Chapter Four

“Ty, Captain Martin wants to see you,” Jean Riva said.

His cup of coffee in hand, Ty halted in the passageway of the Top Gun facility. He had exactly fifteen minutes before he was scheduled to start class. As always, the facility buzzed with muted excitement. Still euphoric over the possibility that Callie might actually like him, he nodded and stepped toward his commanding officer’s office.

A short, dark-haired woman with piercing brown eyes that missed nothing, Riva was a GS-12 in Civil Service and was Captain Martin’s very able assistant and secretary. But right now she looked unhappy. Ty halted at her desk.

“What’s up, Jean?”

“A lot,” she muttered. Leaning over, she announced Ty’s arrival to the CO.

“Send him in, Jean,” the gravelly voice on the other end ordered.

She straightened and nodded. “Go right in, Commander.”

“No hints?” Ty teased. The woman was a no-nonsense, strictly-by-the-book civil servant of the best kind. She was famous for her organizational ability, because it was she, more than anyone else, who kept the facility glued together and functioning properly.

“No hints, Commander,” she announced brusquely and gave him a cardboard smile.

Ty never liked that smile when Jean chose to use it. It meant she was holding back a lot of feelings about something—and usually it meant bad news. Girding himself, he sighed and opened the door. Bob Martin was one of the youngest captains in the navy. He was a highly decorated Vietnam veteran—an ace with six kills to his credit—and was even more no-nonsense than his vaunted assistant.

Martin’s head snapped in his direction as Ty closed the door behind him. “Come in, Ty.” He gestured toward one of the two chairs in front of his large walnut desk. “Have a seat.”

“Yes, sir,” Ty murmured, sitting down and balancing the cup of coffee on his left thigh. He often thought that Martin looked snakelike—but in the most positive way. He could keep his narrow face absolutely devoid of expression, and he had coal black eyes that never seemed to blink. They just stared down the other party with such an intensity that Ty figured Martin could mesmerize them into immobility—much the way a cobra would hypnotize its prey.

Martin’s black hair was peppered with strands of gray at the temples, and now he was wearing his summer white uniform, the four gold stripes on black boards positioned on each of his shoulders shouting his authority.

“I understand you were a witness to the assault on Lieutenant Calista Donovan?”

Ty felt as if a bomb had been dropped in Martin’s office. He straightened unconsciously. His CO must have received Dr. Lipinski’s report via the legal department, he realized. “Er…yes, sir.”

“Tell me exactly what you saw and what happened,” Martin demanded in a clipped tone.

“Yes, sir,” Ty said, and he launched into a brief sketch of the incident. He watched Martin’s thin, black brows dip lower and lower as he completed the report. The man’s mouth was a flat line by the time he’d finished, his dark eyes flashing with anger.

Leaning back in his chair, Martin turned and looked out the window that viewed the revetment area where the jets used for training sat. “Commander, I was hoping against hope that Dr. Lipinski was embellishing this whole damn thing.” He turned around and placed his hands on the desk. “Obviously, she wasn’t.”

“No, sir.”

“You’ve recently returned from a two-week stint at the War College, where you took accelerated courses in the Uniform Code of Military Justice, right?” he barked out, so abruptly that Ty almost jumped.

The UCMJ, as it was known, was a huge, legal compendium of articles that applied to every phase of military organization. Ty nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Picking up a file near his left hand, Martin opened it. “And you were number one in standing, out of fifty attending officers?”

Flushing a bit, Ty murmured, “Yes, sir.”

“Do you realize that somehow, by someone, this incident involving Lieutenant Donovan has been leaked to the major newspapers in San Diego and Los Angeles, as well as to press organizations around the United States?”

Stunned, Ty sat frozen, his grip on the coffee cup tightening. “No, sir, I hadn’t.”

“Any idea who did it? Not that it matters anymore—the horse is out of the corral now.”

“I have no idea, Captain.” Ty began to sweat. Did Martin know that he had fraternized with Callie after the incident? He felt as if the walls had suddenly grown eyes and ears. The discussion was on shaky ground, and he didn’t know what Martin wanted from him.

