July 1992
Casey worked on flight planning for her upcoming cross-country trip. This was one of the biggest highlights of T-37 training. Casey and Jeff worked together to plan a five-leg weekend trip. Since everyone else was also planning their trips, a lot of the military bases were full, with no room for more out-of-town jets. They came up with a plan for two legs on Friday to Cannon Air Force Base in Clovis, New Mexico, then Dyess Air Force Base in Abilene, Texas. Day two would be a low-level mission to Randolph Air Force Base in San Antonio, then on to Biggs Army Air Field in El Paso, Texas. The last day was one leg home to Willie on Sunday. Lieutenant Carter approved their flight plans and told Casey to ask the head scheduler who she would be flying with. She hoped it would be Captain Hardesty.
“Captain Arnau, can you tell me who I will be flying with on my cross-country?”
“I don’t know yet, Casey. I’m still waiting to hear back from my guest help IPs. Let me guess, you want to fly with Captain Hardesty again?”
“Yes, ma’am, I would.” Is it that obvious?
“I’ll see what I can do.”
*****
Kathryn looked forward to flying a cross-country mission after being inundated with safety paperwork for the last several days. She was relived the squadron commander had not given her an official letter of reprimand after her safety report on herself. He’d made her stand at attention in front of his big desk while he slowly read the report. Then he looked her square in the face and said, “Kath, you got lucky this time. Don’t ever do that again or I’ll have to make it official. Do you hear me, Captain?”
“Loud and clear, sir.”
“Now get out of my office, and—you didn’t hear this from me—nice flying getting that jet on the ground in that shitty weather.”
Warlock flight had all their cross-countries covered, so she went over to see Barb to volunteer to fly with Good Grief flight. She tried hard to fly with the different flights and not show favoritism to anyone, but she secretly wanted to fly with Casey. She needed to show her good training in instrument flying, not just a near-death experience.
“Captain Arnau, my favorite scheduler, I am at your service to fly a cross-country this weekend.”
“Captain Hardesty, I’m very glad to see you. I need IPs to fly with Montgomery, Keller, and Tompkins—take your pick.”
“How about Tompkins?”
“You got it, Kath. I think she has her flight plans already done.”
Kathryn walked over to Casey and Jeff’s table. “Lieutenant Tompkins, tell me where you’ve planned for us to go this weekend.”
“Yes, ma’am. Jeff and I have flight plans for Cannon and Dyess on Friday, Randolph and Biggs on Saturday, then return to Willie on Sunday.”
“Clovis, New Mexico, Abilene, San Antonio, and El Paso, Texas? I don’t think so. I hate fucking Texas. Throw out those flight plans. It was a good practice exercise. I want you to work with Keller and flight plan for March Air Force Base in Riverside, California, then a low-level to Miramar Naval Air Station in San Diego on day one. We’ll fly to Mather Air Force Base in Sacramento and end up in Las Vegas at Nellis Air Force Base on Saturday, then one leg back to Willie on Sunday. Be sure to stay out of the airspace around LAX on the leg from March to San Diego.” Kathryn had her own personal plans for her layover in Las Vegas. She was considering the idea of dating again after a very long dry spell, and the possibility of a date percolated in her mind. This could turn out to be a very good cross-country trip.
“But, ma’am, those bases said they were full and they couldn’t handle any more planes from Willie.”
“Don’t worry about landing permissions, Casey. I’ll take care of that. You and Keller just put together the flight plans.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll get right on it.”
“I’ll meet you in base operations Friday at 0900 hours. Don’t bring too much stuff with you. The baggage storage on the Tweet is pretty small.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll be ready. See you Friday.”
Casey walked over to Keller’s table. “Hey, John, guess what? We’re going to California and Vegas for our cross-country flights! We’re supposed to flight plan together.”
“How’d you pull that off? I heard those places were full up.”
“Don’t ask me, dude. Captain Hardesty is taking care of it.”
“Sweet. I don’t even know where to start with these flight plans. Do you know how to do this?”
“Yeah, I do. We’ll do it together. It’s not that tricky.”
*****
“Captain Hardesty, did I hear you mention you were going to Nellis this weekend?” Captain Arnau asked.
“Why, yes, Barb, you did. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Certainly not. I was just wondering if you were planning on seeing her, that’s all,” Barb whispered.
