FIC: 1991 (04/11)
TITLE: 1991: Chapter 04
AUTHOR: Starbuck92
CATEGORY: Romance, Angst, Action/Adventure
PAIRINGS: Sam/Jack UST, Sam/Other (in the past)
SPOILERS: Nemesis, Small Victories
SEASON: 4
RATING: R
CONTENT WARNING: Language, minor character death, sexual situations
SUMMARY: Flying and friendship, love and loss - what was Sam Carter’s life like during the Persian Gulf War?
DISCLAIMER: The lovely characters of Stargate SG-1 do not belong to me, and I am making no money off this story. Please do not archive without permission.
Monday, November 19, 1990
‘Holy Hannah!’
Her father’s trademark phrase of expressing astonishment came unbidden to Carter’s mind as she looked down at the landscape of southern Saudi Arabia.
From her background reading, she recognized what they were flying over as one of the largest sand deserts in the world. Compared to the southwestern American deserts they had trained over, this location was astonishing in its sheer grandness. Massive sand dunes stretched as far as the eye could see, shifting almost imperceptibly in the wind.
“That’s the Rub-al-Khali down there,” Major Wells radioed the group. “250,000 square miles of desert. It’ll be the backdoor of our little base near Khamis Mushayt.”
The names of the desert and city closest to their base rolled effortlessly off her commanding officer’s tongue. Obviously, he had spent some time learning to correctly pronounce the unfamiliar Arabic names.
If it had been possible, Carter would have gladly spent the trip to the Middle East studying her English-to-Arabic dictionary, learning the pronunciations of useful words. As it was, she had been stuck in her fighter plane for hours going stir-crazy from the lack of things to do.
Late Saturday afternoon, the 4th and 421st Fighter Squadrons had departed Hill, flying nonstop across the continental United States and the Atlantic, refueling in midair. By early Sunday morning, the squadrons had reached Italy’s Aviano Air Base, where the pilots were allowed a couple of hours rest before heading off to their next destination. As the sun was setting, they were in the sky again, flying to Turkey’s Incirlik Air Base where they received their new trajectory.
The course took them across the waters of the Mediterranean, above the pyramids of Egypt, and over the narrow Red Sea. By dawn, they had their first glimpse of the rich, golden sands of Saudi Arabia from high above as they made their final approach toward the base.
As they flew further south, the elevation rose almost drastically, the landscape changing from sandy desert to rocky terrain.
The King Khalid Air Base was tucked away in the Asir Mountains in the extreme southwest region of Saudi Arabia. Nearby, the city of Khamis Mushayt was bustling with activity, a hub populated with market people and traders, occupied by approximately 35,000 citizens. The base itself was clearly visible outside the smaller market centers, the blinking runway lights serving as a beacon to the two American fighter squadrons.
“Hey, number 4 and 421! Greetings from King Khalid Air Base. Over,” an awfully cheerful voice announced over the open frequency.
Major Wells replied, “Reading you loud and clear, Khalid. Over.”
“Good to finally see you, Khalid. Over,” added Lieutenant Colonel Ryan Anderson, the commanding officer of the 4th Fighter Squadron.
“Copy that. You guys are cleared for landing on runway one. Welcome to Saudi Arabia, over.”
The planes eased down onto the runway two at a time and were immediately directed where to taxi. Ultimately, the two squadrons wound up facing across from each other, lined wingtip to wingtip by the runway in a couple of neat rows.
Carter smiled as she popped open the canopy, glad to finally be on solid ground once again. Unhooking her oxygen mask, she took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air, curiously looking around at the foreign surroundings.
Aside from the expansive desert to the east and the glimmer of the Red Sea to the west, things didn’t look too different from Hill. Military personnel bustled around the base, attending to various tasks from monitoring the perimeter to working on airplanes. Her friends sat in the cockpits of their fighter jets, conducting power down procedures just as they always had following the conclusion of a mission.
‘Just like home,’ she reminded herself, trying to believe it.
The sound of her ladder clanking against the hull of the plane drew her attention down to the unfamiliar face of one of her temporary crewman. He smiled politely.
“Morning, ma’am. I’m Sergeant Gomez.”
Furnishing him with a quick, courteous smile, she felt a pang of homesickness flood her, but hastily squelched down the feeling. The squadron’s personal maintenance crews were due to arrive at the base on a transport plane within the day. In the meantime, the least she could do was be nice to the temps.
After powering down the F-16, Carter thanked the crew and grabbed her gear, heading off to the command building for her orders. As she walked, she took her first look at the base from the ground, observing the sights and sounds that would eventually become habitual to her.
The King Khalid Air Base control tower was the tallest structure on the base, looming over the compounds and rows of tents below. Toward the eastern horizon, the dunes of the Rub-al-Khali were openly discernible. To the north, she could see the outlines of buildings along the outer limits of Khamis Mushayt.
The local scenery was a drastic change from the customary sight of having the Rocky Mountains in their backyard, where they constantly battled the elements of snow and ice. In Saudi, the odds of seeing any kind of wintry weather were unlikely. With the exception of nightfall, temperatures generally remained very warm in this part of the world throughout the winter season.
Upon arriving at the command building, she was directed by the SF at the door to report to the briefing room down the hall. Dutifully picking up her gear again, she strode into the large room, peering in.
Rows of chairs lined the spacious interior, facing forward toward a long blackboard covered in maps. Someone had drawn what she recognized as flight paths over Saudi Arabia, Iraq, and Kuwait. A multitude of colors decorated the maps of the region, and after studying them for a moment, Carter abruptly realized each color represented different branches of the U.S. military and the coalition forces stationed across the Middle East.
“What are you thinking, Wizard?”
A smile twitched her lips at the sound of Thompson’s voice. She hadn’t heard him approach from behind her. Either his stealth skills were improving, or she was losing her edges. Shaking her head marginally, she forced her attention away from the maps.
“I’m not thinking. Just looking,” she told him simply.
Grinning, Thompson replied, “Yeah, right. The day you stop thinking is the day hell freezes over.”
Nodding his head to the chairs, he beckoned her to follow him as more pilots began walking into the room.
The briefing was short and to the point.
Lieutenant Colonel Anderson introduced the base commanding officer, Brigadier General Grant Davis. The tall, gray-haired one-star greeted them gruffly before beginning his oration on what their current status was, sticking to the bare facts.
