "Dammit, I'm not a weakling! You've accused me of it enough that I swear I'll never quit."

He flung her a lethal smile. "If you don't, I'll make sure you do."

Dana's eyes widened enormously. As he turned away, she reached out, jerking him to a halt. "Is that a threat, Lieutenant? I've heard that kind of tone before, and I don't like it. If you try and wash me out for any reason other than a fair one, I'll press charges."

Griff froze, glaring down at her. The set of her mouth and those blue eyes narrowed with defiance told him she was serious. Wrenching his arm out of the grasp of her hand, he snarled, "Coulter, you're going to fail yourself. I'm not going to have to do it for you. Airsick students don't last more than two weeks."

Dana stood there, her chest heaving with the need to cry. Damn him! She spun away, heading back to the trainer to pick up her helmet bag and the embarrassing burp bags. AVM Parker was standing there, holding them out to her.

"You okay, ma'am?" he inquired.

"I'm fine."

Parker shrugged his thin shoulders and offered her a slight smile. "Buck up, Miss Coulter. He gave you a passing grade, didn't he?"

"Yes."
Barely.

"You know he Boarded both his other students on this last session, didn't you?"

Stunned, Dana stared up at the young crew chief. "Uh, no. No, I didn't."

"Mr. Turcotte's a stickler on learning landing procedures. You know, he was Top Gun at Miramar two years ago."

Dana's heart sank. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yes, ma'am. He's a Top Gun. One of our best." Parker offered her a bit more of a hesitant smile as he patted the trainer affectionately. "If you can see his job through his eyes, and what he was to accomplish with you in six short weeks, maybe you can understand his driving need to qualify you. It's a hard, thankless job. I watched your landings. You did pretty good for a first time."

Tension bled out of Dana. She knew she had a friend in Parker, and she was grateful for the information about Griff. "I—thanks, Parker."

"You got a little problem with airsickness?" With a groan, Dana said, "It's not a little problem." "It'll go away, Miss Coulter. Don't you worry about it." He watched Griff in the distance. "Be strong for him. If you are, he won't fail you."

Strong.
Dana quietly thanked Parker and dragged herself back to the ready-room locker area. How could she maintain this degree of high emotional drama every other day and survive? The last hour had been accomplished on nothing but pure adrenaline. Suddenly, Dana was whipped. After taking a hot shower and changing into her summer uniform, she felt numb. Forcing herself to move, she hurried to make her class on egress procedure.

***

Griff watched Dana critically as she circled the trainer Friday morning. She looked pale as hell. Her hands shook as she took the discrepancy log from Parker and signed it off. Guilt nagged at him. He'd made up his mind that if she was airsick today, he was going to force her to quit. Still, the stubborn set of her mouth and her blue eyes armed with challenge gave him second thoughts. He'd find out soon enough if the airsickness problem was going to gradually fade away, or remain.

Dana was all business in the cockpit. She'd barely slept the past two nights, having nightmares about getting a 1.9 from Griff for not landing correctly. Worse, she was in a heightened state of panic about her airsickness. Manny had told her that a lot of other students had acute airsickness and had gotten over it. Ignoring the building cumulus hanging around the airport, Dana concentrated on the takeoff. It was perfect! As she had done so many times throughout her restless nights of sleep, she automatically went through the motions of flying. Griff was deadly quiet, but Dana had come to expect that—until she did something wrong. Then he'd leap on her without mercy. Would she get sick? Griff would Board her if she did, and he'd have a right to do it. There was nothing she could do to appeal his decision.

To her delight, the takeoff had been uneventful. Only silence sounded in the headphones. Dana was about to ask what he wanted her to do when he said, "Touch and go's, Coulter."

The battle lines were drawn. The trainer shook and shuddered as it hit a series of air pockets.

"Level it out!"

Immediately Dana corrected, getting the wings level again.

"You're too high!"

Her gaze shot to the altimeter. She was thirty feet above the correct altitude. Down went the nose.

"Make it smoother, Coulter. Don't jerk my plane around like that."

His plane.
Dana wanted to cram it down his throat. Her stomach rolled ominously as she entered another series of airpockets. She called the tower for landing permission and got it. Other trainers were about a quarter mile in front of and behind her. The turbulence of being so close to other planes was increasing by the second. Dana pulled back in the throttle and tried to stop closing in on the other aircraft. Why was it slowing down? Stymied, she got into trouble because with loss of power, the trainer began to lose altitude.

"Get this plane up to altitude!" Griff snapped.

Dana pushed the throttle forward. "But we're closing too fast on that other trainer!"

"He'll get out of your way in time," Griff drawled. "Just stay in line and don't screw it up."

The trainer hit another violent air pocket. Dana became just as violently ill. She heard Griff curse and take the controls from her, yanking the trainer around in a tight bank and taking them out of the landing pattern.

"That's it, Coulter!"

Gripping her stomach, Dana gasped, "No it's not!"

"Ensign, you're grounded."

Despair washed over Dana as Turcotte landed the plane and taxied them back to the ramp. Anger overwhelmed her as they descended from the aircraft. Parker gave them a worried look but said nothing, going to service the trainer. Griff stalked off without a word. Dana ran to catch up, gripping his arm.

"Just what the hell do you think you're going to do?"

