Firstborn. Lindsay McKenna

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СКАЧАТЬ Annie missed the great yawning silence of the reservation. There, one could hear the winds singing and sighing in the pines—the voices of the Tree Nation.

      As she stepped away from the huge hangar and stood on the red clay, facing east, Annie gazed down fondly at the necklace in her hands. It had been in her family for hundreds of years, passed down to the eldest daughter of each successive generation. It was a medicine necklace, one with mysterious power, beauty and healing qualities.

      Stringing the necklace between her hands, she lifted it breast high and closed her eyes. Annie grounded herself by imagining dark tree roots encircling her ankles and going down through her black leather flight boots deep into Mother Earth. Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “Father Sun, I honor you on this new day. Please guide me, help me to follow my heart and bless Mother Earth. Aho.”

      The necklace in her hands grew very warm. Annie was used to feeling her fingers tingle as she recited the ancient prayer. The heat soon increased and she felt the energy flow gently up her arms. A familiar calming sensation moved into her chest and remained there, like a warm, fuzzy blanket from childhood, one her mother had tucked around her at night.

      High above, Annie heard the shriek of a red-tailed hawk. Opening her eyes, she gazed into the pale blue sky, which was misted over by the high humidity of the July morning, and saw a mature red-tail circling. Its wings were outstretched and its rust-red tail fanned as it floated on an up-draft of warm air. Lips lifting into a smile, Annie called, “Ho, little brother, what message do you bring me?”

      She knew that when an animal showed up after her morning prayer, it was a message from the Great Spirit. What exactly it meant, she didn’t know, but she always paid attention and tried to figure it out. Closing her eyes, she pictured the hawk in her third eye, located in the middle of her brow. An unsettling sensation blanketed her. Frowning, Annie opened her eyes. When she looked up again, the hawk was gone.

      Odd. Annie didn’t like the feeling cloaking her. Was that the message the hawk had come to tell her? That she should be unsettled? Unsure? She felt as if lightning had struck nearby and shaken her up. Birds were always considered messengers, bringing a warning, good or bad, of things to come. Usually within hours of their appearance Annie knew she would receive word, either in person or through a phone call, a letter or e-mail, of something or someone coming into her life.

      Unzipping the right thigh pocket to her dark green flight uniform, Annie pulled out a soft brown deerskin pouch. Lifting the necklace, she gently tucked it back into the pouch and returned it to her pocket. The first rays of Father Sun were streaking across the tips of the elms and maples. It was now 0600 and the day had begun in earnest. All flying was done early in the morning when the air was still cool, and therefore more stable, making for easier flight training.

      Turning, Annie walked back to the hangar. Opening the aluminum door, she stepped inside onto the meticulously clean concrete floor. Her desert camouflage Apache Longbow was in for software upgrades and sat near the far opening of the hangar. Her crew, two men and a woman, were busy working on it. Usually they worked early and left in midafternoon, to avoid the blistering summer heat.

      The welcoming smell of coffee wafted toward her. Flaring her nostrils and inhaling deeply, Annie made her way around two other helos in the hangar. The coffee dispenser was on the wall to the right of the open bay, and Annie headed straight to it. A day didn’t begin without coffee!

      As she stirred in cream and sugar, she heard booted feet coming in her direction, mingling with the clink of tools and the hushed voices of crew members. She looked up as she took a sip of the brew. Sergeant Kat Lakey, her crew chief, was hurrying her way, dressed in a green T-shirt, cammos and black boots. At twenty-five, Kat was a year older than her. Annie was happy this woman took care of her bird, for Lakey was the best crew chief on the base, in her opinion.

      “’Morning, Kat. You look like you’re on a mission. What’s up?” Annie grinned, looking pointedly at the watch on her right wrist.

      Kat smiled and halted. “Yes, ma’am, I believe I am.” Hooking her thumb toward the operations building in the distance, she said, “While you were out just now, I received a call from Ops. From our squadron commander, Colonel Dugan. He wants to see you immediately. I saw you step back into the hangar and thought I’d tell you. He called about two minutes ago.”

      Sipping more of the coffee to hide her surprise, Annie nodded. “Okay…Geez, it’s early for him to be up and moving around, isn’t it?”

      “Yes, ma’am, I think so.” Kat raised a brow. “But Colonel Dugan is famous for saying the early bird gets the worm.”

      “Yeah, you’re right about that one.”

      “You know what it’s about, ma’am?”

      “Hmm? Me? No. Why? Do you? You’re good at knowin’ all the base gossip, Kat. What dirt have you heard lately?” Annie grinned at the sergeant. Kat had a mop of brown hair and a long, narrow face blanketed with freckles across her cheeks and nose. Her gray eyes twinkled with silent laughter.

      “No, nothing new, ma’am. I know we’re going to start combat training flights tomorrow, though. With live ammo.” Kat rubbed her hands, grinning wolfishly. Live ammo wasn’t used often. It cost money for shells, so usually electronic laser shots were used in training. Everyone looked forward to having the Apaches’ considerable arsenal be “hot and live”—real rockets, missiles or bullets instead of a namby-pamby red beam of light to equate a kill.

      Chuckling, Annie nodded. “Yeah, I can hardly wait. Okay, I’ll grab a ride over to Ops. You doin’ okay on the software checks? I want my bird in top shape for tomorrow’s live-fire exercises.”

      “Goin’ fine, ma’am. She’s not a hangar queen.” Kat chuckled.

      Annie smiled and said, “Thank goodness she’s not that! Okay, I’ll get back over here ASAP.”

      “Ma’am…”

      Annie hesitated. “Yes?”

      “Do you think this might be about Chief Dailey’s leaving? You do need a new pilot to fly with you. Could the colonel be callin’ you over to let you know a new team member has been assigned to us?”

      “That would be my thinking, Kat.” She lifted her hand. “I see the base bus that’ll give me a lift to Ops. You’ll be the first to know when I get back.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      

      “At ease, Chief Dazen,” Colonel Dugan said. He pointed toward a brown leather chair set off to one side of his dark green metal desk. “Sit down, please.”

      Annie smiled quickly and nodded. “Yes, sir.” She perched on the edge of the chair, hands on her thighs, and gazed at him expectantly. The look on Dugan’s oval, pockmarked face puzzled her. He was frowning, his short blond hair gleaming with reddish highlights beneath the fluorescent light above his desk. She knew he was in his mid-fifties, but he appeared far more youthful.

      There were what appeared to be several personnel jackets scattered across his desk, and he was thumbing through them. Annie smiled slightly as she watched him. She liked her commanding officer. Red Dugan was a legend in his own time. He’d been one of the first to fly the lethal Boeing Apache combat helicopters, had helped create the curriculum to teach pilots how to fly it at Fort Rucker, and had a long, impressive combat record to boot. Annie had flown with him from time to time and had learned a lot from the highly decorated pilot.

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