“Well, within the next couple of hours, our station is going to be inundated with media attention. After that newspaper article by the Donovan sisters, things were already explosive.” With a shake of his head, Martin muttered, “We’ve got a real problem, Ty, and we’ve got to move quickly to institute damage control, or the navy could end up looking very bad—not only to our own tax-paying public, but around the world.”

“Yes, sir.” Ty sweated a bit more. He no longer chafed over the fact that he was going to be late starting his class.

“Here’s what I’m authorizing. I’m convening a board of inquiry regarding this matter. Each of the officers listed in Dr. Lipinski’s report will be given counsel by a fellow officer. Obviously, I can’t assign just any officer to Lieutenant Donovan, or the press will cry foul play from the outset.” Martin jabbed his finger in Ty’s direction. “I’m ordering you to become Lieutenant Donovan’s counsel. I can hold up your credentials as the officer at Miramar who has the most familiarity with the UCMJ. If I do less than that, the press will tear us apart. I’m not going to have someone accuse us of giving Lieutenant Donovan less than the best we have for her defense. Not on my station, and not on my watch.”

Openmouthed, Ty stared at his CO. Never in his wildest nightmares had he thought he’d become a counsel in a board inquiry. It was something any officer could be ordered to do, however, and he quickly realized that by having the UCMJ training, he’d made himself eligible.

“But, sir, I’m teaching two classes a day here at the facility. To become a counsel is going to require a lot of time and effort.”

Martin stared at him. “This is a UCMJ, Article 133 problem, Commander. Conduct unbecoming an officer. In this case, potentially three officers. I don’t have a choice. We’ve got to move quickly to convince the press and everyone else, specifically Congress, that we are putting teeth into this board of inquiry. I know you have a stacked schedule, but if necessary, I’ll relieve you temporarily and pull in someone TAD, to take over while you conduct the investigation on behalf of Lieutenant Donovan.”

“But…I’m a witness to this, too.”

“There’s nothing in the UCMJ that says a counsel can’t be a witness. When it’s your turn to testify, you’ll do exactly that. This isn’t a civil case out in the public, Commander. I already checked to make sure it was all right for you as counsel to testify.”

Ty was reeling. “This board will determine whether or not Commander Remington and the other two pilots should be disciplined. Is that correct?”

“This board will determine who is guilty,” Martin snapped. “You’re the best man for this assignment, Ty, so I want you to teach your classes today. After that, come and tell me whether you can balance both responsibilities. If you can’t, you’re temporarily relieved of duty as an instructor at Top Gun until the board is completed.”

“When will the board convene, Captain?”

“In one week. You’ve got seven days to get whatever evidence, witnesses and information you can to present on behalf of Lieutenant Donovan. The board will be made up of three officers from your peer group. I won’t be one of them, since it happened under my command. I won’t have the press crying foul on that, too. Rest assured, we will gather three men with unquestionable backgrounds.”

Dizzied by the news, Ty nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You’ve got exactly five minutes until your class starts, Ty. I don’t want you or Lieutenant Donovan to speak to anyone from the media—is that understood? I’m putting a gag order on Commander Remington and the counsels involved with their side of this incident, too. The media must go through channels or all hell will break loose, and I will not permit that. Is that understood?”

Standing, Ty came to attention. “Very clear, sir.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Callie was preparing a salad for her lunch when the doorbell rang. She wiped her hands on a nearby towel and settled the crutches beneath her arms. Who was it now? All morning, her phone had been ringing off the hook. Somehow, the incident involving her and Remington had been leaked to the press. Shortly after Ty had left, she’d received a call from Public Affairs at the station, ordering her not to talk to the media. They’d told her that more information would be forthcoming.

Opening the door, she once again saw Ty Ballard, hat in hand—but this time he looked very unhappy. A pronounced frown creased his broad brow, and his mouth turned down.

“Ty…”

“Hi, Callie. May I come in?”

She saw the briefcase in his hand and felt tension radiating around him. Her heart pounded briefly and she moved to one side. “Sure, come in.”

“Thanks,” Ty muttered. He shut the door. Callie was looking much better. Color showed in her cheeks and her blue eyes were no longer so fearful. He saw redness in them, however, and wondered if she’d been crying. The thought needled him. “We have to talk.”

“Talk?”

“Yes. Business, Callie. I wish it wasn’t, but it is.”

She gestured toward the kitchen. “I was just fixing myself a salad for lunch. Would you like some?”