Griff wheeled around. "Ensign, you are a medical liability. I intend to recommend to the Board that you be relieved of your student status and sent somewhere else. Face it: You're cut out to be a swimmer, not a flyer."

Enraged, Dana leaped forward, jabbing her finger into his broad chest. "Lieutenant, I'm not Carol Turcotte."

Griff blinked, assimilating her tortured cry. He saw the tears in Dana's eyes and winced.

"I'm not weak, and I'm not a quitter. And I wasn't born with a damn silver spoon in my mouth, either. I expect to earn my way through life. Do you understand me? And I'll be damned if a pigheaded instructor who's angry over his divorce is going to nail
me
in order to get even! Do we understand each other, mister?" The tone of voice she took was that of an upperclassman to a plebe back at the academy. Griff looked as if he were in shock.

Dana backed off. "I intend to go to Dr. Collins right now and tell him about my airsickness. If you try and hang me before I get an official response from him, I'll slap you and VT2 with a sexual-harassment suit it will never survive."

Griff studied her in angry silence. Technically, Dana was correct. But dammit, she'd dragged up Carol's name and thrown it into the arena of their combat issues. God, but Dana was a fighter. Admiration warred with his fury. "You do that, Ensign. Have Dr. Collins call me with his assessment."

She eyed him warily. "And if he okays me for flight status?"

"Then we fly."

"What kind of grade am I getting today?" Griff almost smiled. Dana never let up. If he'd been in her shoes, he'd have asked the very same question. "Incomplete."

"Fair enough." Dana started to walk away. "Ensign?"

Halting, she turned slowly in his direction. "Yes, sir?"

"Don't ever bring up my wife's name again."

"Then don't ever compare me to her again." Dana saw her comment hit him like a bomb. Taking advantage of the silence, she added, "Try to see me as Dana Coulter—not every other woman in your life."

Griff pondered their angry exchange as he watched Dana walk away. He was furious with her; and yet, her strength was something he'd never encountered in any woman, except perhaps his mother. Behind him, he heard Parker begin to service the trainer. The crew chief was young, but enthusiastic about his duties.

"Parker?"

The crew chief was at the top of the ladder. "Yes, sir?"

Griff walked back over toward the plane. "You've been here at Whiting how long?"

"Almost three years, Mr. Turcotte."

"And you've seen a lot of flight students come and go?"

With a smile, Parker nodded. "Plenty of them, sir."

Griff mulled over his next question. Ordinarily, he'd never consult an enlisted person about one of his students, but he needed a double check on Dana.

"What's your assessment of Ensign Coulter?"

"She's got what it takes, sir."

"No question in your mind?"

Parker's smile broadened. "Sir, despite her being sick, she's flying well. I was watching the two of you in the flight pattern earlier. If she can hang in there, I think she'll do it. Don't you?"

Griff scowled. "I don't know, Parker. Thanks..." And he turned away, heading back to the ready room. Parker's enthusiasm over Dana dampened him considerably. The crew chief had a lot of time around Whiting, and had worked with more students than Griff had on the walk-around. Griff knew from his own experience that enlisted people with time in grade often knew more than the officer in charge. Disgruntled, he walked past the sentry, flashing his identification. What would the flight surgeon recommend on Dana's case? Would he ground her? Griff sincerely hoped so.

***

"Ensign, you're suffering from acute airsickness," Dr. Collins said.

Relief made Dana sag against her chair, across the desk from the officer. "When will it go away?"

Collins shrugged. "It's different for everyone. I'd say that in another week or so you'll be over the worst of it."

"What will make it go away faster?"

"More flights."

Dana grinned. "You're serious?"

Collins smiled back and rubbed the bridge of his prominent nose. "Word's gone around about the battle between you and Lieutenant Turcotte."

"It's more like a war, sir."

"He's an excellent instructor with a lot of pressure on him recently."

Dana studied the doctor and realized he wasn't going to say anything more. "Well, sir, I don't think there's a student here who isn't under equal pressure."

"I would agree with you, Ensign."

"So your prescription for me?"

"Fly every day until you get over the airsickness."

"Will you put that in writing?"

Collins's grin widened. "Yes, I will."

***

On the way to the chow hall at noon, Dana met Molly. Maggie was still out on a flight.

"Hey, did I hear some scuttlebutt about the Turk!" Molly told her conspiratorially after they sat down at the table to eat.

Still upset from the morning flight with Griff, Dana picked at the fried chicken in front of her. The chow hall rang with talk but little laughter. Flying was serious business, and the students were low-key and uptight.

"What did you hear?"

"I was over at the library earlier and read an article in the newspaper. Two and a half weeks ago a Lieutenant Toby Lammerding was killed in an air accident over at Pensacola. He was teaching a woman student to fly." Molly frowned. "It mentioned in the article that Griff Turcotte was a close friend to Toby's family and would deliver the eulogy in Atlanta, Georgia, at his funeral. Get this, Dana: The day you tangled at the airport with that thief was the day Turcotte was coming back from his best friend's funeral."

"My God," Dana whispered. Rapidly the pieces fell into place. "His wife divorced him six months ago. His best friend was killed while teaching a woman student a few weeks ago." Shutting her eyes tightly, Dana added, "No wonder he's having trouble dealing with me. I'm Carol and I'm the woman who killed his best friend all wrapped up into one."