The United Nations had demanded the Iraqi forces withdraw from Kuwait by 0800 hours on January 15. If the mandate was not met, the coalition forces would be fully authorized to use whatever force necessary to end the incursion.
The two squadron commanders picked up the rest of the details after General Davis headed out to his next duty, informing them that their primary orders would be issued first thing tomorrow morning.
Wells and Anderson broke the squads into smaller groups, handing out manuals on the alternating assignments each group would be required to focus on. They ranged from briefings on bombing run scenarios and studying intelligence reports from Special Ops to logging hours in the skies over their command base in the F-16 Fighting Falcons and F-117 Nighthawks. During their downtime, the groups would be allowed time to attend to their personal interests.
Room assignments were dispensed, and afterwards, they were dismissed.
The pilots were fortunate to obtain better sleeping quarters than most of the other personnel on base due to the awkward hours they’d soon be keeping. Barracks were built into the hardened aircraft shelters, located in the same facilities where the invaluable stealth planes would be kept when they arrived, protecting the aircraft as well as the pilots who would be flying them.
Carter walked alongside Thompson and Lovell as they searched for their new quarters.
Captains James Martinez and Sean McCullough would be sharing the first room with Lieutenants Bobby Wood and Derek Hall across the hallway. Rupert O’Malley, Robert Fulco, Todd Hickam, and Jonathan Bennett had chosen to share the room next to theirs, and Sam Carter, Josh Thompson, and Matthew Lovell were situated across from them.
Carter dropped her gear beside one of the bunks, studying the cramped room. Her two friends tossed their own bags haphazardly into a corner before Thompson clambered up to claim the top bunk and Lovell dived onto the bottom one.
Turning around to face them, a wicked grin appeared on her face.
“If I hear moans coming from your side of the room tonight, should I just assume you’re telling scary stories?”
Thompson and Lovell froze, their mouths dropping open in surprise. Carter crossed her arms at her chest, smiling in delight as a wave of pride swept through her at the minor accomplishment. She definitely still had it in her to hang with the boys.
Their momentary shock at her coarse comment soon passed, and a mischievous, toothy smile found its way onto Lovell’s face. It was the one that always meant trouble.
“Better watch it, little sister, or you may wind up with some creepy, crawly bedmates. I read that scorpions love hiding out in blonde-haired, blue-eyed girls’ beds.”
Thompson snickered, pantomiming the Itsy-Bitsy Spider hand motions, drawing a glare from Carter and a laugh from Lovell, who gestured toward their bags.
“Come on, Josh. The sooner we unpack, the sooner we can look for Sammy’s new friends.”
As they lugged their bags onto their bunks, Carter leaned over and swung her rucksack on to the mattress. Grabbing something from within, she brandished it in their direction.
“Funny. But just so you know, I’ll be using this on ALL uninvited guests, and not just the eight-legged variety.”
To emphasize her point, she released a brief spurt of bug spray at them, grinning. Laughter emanated from Thompson and Lovell, who appreciated the good-natured barb.
Dragging her own duffel bag to her bunk, she sat and glanced around her new home, envisioning where to store everything. Sighing, Carter unzipped the large duffel, rummaging through it. Several pairs of BDUs, an extra pair of combat boots, lots of sunblock…
All of a sudden, a rustling sound seized her attention, and her hands stilled for a moment to listen carefully.
From across the room, a loud, high-pitched voice yelled, “Oh, Joshie!”
Another squeal rang through the air, followed by a falsetto voice shouting another name.
“Oh, Matty!”
Two pairs of boxers landed neatly on her nightstand, one hanging on to the small lamp, the other dangling just below it.
Turning her head to the articles of clothing, she raised her eyebrows at the decorative prints. One pair had a pattern of small airplanes set against a backdrop of white, fluffy clouds, while the other set was black with crisscrossing little red hearts.
Carter laughed out loud at the absurd patterns, smiling in delight at her friends’ attempt to lighten the atmosphere of the situation they were in. She was just catching her breath when she heard Jon Bennett yell from outside.
“Hey, hey, hey! Quit the hanky-panky till the sun goes down, boys!”
Breaking into another furious fit of giggles, Carter gasped for air, clutching her sides as the laughter shook her body. Once the boys had quieted down, she lay tranquilly on the bunk, wiping the remnants of laughing-induced tears from her face and smiling slightly, thankful for her friends’ never-ending sense of humor.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here after all.
* * *
Jack O’Neill grinned from ear to ear.
“Scorpions have a thing for blonde-haired, blue-eyed girls? Think I’ll keep that in mind the next time we find ourselves on one of those sandy planets you love so much.”
Carter winced, shaking her head.
“I wouldn’t count on that, sir.”
“Why not?”
Wrinkling her nose, she answered, “A scorpion’s sting isn’t something you want to become familiar with. Trust me.”
He raised his eyebrows, surprise etched on his face.
“Thompson and Lovell actually planted them in your bunk?”
“They tried to,” she admitted, remembering the day she found the pair of troublemakers attempting to sneak their new insect friends into her mattress.
“Matt wound up getting stung and was sick for a week.”
Carter grimaced as she recalled helping Thompson carry the feverish Lovell to the medical building. It wasn’t pretty. Between his incomprehensible sputtering and thrashing, he’d managed to vomit over both of them twice, finally settling down as the doctor injected him with antivenin to counteract the effects of the sting.
“Needless to say, they both learned a lesson, sir.”
A sly smile crossed O’Neill’s face.
“Think I can talk Daniel into handling them for me?”
“Colonel!” she exclaimed, momentarily appalled that he would consider such a thing before recognizing the good-humored look on his face. Chuckling, she bestowed him with a knowing glance.
“Sir, Daniel’s spent a good deal of time in Egypt. I’m sure he’s well-aware of how dangerous some scorpions can be.”
“Damn!” he cried out, feigning disappointment.
Carter smiled, appreciating his boundless, if at times twisted, sense of humor.
Craning her neck, she took note of how high the sun was located above the treetops. The morning had quickly turned into mid-afternoon during her storytelling, and her stomach rumbled earnestly, reminding her that her last meal, if you could call it that, had been hours ago. She rummaged through her pockets, searching for a couple of energy bars, and handed one to her CO.
The colonel accepted the package gratefully, pulling off the wrapper and munching hungrily, but he grimaced at the bland taste of the bar.
“Think we should start back for camp, sir?” she questioned.