“No…thanks. I grabbed a hamburger on the way over here.”

“Okay, you can talk while I eat. How about a cup of coffee?” She couldn’t understand the tension in Ty’s posture, or his abruptness.

“Sure, a cup of coffee sounds good.” A drink would be better right now, he thought balefully: a stiff belt of whiskey.

In the kitchen, Callie finished preparing her salad and placed the bowl on the table. Ty poured them coffee and sat down opposite her. She hobbled to the chair and placed her crutches against the wall.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” she said, drizzling Italian dressing over the salad.

“I didn’t, either,” he admitted ruefully. Opening his briefcase, he drew out a sheaf of papers and then took a pen from his breast pocket. “Look, you need to know what’s going down, Callie.” He hoped she wouldn’t be upset, but that was fooling himself. “Has anyone from Miramar contacted you about what’s going on?”

“On?”

“Yes, due to the incident.”

With a shrug, she chewed a bite of salad. “About a half hour after you left I got a call from the station ordering me to not to talk to anyone from the media. That’s all. They told me someone had leaked the story to the press, and I wasn’t to say anything.”

Taking a deep breath, Ty nodded. “Here’s what is officially happening,” he began, and he told her about the board of inquiry to be convened in one week’s time. Then he squared his shoulders. “Callie, Captain Martin has ordered me to become your counsel.” He held his breath, trying to ferret out Callie’s reaction. Of all things, Ty didn’t want this position. He’d rather have been left out of the loop on this incident all together.

“You?” Callie set her fork down on the pale pink mat and clasped her hands.

“Yes. Captain Martin wanted to ensure you had someone who knows the UCMJ. Now, I’m not a lawyer, and I want you to understand that.”

“Do I need a lawyer?” Callie’s heart began to pound with dread.

“Technically, no,” Ty hedged. “But you can get one, if you want. That’s your prerogative.”

“How would the board see it?”

With a shrug, Ty muttered, “I don’t know.”

Rubbing her brow, Callie realized she was no longer hungry. She pushed the salad aside. “If I get a lawyer, it could go against me,” she said. “The board is comprised of three officers, right?”

“Yes, three of our superiors.”

She stared at Ty. Just how good was he at this sort of thing? “What is your function in this?”

“Basically, I’m your counsel. It’s my job to find witnesses, corroborate testimony and do whatever I feel is necessary to place you in a good light before the board.”

“And there’s a counsel for the accused?”

“Actually,” Ty said with a grimace, “under the UCMJ, each officer is allowed his or her own counsel.”

Callie’s eyes widened. “That means three against one!”

“I know it doesn’t sound good,” Ty said.

“Is there cross-examination by counsel?”

“Yes.”

“Great,” Callie whispered. “So, once I take the stand, I’m going to have three different male officers questioning me.”

Squirming, Ty nodded. “I know it seems unfair—”

“It is!”

“You need to understand that they can bring in witnesses, too. Or experts. This is going to be just like a civilian trial in some ways, and whatever the board decides is final.”

She stared at him. “My career is over, then. There’s no way, Ty, that a board of three older male officers is going to believe my side of the story. And even if they do, I’ll never live it down. My name will be known throughout the navy—and it won’t be nice.”

“Look,” Ty pleaded, opening his hands, “I know this sounds lopsided, but—”

“You bet it is! I’m the victim in this, Ty. And I’m going to have three pilots swearing that I started it, that I asked for it, and three counsels coming at me with their teeth bared.” Callie tried to calm her breathing. She felt shaky inside. “Oh, God, I never realized it would come to this. Why did Dr. Lipinski have to send in that report? I was just as happy to let it die.”

Grimly, Ty reached across the table and slipped his hand over her knotted one. “Listen to me, Callie—Remington and those two pilots shouldn’t get away with what they did to you.”

His hand was strong and firm, and for a moment Callie felt safe. But she quickly pulled out of his grasp, fearing that if she didn’t, she would open her hand and grip his back, even harder. “You actually think three pilots sitting on that board are going to side with me? I thought I was an idealist, but you’re worse. I’m a woman, Ty. I don’t care how tight our case is, how well you cross-examine those three bastards who did this to me, or how many witnesses—if any—come forward on my behalf.”

