The Gauntlet. Lindsay McKenna

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СКАЧАТЬ tautly, coming up behind him, “I suggest you get your hand off Ensign Rutledge. Right now.” What was the idiot going to do? Take a swing at her? Cam took a step back and tensed, almost expecting Martin to turn and punch him. The pilot’s face was livid when he whirled around. When he saw who it was, he looked startled.

      “Captain Sinclair…”

      “What were you going to do, Martin?”

      “Er, nothing, sir.” Martin backed away and shrugged weakly. “We…uh, were just talking.”

      His tone lethal, Cam said, “Let’s get a couple of things ironed out here and now, Martin. Ensign Rutledge has the finest academic record of all the students in this class, pilot or engineer. Got that?”

      Martin jerked his head in a nod.

      “Second, she has a degree in aeronautical engineering. Do you?”

      “No, sir—”

      “Third, the commandant makes out the flight schedule weekly. You will be flying with every test engineer a number of times, including Ensign Rutledge. Now, I suggest that if you’ve got a problem with the assignment, you talk to him directly.”

      Martin took another step back, pale. “Yes, sir.”

      “Dismissed, Martin.”

      Molly cringed at the iciness of Sinclair’s voice. A chill worked its way up her spine. He’d positioned himself near her chair, facing off with Martin.

      “Yes, sir!” Martin spun on his heel and left promptly.

      Molly released a breath of air, giving Cam a grateful look. “Thank you, Captain.”

      Cam stared at her. He saw the turmoil in her huge green eyes. Yet her voice was unruffled—soft, without any indication of how troubled she was by Martin’s attack. And an attack was what it had been. “You have a problem, Miss Rutledge.”

      Molly blinked belatedly. “Problem?”

      “Why didn’t you defend yourself?”

      Sinclair was pulverizingly male in a way that shook her. Molly turned around in her chair, facing him squarely. “I did.”

      Cam shook his head. “That’s twice Martin’s attacked you.”

      “He’s upset, that’s all.”

      “And you weren’t?”

      “Of course, but—”

      “What’s it take to get you to raise your voice and really defend yourself?”

      Shocked, Molly stared at him for a long, painful minute. “Captain, just because I’m not one of ‘the boys’ and don’t choose to act in an aggressive manner doesn’t mean I can’t defend myself.”

      “Really?” Cam drawled. “What were you going to do when Martin grabbed you by the shoulder? Sweetly ask him to let go?”

      “I suppose you think my retaliation should have been a fist in his face?”

      Cam nearly smiled. Nearly. So, she had some spunk, after all. “That would have been against regulations.”

      “I’m glad one of you macho jet jocks thought of that.”

      His mouth twitched. For the first time, Cam felt like laughing. It was a breathless discovery. Molly Rutledge sat there with that spun-gold hair, in her rumpled olive-green flight uniform and black boots, looking positively beautiful and defiant.

      “So, what would you have done if I hadn’t stepped in to save you?”

      Molly eyed him. “Save me? I had everything under control, Captain. Sooner or later, Lieutenant Martin would have eased off the throttle. I wasn’t giving him a reason for further aggression.”

      Cam shook his head. “Lady, you’ve got a lot to learn here at TPS. Don’t you understand that flight engineers have to defend themselves at all times? You’re responsible for the test that’s flown. A pilot can make your test look good or bad. And many times it’s hard to prove who’s at fault. Believe me, in the debriefing room after the flight, I see the test-pilot students trying to blame the engineer’s flight program for their poor performances.”

      “I know pilots don’t always fly well, Captain. They have bad days, too.”

      “A friendly piece of advice, Miss Rutledge—protect and fight for your territorial rights at all times, or these student test-pilots will eat you alive. You’ll get blamed for flight failures whether they’re your fault or not, and your grades will drop.”

      Shaken, Molly pursed her lips. “Captain, you obviously want me to get a good dose of male hormones into my bloodstream so I can be just as arrogant and aggressive as the guys I’m in class with. Well, I won’t. I’m a woman, and I respect my ability to handle situations in a different way.”

      “I’m not saying you’ve got to turn into a man. Just speak up for yourself—get feisty. You’re capable of that, aren’t you?”

      He was taunting her now. Molly hated the feeling Sinclair was invoking. “I will not turn to cursing or pushy and aggressive tactics to win my point. I’ll use logic and diplomacy.”

      If nothing else, Cam thought as he watched her, she was stubborn. “Logic and diplomacy get blown to hell in those debriefings, Ensign. For your sake, you’d better get a little spunk and assertiveness, if you’re hoping to stand the heat in that kitchen with those jocks.”

      Smarting beneath his assessment of her, Molly turned around in her chair. “Excuse me, Captain, but I’ve got work to do. Thank you for your advice, but I feel strongly about handling situations with tact, diplomacy and care.”

      An incredible urge to reach out and thread his fingers through her loose, silky hair struck Cam. He shook his head, wondering what had come over him. The feeling caught him off guard, and he snapped at her. “Then don’t expect me to come to your rescue next time. Good night, Ensign Rutledge.”

      “Good night.” Unhappily, Molly watched Cam turn away, leaving her alone in the huge computer facility. She fought the awful feeling of failure. She’d felt this way after washing out of flight school. Wasn’t there anything she could do right? Pressing her hand to her brow, she closed her eyes, the sting of tears behind her lids.

      Cam hesitated at the glass door, watching Molly press her hand against her eyes. Feeling like a first-class heel, he almost went back in to comfort her. No, he couldn’t do that. Still, his conscience gnawed at him. He shouldn’t have been so hard on her. Martin had done enough damage without Cam hitting her broadside with another salvo from another direction.

      Dammit! He stood, torn, watching as she sat at the terminal, her hands covering her face. Was she crying? She had every right to do so. Troubled, Cam put his hand on the door handle. As an instructor, he played a dual role with the students. First, he had to terrorize them enough to wring out their best, whatever that was. Second, he had to be a support system for them, to encourage them to surpass what they thought was their best. But he’d just gone in there and terrorized her.

      Irritated, СКАЧАТЬ