Nodding in reply, O’Neill walked by her side, mindful of the leafy path while he finished the energy bar. He made a quick radio call to Teal’c, informing their companion that he and Carter were on their way back.
“Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went swiftly,” the major stated after a few minutes of silence, continuing her tale.
“When do they not?” he asked, stuffing their empty wrappers in his pocket.
Grinning, she replied, “I know what you mean. I spent more than a few of my Christmas and summer leaves in Texas with Josh’s family. Those days always passed by too quickly.”
All of a sudden, the colonel stopped in his tracks, an exaggerated look written all over his face.
“Wait just one minute! You’re telling me someone actually dragged you away from your work?” He placed a hand over his chest, clutching his heart. “Carter, I’m shocked!”
The major cocked her head to the side, smiling wryly.
“Very funny, sir.”
O’Neill laughed quietly, placing his hand upon her back and giving her a gentle push forward, signifying she should continue walking.
“His parents welcomed me with open arms. I think Mrs. Thompson loved having another woman in the house after raising two rough-and-tumble boys.”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before clambering over a fallen tree trunk.
“What about Jacob?”
Carter shrugged.
“He was stationed overseas throughout the duration of my instruction at the Academy, sir.”
Certainly, she missed her father while he was away, but after having grown up with him being gone most of the time, it wasn’t too big of deal by the time she had hit her twenties.
“During our second year, Josh noticed I was planning on spending another leave at school again, so he invited me to accompany him to Austin for Christmas. It became a tradition of sorts, spending the winters and summers in Texas.”
A small smile graced O’Neill’s lips.
“Run into General Hammond by any chance?”
Carter laughed quietly, shaking her head.
“No, sir. I think he’s from northern Texas, actually.”
“Ah.”
Plucking a large leaf off a low-hanging, thin branch, the colonel twisted its stem around in his fingers, twirling it back and forth. Carter couldn’t help but smile. The man always had to be doing something with his hands.
“So how did you keep busy all those months?”
Tugging the leaf out of his hand, she sighed.
“It was difficult, at first. I was so used to always doing something. Running simulations on the computers, training against other squadron members, working on my doctoral thesis. None of that was available to me in Saudi.”
Carter grinned as she recalled something.
“I think it was Major Wells who noticed how antsy I was becoming.”
“Did he order you to chill out?” he joked.
She bit her lower lip, trying to keep from smiling.
“As a matter of fact, sir…”
“You’re kidding!” he shouted. “You sure we’re talking about the same Brayden Wells here?”
“Yes, sir. Lieutenant Colonel Anderson later informed me that General Davis had ordered Major Wells to quit being so anxious all the time. Apparently, the major decided to pass that message down to me, as well.”
“I’m guessing you took his advice?”
Carter nodded, replying, “On my free days, I learned to just…hang out. Played cards with the guys, learned to ride a camel, went scuba diving in the Red Sea once.”
O’Neill quickly stepped in her path, blocking her.
“Hold it,” he said, raising his hands. “Did you just say you learned to ride a camel?”
Smiling broadly at his astonishment, she responded, “Yes, sir. I became quite adept. They’re actually very cute, once you get past the fact that they spit and smell.”
He shook his head in awe, mumbling, “You never cease to amaze me, Carter.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he quietly added, “At least you kids had it easy.”
Frowning slightly, she risked a glance at O’Neill.
His face was serene, but Carter wondered what errant thoughts and memories that calm exterior hid. The colonel wasn’t one who easily shared information about his past with anyone, but on occasion, he treated his team with bits and pieces of his history. After a few minutes of silence, it became apparent he would not be supplementing any more detail to his vague comment this time around.
The major mirrored her commanding officer’s earlier action, sliding her hands inside her pant pockets as she continued to walk beside him.
“Sometimes we would just sit and talk around the campfire, sharing good stories and bad coffee. Those are some of the moments I’ll never forget.”
* * *
Monday, December 31, 1990
Carter shivered as the chilly northeasterly wind rippled across the base, watching as the small campfire’s flames flickered and danced. She smiled in gratitude as Thompson and Lovell huddled closer to her in response, the combined body heat keeping them all warm.
On the other side of their private little New Year’s Eve getaway spot, O’Malley, Hickam, and Bennett braved the elements as well, keeping their camouflage jackets zipped up to their chins.
The small group listened intently as Bennett detailed his excursion to Khamis Mushayt during his last day off. He had enjoyed the trip so much, he planned to spend the entire day there tomorrow. O’Malley quickly volunteered to join him.
“Finding stuff to do on base is getting old,” he declared. “I want to see some city life before things start swinging around here.”
Thompson smiled.
“It’s nice over here, but I won’t consider it a true paradise until a warm ocean miraculously appears to complement all the sand.”
“Yeah, and some beautiful women in teeny bikinis!” Bennett added, laughing.
Carter cleared her throat, reminding them of her presence. Sometimes it was all too easy for them to forget she was a woman, and the thought both pleased and annoyed her.
On one hand, she prided herself on how much the young men considered her to be just as good a pilot and soldier as they were, regularly commending her refined skills and quick mind as they would any other flyboy.
On the other hand, there were times when it wasn’t so easy to blend in. She respected them as fellow officers and good friends, but from time to time they could be just as rude and uncouth as several of the closed-minded Air Force officers she had encountered through her career.
Lovell chuckled softly beside her, nudging her shoulder.
“Aw, Sammy, we know you’re beautiful, but you’re our little buddy.”
O’Malley grinned from across the campfire.
“Besides, we know you’d kick our ass if we ever tried to take advantage of you.”
Her companions smiled as she chucked some sand in his direction with her booted foot, well aware that they knew how capable she was.
By the time she’d been assigned to the 421st, Carter was proficient in hand-to-hand combat training. Her friends had helped her perfect her self-defense skills, sharpening her already remarkable abilities.
The thought made her pause for a moment as she remembered an earlier incident from today.
“I wish we could do more than kick sand at nuisances,” she mumbled, tossing her cold coffee behind her.
The group settled down at her soft comment, all of them apparently recalling how close Derek Hall had come to engaging in a fistfight with Carter this morning. The word had spread quickly among the junior officers in their squadron.
The pair had been reviewing satellite imagery of Baghdad, managing to grudgingly work in each other’s company despite the friction between them. Major Wells had just left them alone after checking their progress when Carter made an observation about a weather pattern.
Hall had vehemently disagreed, arguing his point against hers. Adamantly, Carter insisted she had spent twice the time working with such photographs during her post-graduate studies with Air Force and NASA satellite images and knew what she was doing.