After checking no students or IPs were listening to them, she said, “I don’t know yet. Maybe. It depends on if she wants to see me.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’s going to want to see you again, Kath. Look, I’m really glad you’re considering seeing someone again. Lord knows it’s been a long time, but you know what I think of her. Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Thanks, I will.”
Kathryn walked back over to her office, and she felt a little stir in her belly at the thought of actually having a date this weekend. It had been such a long time since she’d been involved with anyone. Marie’s death had hung over her like a heavy blanket for the past five years. Only recently had she started to see glimpses of light at the end of the dark tunnel of grief.
She realized the exact moment her heart started to thaw—watching Casey play softball. She smiled at the recollection of seeing Casey’s toned legs as she ran around the bases. That’s when the scales fell from her eyes.
Then there was that dream. The dream she’d had twice now. She walked into her office, closed the door, and sat in her chair. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift back to it.
Kathryn felt warmth on her left shoulder. She was flying a Tweet at night in bad weather. She was getting bounced around pretty good and was having a hard time controlling the plane. She felt tense and looked over to see who was sitting next to her. It was Casey. The lights of the instrument panel cast a red glow on her face, making her look sensual and warm. She wasn’t wearing a helmet or mask. She looked back at Kathryn and smiled. Her smile was so beautiful, like she had every confidence in Kathryn. She reached over and put her strong hand on Kathryn’s hand. There was no fear between them, of the bad weather, or of each other. They were in sync, as one.
Then she woke up. Yesterday, when she woke from the dream, she was warm all over and felt aroused for the first time in a very long time.
It was ridiculous to even think about Casey. Anything between them was out of the question. Casey was her student, and she was junior in rank. There had been one or two relationships between IPs and student pilots, usually male IPs and their female students, and it always ended in disaster with severe, career-ending punishment. No, there would never be anything between her and Casey, but the dreams had opened her eyes to the possibility of trying again with another woman. She would call her old flame in Vegas and see what might happen. The idea gave her a welcome tingle.
*****
Casey did most of the flight planning and let Keller mark the aeronautical charts. She was as prepared as she could be when she got to base operations early, and she was beyond excited for the upcoming trip. Captain Hardesty strolled in precisely at 0900 like she owned the place.
“All right, Casey, brief me on what we’re doing today.”
Casey explained the routing, the en route weather, the emergency airfields, and the arrival into March. Captain Hardesty showed Casey some whiz wheel shortcuts to calculate ground speed and fuel burn.
“Casey, Southern California is some of the busiest airspace in the entire country, and you will be flying under the hood doing different types of instrument approaches. I’ll work the radios and you just fly good instruments. We will fly like a crew.”
“Got it, ma’am.”
They went out to the jet and Captain Hardesty showed her the secret storage cubby holes in the Tweet. They took off, and as soon as they passed four hundred feet, Captain Hardesty took the stick and told Casey to put on the instrument hood. She used a folded chart stuffed under the top visor of her helmet to block her field of vision so she could only see the instruments. The departure went well, and Casey leveled off at twenty-five thousand feet. She was concentrating hard on holding her altitude but missed a few radio calls. This was a lot harder in the real airplane than it was in the simulator.
Captain Hardesty showed her how to do a ground speed check and triangulate her position. Casey was flying fairly well on instruments until they got into the airspace for Los Angeles Center. The radio calls were so fast it was like drinking from a fire hose, and Casey could barely understand what the air traffic controllers were saying, much less when they were talking to her. She had never heard such fast and furious radio chatter and was getting completely overwhelmed.
“Sage 21, Los Angeles Center, turn right heading two-seven-zero, descend and maintain five thousand, contact SoCal approach on two-three-five point two.”
“Um, Sage 21, say again?”
Captain Hardesty jumped on the radio with the reply to LA Center. “Casey, you just fly the plane and I’ll handle the radios.”
Casey was a little less overwhelmed but still had to concentrate as hard as she could to keep up with the jet. They didn’t give her the arrival she had planned on, but instead a completely different routing. Casey was mentally behind the jet and she had no idea where she was or where she was going.
“Descend to four thousand feet, Casey, power idle, slow down, get the landing gear down. You’re on a dogleg to the runway final and five miles from the final approach fix. Trim, trim, trim, Casey.”
All she could do was try to hold her heading and keep the wings level. Fly the jet, just fly the jet.