Ty sat back, feeling helpless at the sight of tears gathering in her hurt blue eyes. “I’ll do my very best to defend you, Callie. To bring the truth to light.”

Rubbing her face, Callie whispered, “I have to think about this, Ty. I need to talk to Maggie. Maybe I ought to get a civilian lawyer. I just don’t know. I need time to sort this out….”

“Okay,” he said, putting the sheaf of papers back into his leather briefcase. “But we don’t have much time, Callie. Can you talk to Maggie today and call me by this evening with your decision?”

Miserably, she nodded and allowed her hands to drop into her lap. The burning flame in Ty’s gray gaze made her realize that he genuinely was there for her. “How do you feel about this?” she asked suddenly. “Did you want the job of defending me?”

His conscience needling him, Ty shrugged. “In all honesty, no,” he admitted. “I have a tight faculty schedule, and I’m loaded to the limit with responsibilities over there.”

Callie held his shadowed gaze, sensing more than hearing his words. “Being my counsel could hurt your career, too. Have you thought of that?” she asked softly.

Shifting uncomfortably, Ty nodded. “Yeah, I thought about it.”

“You’ll be going up against the brotherhood—trying to tear apart exactly what they huddle together to defend. They’ll see you as a traitor.”

“Yes, they probably will.” Callie’s face was pale, her eyes luminous with tears. It tore deeply at Ty. A woman’s tears could level him as nothing else could.

“And yet, you’re willing to do this?” she asked shakily. Then, the light suddenly dawning, she added, “Or, were you ordered to take my case?”

“I was ordered to do it,” Ty said in a low tone. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have done it, Callie.”

She eyed him for a long time, the silence building thickly between them. “Maggie said your nickname is The Predator.”

“That’s right.”

“She didn’t have many kind things to say about you. She thought you were as bad as any other navy pilot when it comes to harassing women.”

Smarting under her accusation, Ty felt his skin prickling with heat. “That may have been true when I was single, but I never messed around after I got married the way Remington has. And yes, I’ve been guilty of chasing groupies. I haven’t denied that.”

“So what’s changed?”

He was beginning to see the Donovan intelligence at work. Maggie was just as bone-baring, in her way, as Callie was now being with him. But in all honesty, he couldn’t blame her. Why would she want someone who was just like the rest of the pilots to defend her? He knew she was questioning his ability to somehow prejudice his counsel position against her.

“Marriage changed me,” he answered abruptly, after more than a minute of silence.

“You’re divorced now. Why should I think you won’t revert back to the same old navy pilot you were before? Why should I believe that you have the ability to defend me honestly when you’re as much of a ring-knocker as the men who are accused?”

Anger flickered through Ty. He felt her own fury, and he understood it. “I may be lousy husband material,” he answered in a clipped tone, “but I’m not the kind of man to go around taking unfair advantage of women. I never have.”

Callie drew in a ragged breath, getting a taste of Ty Ballard’s anger. “You’ve chased groupies at the bar. You’ve played all the little-boy locker-room games with them. I won’t believe you if you deny it, Commander Ballard.”

He flinched inwardly. Callie was on the defensive; she’d reverted to his official title. That hurt more than anything. “I won’t deny it, dammit! Who’s on trial here, anyway?”

Gasping, Callie pushed back the chair and got awkwardly to her feet. “On trial? You are, Commander! Why should I trust you any more than I trust Remington and his gang? Why should I trust a board of three male officers?” She grabbed the crutches, breathing hard. “Why should I trust any of you? I don’t want to be in this position! I didn’t ask for this! I just wanted to be left alone, can’t you understand that?” Her voice broke and she stood there, gripping the crutches hard. “I won’t get a fair board hearing—we both know that. My career will be ruined, my name smeared forever. And you know the saddest thing of all, Commander? I didn’t start this! I’m the one it happened to!”

“Take it easy,” Ty rasped, standing. “I know you don’t like what’s happened. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t, either, Callie.”

“Lieutenant Donovan to you, Commander.”

Tension stretched palpably between them, and Ty realized he’d better leave. “Talk to your sister,” he said as he picked up his briefcase. “I’ve left my phone number. You can call me tonight after you’ve made your decision.”

Bitterly, Callie moved aside. “You know where the door is, Commander.”