The comment certainly hit a mark. Hall’s face had flushed beet red as he shoved the images to the ground.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked, a trace of anger laced in her voice.
Before he walked away, she heard him mutter, “You think you know everything about the space program, Carter. Why don’t you finish the project on your own?”
Unwilling to let go of the dispute, she trailed after him.
“Excuse me. We were ordered to work on this assignment together, Lieutenant Hall. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with Major Wells.”
He didn’t even spare her a glance as he kept marching.
Before she could stop herself, she spit out, “Maybe if you’d quit hassling me, you’d have more time to work on your own research on NASA technology!”
Carter consciously knew she had struck a nerve, calling to mind the fact that Hall had been studiously working on satellite research in hope of earning credentials that would impress NASA. It was a low blow comment, and the reaction she provoked didn’t exactly take her by surprise.
He spun around, throwing a wild punch in her direction in his outrage.
Ducking the high, unstable swing, she immediately raised her own fists in defense, prepared should he attempt to strike at her again. The sound of running feet barely registered in her mind as she carefully observed Hall, waiting for his next move. His pale, blue eyes shone with more resentment than she had ever encountered before, frightening her.
All of a sudden, O’Malley was driving Hall from her while Hickam grabbed hold of Carter’s upper arm, slowly pulling her a safe distance away.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” O’Malley shouted.
Hall had taken one look at the three of them before crossly stalking away, fuming.
Carter couldn’t help but remember the fights she’d gotten into with her brother, Mark, when she was younger. Both of them always ended up grounded when they were caught, despite Sam’s protests that Mark usually initiated the fighting.
Her father had continually told her it didn’t matter if her brother had started it because she regularly joined in the arguing instead of wisely walking away. Therefore, Sam was just as responsible for her actions as Mark was and would have to suffer the same consequences.
She sighed heavily as she considered what the consequences might have been had anyone other than O’Malley and Hickam witnessed the altercation. If a senior officer had seen them, she had no doubt that she and Hall would have immediately been shipped back to the States for their behavior, receiving a court-martial the second they stepped off the transport plane.
Carter looked up into the faces of her friends, the firelight casting her features in an orange glow.
“I don’t understand what I could have done to set him off on me in the beginning,” she wondered aloud.
Five pairs of eyes exchanged hesitant expressions before lowering their gazes to the ground. Right away, Carter grew suspicious, instantly realizing they knew something she didn’t and not liking it one bit.
“Spill it, guys,” she demanded, curious to discover what they had been concealing.
Hickam, the tranquil one of the bunch, was the first to speak.
“He thinks you’re a daddy’s girl, Sam,” he said quietly, running a hand through his dark, wavy hair uneasily.
“What?”
Bennett nodded in agreement, all his usual joking put aside.
“He’s always felt that just because your dad is a general, you’re going to get an easy ride into NASA when the time comes.”
She closed her eyes.
How could she have missed something like that? She personally knew that a number of the people assigned to the 388th Tactical Fighter Wing had big dreams of working their way into the space program eventually. Hell, she was one of them!
For months, Carter had been aware of the fact that her bitter rival also held those kind of dreams, striving to work his way up the scientific community with his studies on satellite technology between his rigorous flying exercises. She was also conscious of the number of people who fully and openly supported her own studies in the field of astrophysics, all of them giving her a helping hand up the ladder of success, including her father, despite her protests.
She could have kicked herself for not adding things up sooner. The jealousy and acrimony Hall constantly displayed suddenly became crystal clear in her eyes.
“I won’t lie to you, guys. My dad did make it reasonably easy for me to get accepted into the Academy,” she admitted sullenly.
“He may have,” Thompson agreed, taking her gloved hand in his own. “But recommendations only go so far, Sam. Your accomplishments are too impressive to pass up.”
Carter glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, listening attentively as he continued enthusiastically.
“Besides, look at everything you’ve done since then! You graduated at the top of your class, flew circles around the rest of us in flight school, and earned your Masters a year ahead of schedule. Your dad can’t take any credit for that.”
He squeezed her hand, gazing straight into her eyes.
“That was all Sam Carter. Not anyone else.”
From across the campfire, Bennett exclaimed, “I’ll raise my sludgy coffee to that!”
Suddenly, their digital watches went off within seconds of each other, alerting them that it was finally midnight. Another year had passed, and now a new one was beginning.
Farewell to 1990. Welcome to 1991.
The six friends stood and wished one another a happy new year before sauntering off to their quarters, ready for some sleep. Thompson and Carter hung back from the rest of the group, walking slowly and continuing to hold on to each other’s hands.
Despite the late hour, their little airstrip hummed with movement.
Troops patrolled the perimeter, keeping an eye out for any signs of hostile activity. A contingent of newly assigned Special Forces watched over the stealth fighters, cautiously looking out for anyone trying to sneak a closer peek at the black jets. Here and there, handfuls of hired Saudi Arabian Bedouins worked various jobs, helping out with random tasks.
Carter instinctively moved closer to Thompson as one of them passed by, guiding three camels to their holding pen. The man smiled nervously at them, clutching his dark cloak to his body.
She wasn’t sure of his name, but she’d previously seen him around the base. For some reason, she always felt a hint of distrust and unease whenever he was near, unable to shake the uncontrolled reaction. Clasping Thompson’s hand tighter, she shook her head slightly. It was more than likely nothing.
Finally, they arrived outside the entrance to their sleeping quarters.
Carter and Thompson’s eyes were glued to the clear, star-filled sky, watching in rapt fascination as a satellite passed by overhead.
She smiled as the object streaked across the heavens, considering her own hopes and dreams to someday have the opportunity to go into space. Her confidence in her ability to reach her goal continued to expand with each passing day. Of course, a little encouragement from friends always helped boost that confidence.
‘Your accomplishments are too impressive to pass up.’
Thompson’s words echoed through her mind as she turned to look upon her friend.
He was craning his neck to gaze adoringly at the stars above, his face holding all the wonder of a young boy. Regardless of his exceptional talent as a fighter pilot, Carter knew that rockets were his passion and strongest forte.
A few days ago, he had confided in her his desire to return home to work on new rocket designs as soon as their tour overseas was completed. Carter had listened intently as he explained his theories, feeling as if they were back home trading ideas like they used to before the chaos unfolding in the Persian Gulf had captured all of his interest.