“If I don’t take off the hood at decision height you must go around and fly the missed approach procedure. Think of what that is as we descend.”
Crap. What’s the decision height altitude? How do I fly the missed approach? Her brain went blank. Oh yeah, do a go-around, then fly runway heading to three thousand feet, turn right to heading zero-three-zero. Her mind was swimming as she was descending toward the ground.
“Approaching decision height. Decision height. Can you see the runway, Casey?”
“No, ma’am, I can’t.”
“Then go around. You are only two hundred feet above the ground. Execute the missed approach now!”
Casey’s brain finally engaged and she was able to fly the missed approach.
“My airplane, Casey.” Captain Hardesty took the stick. “Relax, take a breath, take the hood off, and look around.”
She removed the chart from her helmet visor and looked out at thick, brown smog. She saw the giant runway at March through the haze over her shoulder. They were turning to a downwind leg. Now she understood where she was, and her situation orientation came back.
“Feeling less overwhelmed, Casey?”
“Yes, a little bit, ma’am.”
“You are doing okay. This is hard. Just try to fly good instruments, keep trimming the jet, and try to visualize where you are in relation to the runway. I’m going to have you put the hood on again and we’ll try the ILS approach to a touch-and-go landing.”
The next approach went better. Casey felt like she was able to keep up with the jet mentally a little better. At the decision height, Captain Hardesty pulled the hood from Casey’s helmet, and she saw the big runway right in front of her. She flared high and dropped in the landing from thirty feet for a rather firm touchdown. She lowered the nose, added full power, and lifted off for another approach.
“Sage 21, request closed pattern.”
“Sage 21, closed approved. Use caution for a B-52 on a three-mile final. How will this approach terminate?”
Captain Hardesty jumped on the radio. “Tower, this will be a full stop.
“My airplane, Casey.”
“Roger, your jet, ma’am.”
Captain Hardesty yanked the airplane hard into a tight, climbing turn. They were abeam the touchdown zone as she ripped the throttles to idle, threw the landing gear handle down, and put the plane into a steep, descending final turn.
“March Tower, Sage 21, gear down, full stop.”
“Sage 21, cleared to land.”
This was the tightest overhead pattern Casey had ever seen. They were screaming toward the ground as Casey looked out and saw a giant green and black B-52 bomber headed right for them on final approach. Oh my God, that thing is huge. It’s going to overrun us. How is she going to pull this one out of her ass?
Captain Hardesty rolled the jet out on a very short final approach, perfectly on glide path, and on speed. She greased on the landing, then got on the brakes hard, slowing the jet to taxi speed in a few seconds, and made the first runway turn-off. She stopped the plane when they were clear of the runway, and they both looked back over their shoulders just as the massive bomber touched down right next to them. Casey saw black smoke come out of the eight engines as the behemoth accelerated, then gracefully lifted off for another practice approach.
Casey was exhausted, sweating, and brain-dead as she climbed out of the jet. When they went inside, Captain Hardesty said, “Would you like a Coke, Casey?”
“Yes, ma’am, I think I would.”
They walked over to the bank of vending machines on the wall. “This is the official food of cross-country flying, Casey.” Captain Hardesty got two Cokes, bags of Cheetos, and two Snickers bars. They sat in companionable silence eating their junk food.
“Let’s debrief a little. Your overall instrument flying was pretty good and you did an okay job on the approaches.” Casey was surprised. She thought she’d done a terrible job flying. “You need to work on your situation orientation. That’s the hardest thing about instrument flying, but that will come.” Casey smiled inside at Captain Hardesty’s confidence in her. “The low-level leg to Miramar should be easier now. We have to be very heads-up going in there because we’ll be mixing it up with a bunch of Navy F-14s and F-18s going really fast. Sorry I had to take a last landing in here, but I knew we had to get in front of that B-52. We were starting to get low on gas.”
“How did you know you could get in front of them?”
“Oh, just a few thousand landings in the Tweet. By the way, that’s how you fly a tight overhead pattern if you ever have to. Just make sure you’re stabilized on final. Ready for the next leg?”
“Yes, ma’am, I guess so.” She was a little less brain-dead after the sugar and caffeine.
The low-level leg to Miramar was a lot less stressful than the previous one. She found all her turn points and even enjoyed the view. The Navy controller gave her a precision radar approach that turned out to be a piece of cake. Casey was glad to see two other Tweets parked in front of base operations. Her classmates Keller and Montgomery were waiting for her inside operations with room keys to the visiting officer quarters.