Trying to wrestle with the hurt twisting its way through him, Ty turned toward the door. He hadn’t wanted the meeting to end this way. The pain in Callie’s face had dissolved his anger, leaving only numbness in its wake. She was right on all counts: she was the victim, yet she was the one whose career, name and entire being would be under attack.

“I’ll see you later,” he croaked.

Maggie sat grimly on the couch listening to Callie’s story, her hands folded and tense in her lap.

“Who’s been assigned as your counsel?” she demanded.

Callie took a deep breath and whispered, “Commander Ballard.”

Maggie shot off the couch. “What? The Predator? Come on, you’ve got to be joking!”

“I’m not, Maggie.”

Pacing, Maggie muttered, “The Predator! Listen, that guy has a reputation that has followed him from early days. He’s a killer in the sky, but he’s also a hunter on the ground.” Maggie halted. “Ballard is as bad as Remington.”

“He said he changed after he got married,” Callie answered wearily.

Lifting her hands, Maggie said, “I think the whole damn station is out to railroad you, Callie. Someone leaked this to the press. Do you know how many phone calls I’ve gotten today, asking me about it? About you?”

Callie nodded. She felt so old and so tired. “I feel like I’m preparing for the Spanish Inquisition, if you want the truth. But what can I do?”

Maggie began to pace. “Ballard is a competitive bastard, I’ll say that much for him. What about a civilian attorney?”

“I’ve thought about it. The worst is, no civilian is going to be familiar with the UCMJ or board procedures, which could hurt me in the long run. Ballard has a strong background in UCMJ training, Maggie.”

“Yeah,” she snorted, “but he’s one of the ‘boys,’ too. He’s a ring-knocker. I’ve seen the brotherhood at work—they cover their tracks, defend their own kind.”

“I know….”

“Hell,” Maggie said, sitting back down, “we saw the ‘good ol’ boy’ system at work when we went through the academy.”

“You don’t need to tell me,” Callie said. “I just feel helpless, Maggie. No matter what I do, I’m hamstrung. If I hire a civilian lawyer, he won’t know the ropes of the military legal system. If I depend on Ballard, he could—even subconsciously—be prejudiced against me because it’s his ‘brothers’ on the line.”

Bitterly, Maggie said, “Yeah, isn’t that the truth?”

“Beyond the rumors, what’s Ballard like? You work with him.”

“He’s intense. He’s good behind the stick.”

“Maggie, as a person.”

“Oh. Well, he’s been here about two years. I’ve flown against him as an Aggressor pilot, and we’re even for wins.”

Her patience wearing thin, Callie gave her sister a pleading look. “Give me a readout on him as a human being, Maggie. I don’t care about his flying abilities.”

Having the good grace to blush, Maggie ran her long fingers through her hair. “Sorry, sis. I get carried away.”

“That’s okay.”

“Ballard is introverted. He’s quiet, but intense. He’s a good teacher because he has the ability to shift gears, level with the men he’s teaching and reach them.”

“Have you seen him at the O Club?”

“Sure. Usually, if we’ve been flying, we’ll go over for a beer afterward.”

Callie took a deep breathe. “Have you seen him chase the groupies?”

Maggie shrugged. “He sits with his buddies and drinks—not usually more than a beer or two. Once I saw a groupie go over to his table and try to hustle him, but he wasn’t interested.”

“Maybe this divorce has dampened his enthusiasm,” Callie said.

“Who knows? I met his wife, Jackie, a number of times. She’s a sharp lady. She’s a stockbroker, I think. I do know that after she filed divorce papers, Ballard took a nosedive that I think he’s still in.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s just…different. Quieter, I guess. More introspective.”

“Was it a nasty divorce?”

“Not from the scuttle I heard. It was a friendly settlement.”

“Is he still friends with his ex-wife?” Callie hoped so. If he’d stayed on good terms with Jackie, that would suggest he didn’t have a lot of anger and bitterness that could come to light in the courtroom—to Callie’s detriment.

“I don’t really know.” Maggie smiled a little. “I could find out, nose around for you.”

“It’s too late for that.” Callie looked at her watch. It was already 1900. She would have to call Ballard soon with her decision.