She had smiled at him, glad he had taken up her advice to investigate celestial mechanics, the science of understanding the motions of particles in space. Combined with his knowledge of propulsion, his groundbreaking ideas had thoroughly amazed her.
As if sensing her eyes upon him, he finally tore his attention away from the night sky, smiling openly at her.
“I appreciate what you said tonight,” she told him sincerely.
Thompson ducked his head, a faint blush staining his cheeks as he murmured, “Hey, it’s what I’m here for.”
After a quick moment, he recollected himself and motioned to the stealth planes parked inside their state-of-the-art hangar bays.
“Well, that and flying those babies, anyway.”
Carter smiled, squeezing his fingers.
“Glad to know I mean as much as you as a Nighthawk, Josh.”
“You know those aircraft mean the world to me, Sam,” he deadpanned seriously, garnering a laugh from his companion.
The easygoing smile returned to his face as he asked, “Do you want to go log some hours together tomorrow?”
“That sounds great, Josh. You’d better be up bright and early.”
His grin broadened, and before she could react, he bent and placed a swift kiss at the corner of her mouth, whispering, “Happy New Year, Sam.”
She caught a fleeting glance at his shy smile before he escaped inside. Carter stood rooted in the same location, blinking in surprise at the tingling spot where his lips had been only moments ago. A slow smile graced her face, her eyes sparkling in the bright moonlight.
Taking one last look at the stars above, she strode inside, making her way down the corridor. Arriving at the correct door, she quietly entered the darkened room, noticing the silhouettes of the boys in their respective bunks. Removing her boots, she stretched out on her own bunk, falling asleep with the smile still playing on her lips.
Neither Carter nor Thompson made further mention of the kiss that New Year’s Eve, but both realized something in their relationship had shifted. The line separating friendship and something more intimate had become paper thin, nearly invisible in the love struck pair’s eyes.
Between the preparations for their upcoming missions, they managed to reserve some time alone every day. Whether deep in thought while playing a game of chess or quietly conversing in the comfort of each other’s arms, they enjoyed the simple pleasure of one other’s company.
Two weeks seemed to pass by in a flash, and before they knew it, the fifteenth of January had arrived. Personnel around the base kept a wary eye on their watches that morning, counting down the hours.
Carter tensely glanced down at her wristwatch as it beeped, grimacing at the time.
0800 hours.
No news of a withdrawal.
Continued in Chapter 5.
AUTHOR: Starbuck92
CATEGORY: Romance, Angst, Action/Adventure
PAIRINGS: Sam/Jack UST, Sam/Other (in the past)
SPOILERS: Nemesis, Small Victories
SEASON: 4
RATING: R
CONTENT WARNING: Language, minor character death, sexual situations
SUMMARY: Flying and friendship, love and loss - what was Sam Carter’s life like during the Persian Gulf War?
DISCLAIMER: The lovely characters of Stargate SG-1 do not belong to me, and I am making no money off this story. Please do not archive without permission.
Monday, November 19, 1990
‘Holy Hannah!’
Her father’s trademark phrase of expressing astonishment came unbidden to Carter’s mind as she looked down at the landscape of southern Saudi Arabia.
From her background reading, she recognized what they were flying over as one of the largest sand deserts in the world. Compared to the southwestern American deserts they had trained over, this location was astonishing in its sheer grandness. Massive sand dunes stretched as far as the eye could see, shifting almost imperceptibly in the wind.
“That’s the Rub-al-Khali down there,” Major Wells radioed the group. “250,000 square miles of desert. It’ll be the backdoor of our little base near Khamis Mushayt.”
The names of the desert and city closest to their base rolled effortlessly off her commanding officer’s tongue. Obviously, he had spent some time learning to correctly pronounce the unfamiliar Arabic names.
If it had been possible, Carter would have gladly spent the trip to the Middle East studying her English-to-Arabic dictionary, learning the pronunciations of useful words. As it was, she had been stuck in her fighter plane for hours going stir-crazy from the lack of things to do.
Late Saturday afternoon, the 4th and 421st Fighter Squadrons had departed Hill, flying nonstop across the continental United States and the Atlantic, refueling in midair. By early Sunday morning, the squadrons had reached Italy’s Aviano Air Base, where the pilots were allowed a couple of hours rest before heading off to their next destination. As the sun was setting, they were in the sky again, flying to Turkey’s Incirlik Air Base where they received their new trajectory.
The course took them across the waters of the Mediterranean, above the pyramids of Egypt, and over the narrow Red Sea. By dawn, they had their first glimpse of the rich, golden sands of Saudi Arabia from high above as they made their final approach toward the base.
As they flew further south, the elevation rose almost drastically, the landscape changing from sandy desert to rocky terrain.
The King Khalid Air Base was tucked away in the Asir Mountains in the extreme southwest region of Saudi Arabia. Nearby, the city of Khamis Mushayt was bustling with activity, a hub populated with market people and traders, occupied by approximately 35,000 citizens. The base itself was clearly visible outside the smaller market centers, the blinking runway lights serving as a beacon to the two American fighter squadrons.
“Hey, number 4 and 421! Greetings from King Khalid Air Base. Over,” an awfully cheerful voice announced over the open frequency.
Major Wells replied, “Reading you loud and clear, Khalid. Over.”
“Good to finally see you, Khalid. Over,” added Lieutenant Colonel Ryan Anderson, the commanding officer of the 4th Fighter Squadron.
“Copy that. You guys are cleared for landing on runway one. Welcome to Saudi Arabia, over.”
The planes eased down onto the runway two at a time and were immediately directed where to taxi. Ultimately, the two squadrons wound up facing across from each other, lined wingtip to wingtip by the runway in a couple of neat rows.
Carter smiled as she popped open the canopy, glad to finally be on solid ground once again. Unhooking her oxygen mask, she took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air, curiously looking around at the foreign surroundings.
Aside from the expansive desert to the east and the glimmer of the Red Sea to the west, things didn’t look too different from Hill. Military personnel bustled around the base, attending to various tasks from monitoring the perimeter to working on airplanes. Her friends sat in the cockpits of their fighter jets, conducting power down procedures just as they always had following the conclusion of a mission.
‘Just like home,’ she reminded herself, trying to believe it.
The sound of her ladder clanking against the hull of the plane drew her attention down to the unfamiliar face of one of her temporary crewman. He smiled politely.
“Morning, ma’am. I’m Sergeant Gomez.”