“Just drop off your flight gear in your rooms and come over to the O Club. Don’t change out of your flight suits. Captain Stavros and Captain McClain are already there, and they have a head start on us.”
“Thanks, guys, see you in a few,” Captain Hardesty said. “Good job on the low-level, Casey, and the approach. See, that radar approach isn’t so tough.”
“No, ma’am, it was easier than I thought it would be.”
“Well, they have to keep things real simple for these Navy pilots.”
Laughing, they both went into their respective rooms.
Casey noticed how stark the quarters were compared to Air Force quarters. Air Force rooms were not plush, by any means, but this was positively Spartan and tiny. “I guess it’s better than being on a boat.” As she washed her hands and face, she heard the sound of the shower next door, in Captain Hardesty’s room. An image of her all soaped up with her sandy brown hair wet against her face came into Casey’s mind. What does she look like under that flight suit? Does she like to play in the shower? Casey enjoyed the fantasy a few moments until she heard the water shut off. “Oh my God. Where did that come from?” She splashed more cold water on her face, then hurried out the door to the Officers’ Club.
Casey found the IPs and her classmates standing at the bar sharing a pitcher of beer.
“Tompkins! Come and join us. You look like you need several beers. Bartender, we need another glass.”
Casey relished the cold, sharp taste of the beer as she took a big swig. She definitely felt like relaxing after two challenging flights today, and she needed to get her mind off the shower fantasy of Kathryn Hardesty. This bar was as noisy as the bar at Willie but filled with Navy and Marine Corps pilots. There were several young women here, but she was the only woman in a flight suit. She felt very conspicuous. She heard a scream over her shoulder and turned to see a bunch of Marine pilots laughing as they “played a harmless game” with some of the local girls. They would sneak up behind a girl, bend down, then bite her on her butt cheek. The girls didn’t seem to be enjoying it nearly as much as the Marines did. Casey sensed Kathryn standing right behind her. She turned, looked at Kathryn’s damp hair, and tried not to choke on her beer as she reached for a glass for her.
“Fucking jarheads.”
“Don’t say that too loud, Hard-Ass, or they’ll eighty-six us right out of here. Have some beer and chill,” Captain Stavros said.
“I’ll have ginger ale instead.”
“Uh-oh, she’s going right for the hard stuff. Watch out.”
“Shut up, you assholes, and give me my ginger ale.”
Casey enjoyed their good-natured ribbing. Other than Captain Arnau, she’d never seen Kathryn joke around with any other IPs. It was nice to see her cut up with the guys. She rarely ever smiled at work. Away from Willie, relaxed in this Navy bar, she laughed with abandon and showed her killer dimples when she smiled.
Casey caught movement reflected in the mirror behind the bar. Two Marines were trying to sneak up behind Captain Hardesty. Before she even thought about it, Casey quickly turned with her knee bent and caught the first one hard in the chest. He fell back with an “oof” and hit his head on the floor. Everyone at the bar turned to see what the commotion was, and they were surprised to see a big, tough Marine splayed out on the floor with a woman Air Force pilot standing over him. Then they started laughing at him. “Smooth move, Ex-Lax!” “Wochowski just got shot down by the Air Force!”
“Do you need some assistance, Lieutenant?” Captain Hardesty said, looking down at the man on the floor.
“Uh, no, ma’am,” he muttered.
“Then I suggest you leave now before my student really kicks your ass.”
The Marine pilots shuffled off in disgrace as the rest of the pilots in the bar howled at them.
“Maybe we should go get some food before Tompkins takes out any more jarheads,” Captain Stavros suggested.
They left the bar laughing and joking and spent the rest of the evening having a pleasant meal together. For the first time in the five months since starting pilot training, Casey felt herself start to relax around her classmates and IPs. This is kind of nice.
When they returned to the visiting officer quarters, Captain Hardesty hung back from the group with Casey.
“You did well on your flights today, Casey, and thank you for defending my honor from those drunken Marine pilots.”
“Any time, ma’am.”
“Try to get some sleep. You’ve got a very busy day tomorrow. Good night.”
“Yes, ma’am, see you tomorrow.” Casey watched Captain Hardesty retreat into her quarters, wondering what she slept in.