“We’ve got women flight mechs on the line,” Maggie said, “and there’s a woman on the team that maintains his F-14. My flight chief, Chantal, is good friends with this other woman—I think her name is Ardella Hecht. Chantal would tell me if there was any harassment going down, and I’ve never heard anything. So he must treat Hecht all right.”

“How about women at the facility?”

“There are plenty of yeoman over there,” Maggie admitted. “Ballard’s always a gentleman with them. I don’t see him following the secretaries around, and I haven’t heard him dropping the type of innuendos that I have from that slime, Remington.”

“Maybe that’s a good sign,” Callie murmured.

Maggie frowned for a moment, thinking, then sighed. “I don’t believe you have a choice in this, Callie,” she said unhappily. “Ballard is it. Which isn’t to say that his past reputation doesn’t worry me. Before he got married, he was in a lot of bar fights and brawls. I mean, he still swaggers. He’s got Macho Navy Pilot written all over him, and he wears it like a good friend.”

“I feel like I’ve been thrown to the wolves, Maggie. No matter what I do, no matter what my good intentions, my name, my career, is down the tubes.”

“I know it’s scary,” Maggie agreed. “I’d hate to have something like this happen to me. I’d hate to think of the repercussions it would have on my career.” She gave Callie a warm look. “But I’m puzzled, Callie. Ever since you entered the academy, you’ve changed. When we were growing up together, you used to be just as much of a fighter as the rest of us.”

“I know….”

“Somehow—” Maggie looked at her assessingly “—you’re going to have to get that fighting spirit back.”

“I don’t want to fight anyone!” Callie cried. “I just want to be left alone.”

Maggie came over and sat on the arm of the chair. She placed her arm around Callie. “I’m sorry, sis,” she offered gently. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. But I’ll help you any way I can. If Ballard wants me as a witness, I’ll be there for you.”

Sighing, Callie wrapped her arm around her sister’s waist. “Right now, I can use all the support I can get.”

“There’s nothing I’d like better than to face off with that bastard, Remington.”

Chuckling, Callie glanced up at Maggie’s set and furious features. “You’d probably throw a punch and deck him right in front of the board.”

Laughing, Maggie hugged her and stood up. “Naw, I wouldn’t do that. I’d just take Remington apart, piece by piece….”

The moment of laughter passed, and Callie watched her sister pick up her purse to go. “I’m really afraid, Maggie. My career is everything. I don’t have any other skills if they kick me out.”

“They can’t kick you out,” Maggie said.

“You know they can pressure me into resigning. I’ve seen other people pushed out of the navy for various reasons. They can do it to me, too.”

Her eyes glittering, Maggie said, “Not without one hell of a fight, Callie. And that’s what you’ve got to do—you’ve got to learn to fight back. Ballard’s a fighter. I know he’s not perfect, and his past is suspect, but at least he’ll wade into that ring with boxing gloves on. You’ll have to do the same.”

“If Ballard can really side with me, and believe in me,” Callie said. “He was ordered to take the case, Maggie. So what does that say?”

“Ballard’s reputation with the groupies may be shot, but I’ll give him this—he’s got a bit of the knight on a charger in him, too. He’s very clear about right and wrong.”

“Great. But what if he thinks I asked for Remington’s attack? Then he won’t side with me.”

Reaching down, Maggie squeezed Callie’s hand. “Talk with him. Get him to come over and sit down, face to face, and spill your fears. Gauge how he reacts to them, Callie. Then, if you still feel he’ll betray you, go to Captain Martin and demand another counsel. That’s your right.”

“This is such a mess.”

“No denying that, sis. Look, give Ballard a chance. Call me after you’ve made your decision, okay?”

Her heart heavy, Callie nodded. “Okay. And thanks, Maggie…”

“Donovans always stick together,” Maggie reminded her grimly. “And just remember, you’re out on the leading edge for all women. This little incident is a lot larger than you realize. The newspapers know it, that’s for sure. Right now, you’re a symbol for women, whether they’re civilians or in the service.”

“I don’t want to be a symbol,” Callie said bitterly. “That’s your bag, Maggie. You wear it well, and you’ve done wonders for women who want to fly fighters in the navy. But I don’t want that responsibility. I’m not the fighter you are.”

“You,” Maggie said softly, “don’t have a choice. Let’s make the best of this—for all women.”