Furnishing him with a quick, courteous smile, she felt a pang of homesickness flood her, but hastily squelched down the feeling. The squadron’s personal maintenance crews were due to arrive at the base on a transport plane within the day. In the meantime, the least she could do was be nice to the temps.
After powering down the F-16, Carter thanked the crew and grabbed her gear, heading off to the command building for her orders. As she walked, she took her first look at the base from the ground, observing the sights and sounds that would eventually become habitual to her.
The King Khalid Air Base control tower was the tallest structure on the base, looming over the compounds and rows of tents below. Toward the eastern horizon, the dunes of the Rub-al-Khali were openly discernible. To the north, she could see the outlines of buildings along the outer limits of Khamis Mushayt.
The local scenery was a drastic change from the customary sight of having the Rocky Mountains in their backyard, where they constantly battled the elements of snow and ice. In Saudi, the odds of seeing any kind of wintry weather were unlikely. With the exception of nightfall, temperatures generally remained very warm in this part of the world throughout the winter season.
Upon arriving at the command building, she was directed by the SF at the door to report to the briefing room down the hall. Dutifully picking up her gear again, she strode into the large room, peering in.
Rows of chairs lined the spacious interior, facing forward toward a long blackboard covered in maps. Someone had drawn what she recognized as flight paths over Saudi Arabia, Iraq, and Kuwait. A multitude of colors decorated the maps of the region, and after studying them for a moment, Carter abruptly realized each color represented different branches of the U.S. military and the coalition forces stationed across the Middle East.
“What are you thinking, Wizard?”
A smile twitched her lips at the sound of Thompson’s voice. She hadn’t heard him approach from behind her. Either his stealth skills were improving, or she was losing her edges. Shaking her head marginally, she forced her attention away from the maps.
“I’m not thinking. Just looking,” she told him simply.
Grinning, Thompson replied, “Yeah, right. The day you stop thinking is the day hell freezes over.”
Nodding his head to the chairs, he beckoned her to follow him as more pilots began walking into the room.
The briefing was short and to the point.
Lieutenant Colonel Anderson introduced the base commanding officer, Brigadier General Grant Davis. The tall, gray-haired one-star greeted them gruffly before beginning his oration on what their current status was, sticking to the bare facts.
The United Nations had demanded the Iraqi forces withdraw from Kuwait by 0800 hours on January 15. If the mandate was not met, the coalition forces would be fully authorized to use whatever force necessary to end the incursion.
The two squadron commanders picked up the rest of the details after General Davis headed out to his next duty, informing them that their primary orders would be issued first thing tomorrow morning.
Wells and Anderson broke the squads into smaller groups, handing out manuals on the alternating assignments each group would be required to focus on. They ranged from briefings on bombing run scenarios and studying intelligence reports from Special Ops to logging hours in the skies over their command base in the F-16 Fighting Falcons and F-117 Nighthawks. During their downtime, the groups would be allowed time to attend to their personal interests.
Room assignments were dispensed, and afterwards, they were dismissed.
The pilots were fortunate to obtain better sleeping quarters than most of the other personnel on base due to the awkward hours they’d soon be keeping. Barracks were built into the hardened aircraft shelters, located in the same facilities where the invaluable stealth planes would be kept when they arrived, protecting the aircraft as well as the pilots who would be flying them.
Carter walked alongside Thompson and Lovell as they searched for their new quarters.
Captains James Martinez and Sean McCullough would be sharing the first room with Lieutenants Bobby Wood and Derek Hall across the hallway. Rupert O’Malley, Robert Fulco, Todd Hickam, and Jonathan Bennett had chosen to share the room next to theirs, and Sam Carter, Josh Thompson, and Matthew Lovell were situated across from them.
Carter dropped her gear beside one of the bunks, studying the cramped room. Her two friends tossed their own bags haphazardly into a corner before Thompson clambered up to claim the top bunk and Lovell dived onto the bottom one.
Turning around to face them, a wicked grin appeared on her face.
“If I hear moans coming from your side of the room tonight, should I just assume you’re telling scary stories?”
Thompson and Lovell froze, their mouths dropping open in surprise. Carter crossed her arms at her chest, smiling in delight as a wave of pride swept through her at the minor accomplishment. She definitely still had it in her to hang with the boys.
Their momentary shock at her coarse comment soon passed, and a mischievous, toothy smile found its way onto Lovell’s face. It was the one that always meant trouble.
“Better watch it, little sister, or you may wind up with some creepy, crawly bedmates. I read that scorpions love hiding out in blonde-haired, blue-eyed girls’ beds.”
Thompson snickered, pantomiming the Itsy-Bitsy Spider hand motions, drawing a glare from Carter and a laugh from Lovell, who gestured toward their bags.
“Come on, Josh. The sooner we unpack, the sooner we can look for Sammy’s new friends.”
As they lugged their bags onto their bunks, Carter leaned over and swung her rucksack on to the mattress. Grabbing something from within, she brandished it in their direction.
“Funny. But just so you know, I’ll be using this on ALL uninvited guests, and not just the eight-legged variety.”
To emphasize her point, she released a brief spurt of bug spray at them, grinning. Laughter emanated from Thompson and Lovell, who appreciated the good-natured barb.
Dragging her own duffel bag to her bunk, she sat and glanced around her new home, envisioning where to store everything. Sighing, Carter unzipped the large duffel, rummaging through it. Several pairs of BDUs, an extra pair of combat boots, lots of sunblock…
All of a sudden, a rustling sound seized her attention, and her hands stilled for a moment to listen carefully.
From across the room, a loud, high-pitched voice yelled, “Oh, Joshie!”
Another squeal rang through the air, followed by a falsetto voice shouting another name.
“Oh, Matty!”
Two pairs of boxers landed neatly on her nightstand, one hanging on to the small lamp, the other dangling just below it.
Turning her head to the articles of clothing, she raised her eyebrows at the decorative prints. One pair had a pattern of small airplanes set against a backdrop of white, fluffy clouds, while the other set was black with crisscrossing little red hearts.
Carter laughed out loud at the absurd patterns, smiling in delight at her friends’ attempt to lighten the atmosphere of the situation they were in. She was just catching her breath when she heard Jon Bennett yell from outside.
“Hey, hey, hey! Quit the hanky-panky till the sun goes down, boys!”
Breaking into another furious fit of giggles, Carter gasped for air, clutching her sides as the laughter shook her body. Once the boys had quieted down, she lay tranquilly on the bunk, wiping the remnants of laughing-induced tears from her face and smiling slightly, thankful for her friends’ never-ending sense of humor.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here after all.
* * *
Jack O’Neill grinned from ear to ear.
“Scorpions have a thing for blonde-haired, blue-eyed girls? Think I’ll keep that in mind the next time we find ourselves on one of those sandy planets you love so much.”
Carter winced, shaking her head.
“I wouldn’t count on that, sir.”
“Why not?”
Wrinkling her nose, she answered, “A scorpion’s sting isn’t something you want to become familiar with. Trust me.”
He raised his eyebrows, surprise etched on his face.
“Thompson and Lovell actually planted them in your bunk?”
“They tried to,” she admitted, remembering the day she found the pair of troublemakers attempting to sneak their new insect friends into her mattress.
“Matt wound up getting stung and was sick for a week.”
Carter grimaced as she recalled helping Thompson carry the feverish Lovell to the medical building. It wasn’t pretty. Between his incomprehensible sputtering and thrashing, he’d managed to vomit over both of them twice, finally settling down as the doctor injected him with antivenin to counteract the effects of the sting.
“Needless to say, they both learned a lesson, sir.”
A sly smile crossed O’Neill’s face.
“Think I can talk Daniel into handling them for me?”
“Colonel!” she exclaimed, momentarily appalled that he would consider such a thing before recognizing the good-humored look on his face. Chuckling, she bestowed him with a knowing glance.
“Sir, Daniel’s spent a good deal of time in Egypt. I’m sure he’s well-aware of how dangerous some scorpions can be.”
“Damn!” he cried out, feigning disappointment.
Carter smiled, appreciating his boundless, if at times twisted, sense of humor.
Craning her neck, she took note of how high the sun was located above the treetops. The morning had quickly turned into mid-afternoon during her storytelling, and her stomach rumbled earnestly, reminding her that her last meal, if you could call it that, had been hours ago. She rummaged through her pockets, searching for a couple of energy bars, and handed one to her CO.
The colonel accepted the package gratefully, pulling off the wrapper and munching hungrily, but he grimaced at the bland taste of the bar.
“Think we should start back for camp, sir?” she questioned.
Nodding in reply, O’Neill walked by her side, mindful of the leafy path while he finished the energy bar. He made a quick radio call to Teal’c, informing their companion that he and Carter were on their way back.
“Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went swiftly,” the major stated after a few minutes of silence, continuing her tale.
“When do they not?” he asked, stuffing their empty wrappers in his pocket.
Grinning, she replied, “I know what you mean. I spent more than a few of my Christmas and summer leaves in Texas with Josh’s family. Those days always passed by too quickly.”
All of a sudden, the colonel stopped in his tracks, an exaggerated look written all over his face.
“Wait just one minute! You’re telling me someone actually dragged you away from your work?” He placed a hand over his chest, clutching his heart. “Carter, I’m shocked!”
The major cocked her head to the side, smiling wryly.
“Very funny, sir.”
O’Neill laughed quietly, placing his hand upon her back and giving her a gentle push forward, signifying she should continue walking.
“His parents welcomed me with open arms. I think Mrs. Thompson loved having another woman in the house after raising two rough-and-tumble boys.”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before clambering over a fallen tree trunk.
“What about Jacob?”
Carter shrugged.
“He was stationed overseas throughout the duration of my instruction at the Academy, sir.”
Certainly, she missed her father while he was away, but after having grown up with him being gone most of the time, it wasn’t too big of deal by the time she had hit her twenties.
“During our second year, Josh noticed I was planning on spending another leave at school again, so he invited me to accompany him to Austin for Christmas. It became a tradition of sorts, spending the winters and summers in Texas.”
A small smile graced O’Neill’s lips.
“Run into General Hammond by any chance?”
Carter laughed quietly, shaking her head.
“No, sir. I think he’s from northern Texas, actually.”
“Ah.”
Plucking a large leaf off a low-hanging, thin branch, the colonel twisted its stem around in his fingers, twirling it back and forth. Carter couldn’t help but smile. The man always had to be doing something with his hands.
“So how did you keep busy all those months?”
Tugging the leaf out of his hand, she sighed.
“It was difficult, at first. I was so used to always doing something. Running simulations on the computers, training against other squadron members, working on my doctoral thesis. None of that was available to me in Saudi.”
Carter grinned as she recalled something.
“I think it was Major Wells who noticed how antsy I was becoming.”
“Did he order you to chill out?” he joked.
She bit her lower lip, trying to keep from smiling.
“As a matter of fact, sir…”
“You’re kidding!” he shouted. “You sure we’re talking about the same Brayden Wells here?”
“Yes, sir. Lieutenant Colonel Anderson later informed me that General Davis had ordered Major Wells to quit being so anxious all the time. Apparently, the major decided to pass that message down to me, as well.”
“I’m guessing you took his advice?”
Carter nodded, replying, “On my free days, I learned to just…hang out. Played cards with the guys, learned to ride a camel, went scuba diving in the Red Sea once.”
O’Neill quickly stepped in her path, blocking her.
“Hold it,” he said, raising his hands. “Did you just say you learned to ride a camel?”
Smiling broadly at his astonishment, she responded, “Yes, sir. I became quite adept. They’re actually very cute, once you get past the fact that they spit and smell.”
He shook his head in awe, mumbling, “You never cease to amaze me, Carter.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he quietly added, “At least you kids had it easy.”
Frowning slightly, she risked a glance at O’Neill.
His face was serene, but Carter wondered what errant thoughts and memories that calm exterior hid. The colonel wasn’t one who easily shared information about his past with anyone, but on occasion, he treated his team with bits and pieces of his history. After a few minutes of silence, it became apparent he would not be supplementing any more detail to his vague comment this time around.
The major mirrored her commanding officer’s earlier action, sliding her hands inside her pant pockets as she continued to walk beside him.
“Sometimes we would just sit and talk around the campfire, sharing good stories and bad coffee. Those are some of the moments I’ll never forget.”
* * *
Monday, December 31, 1990
Carter shivered as the chilly northeasterly wind rippled across the base, watching as the small campfire’s flames flickered and danced. She smiled in gratitude as Thompson and Lovell huddled closer to her in response, the combined body heat keeping them all warm.
On the other side of their private little New Year’s Eve getaway spot, O’Malley, Hickam, and Bennett braved the elements as well, keeping their camouflage jackets zipped up to their chins.
The small group listened intently as Bennett detailed his excursion to Khamis Mushayt during his last day off. He had enjoyed the trip so much, he planned to spend the entire day there tomorrow. O’Malley quickly volunteered to join him.
“Finding stuff to do on base is getting old,” he declared. “I want to see some city life before things start swinging around here.”
Thompson smiled.
“It’s nice over here, but I won’t consider it a true paradise until a warm ocean miraculously appears to complement all the sand.”
“Yeah, and some beautiful women in teeny bikinis!” Bennett added, laughing.
Carter cleared her throat, reminding them of her presence. Sometimes it was all too easy for them to forget she was a woman, and the thought both pleased and annoyed her.
On one hand, she prided herself on how much the young men considered her to be just as good a pilot and soldier as they were, regularly commending her refined skills and quick mind as they would any other flyboy.
On the other hand, there were times when it wasn’t so easy to blend in. She respected them as fellow officers and good friends, but from time to time they could be just as rude and uncouth as several of the closed-minded Air Force officers she had encountered through her career.
Lovell chuckled softly beside her, nudging her shoulder.
“Aw, Sammy, we know you’re beautiful, but you’re our little buddy.”
O’Malley grinned from across the campfire.
“Besides, we know you’d kick our ass if we ever tried to take advantage of you.”
Her companions smiled as she chucked some sand in his direction with her booted foot, well aware that they knew how capable she was.
By the time she’d been assigned to the 421st, Carter was proficient in hand-to-hand combat training. Her friends had helped her perfect her self-defense skills, sharpening her already remarkable abilities.
The thought made her pause for a moment as she remembered an earlier incident from today.
“I wish we could do more than kick sand at nuisances,” she mumbled, tossing her cold coffee behind her.
The group settled down at her soft comment, all of them apparently recalling how close Derek Hall had come to engaging in a fistfight with Carter this morning. The word had spread quickly among the junior officers in their squadron.
The pair had been reviewing satellite imagery of Baghdad, managing to grudgingly work in each other’s company despite the friction between them. Major Wells had just left them alone after checking their progress when Carter made an observation about a weather pattern.
Hall had vehemently disagreed, arguing his point against hers. Adamantly, Carter insisted she had spent twice the time working with such photographs during her post-graduate studies with Air Force and NASA satellite images and knew what she was doing.
The comment certainly hit a mark. Hall’s face had flushed beet red as he shoved the images to the ground.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked, a trace of anger laced in her voice.
Before he walked away, she heard him mutter, “You think you know everything about the space program, Carter. Why don’t you finish the project on your own?”
Unwilling to let go of the dispute, she trailed after him.
“Excuse me. We were ordered to work on this assignment together, Lieutenant Hall. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with Major Wells.”
He didn’t even spare her a glance as he kept marching.
Before she could stop herself, she spit out, “Maybe if you’d quit hassling me, you’d have more time to work on your own research on NASA technology!”
Carter consciously knew she had struck a nerve, calling to mind the fact that Hall had been studiously working on satellite research in hope of earning credentials that would impress NASA. It was a low blow comment, and the reaction she provoked didn’t exactly take her by surprise.
He spun around, throwing a wild punch in her direction in his outrage.
Ducking the high, unstable swing, she immediately raised her own fists in defense, prepared should he attempt to strike at her again. The sound of running feet barely registered in her mind as she carefully observed Hall, waiting for his next move. His pale, blue eyes shone with more resentment than she had ever encountered before, frightening her.
All of a sudden, O’Malley was driving Hall from her while Hickam grabbed hold of Carter’s upper arm, slowly pulling her a safe distance away.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” O’Malley shouted.
Hall had taken one look at the three of them before crossly stalking away, fuming.
Carter couldn’t help but remember the fights she’d gotten into with her brother, Mark, when she was younger. Both of them always ended up grounded when they were caught, despite Sam’s protests that Mark usually initiated the fighting.
Her father had continually told her it didn’t matter if her brother had started it because she regularly joined in the arguing instead of wisely walking away. Therefore, Sam was just as responsible for her actions as Mark was and would have to suffer the same consequences.
She sighed heavily as she considered what the consequences might have been had anyone other than O’Malley and Hickam witnessed the altercation. If a senior officer had seen them, she had no doubt that she and Hall would have immediately been shipped back to the States for their behavior, receiving a court-martial the second they stepped off the transport plane.
Carter looked up into the faces of her friends, the firelight casting her features in an orange glow.
“I don’t understand what I could have done to set him off on me in the beginning,” she wondered aloud.
Five pairs of eyes exchanged hesitant expressions before lowering their gazes to the ground. Right away, Carter grew suspicious, instantly realizing they knew something she didn’t and not liking it one bit.
“Spill it, guys,” she demanded, curious to discover what they had been concealing.
Hickam, the tranquil one of the bunch, was the first to speak.
“He thinks you’re a daddy’s girl, Sam,” he said quietly, running a hand through his dark, wavy hair uneasily.
“What?”
Bennett nodded in agreement, all his usual joking put aside.
“He’s always felt that just because your dad is a general, you’re going to get an easy ride into NASA when the time comes.”
She closed her eyes.
How could she have missed something like that? She personally knew that a number of the people assigned to the 388th Tactical Fighter Wing had big dreams of working their way into the space program eventually. Hell, she was one of them!
For months, Carter had been aware of the fact that her bitter rival also held those kind of dreams, striving to work his way up the scientific community with his studies on satellite technology between his rigorous flying exercises. She was also conscious of the number of people who fully and openly supported her own studies in the field of astrophysics, all of them giving her a helping hand up the ladder of success, including her father, despite her protests.
She could have kicked herself for not adding things up sooner. The jealousy and acrimony Hall constantly displayed suddenly became crystal clear in her eyes.
“I won’t lie to you, guys. My dad did make it reasonably easy for me to get accepted into the Academy,” she admitted sullenly.
“He may have,” Thompson agreed, taking her gloved hand in his own. “But recommendations only go so far, Sam. Your accomplishments are too impressive to pass up.”
Carter glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, listening attentively as he continued enthusiastically.
“Besides, look at everything you’ve done since then! You graduated at the top of your class, flew circles around the rest of us in flight school, and earned your Masters a year ahead of schedule. Your dad can’t take any credit for that.”
He squeezed her hand, gazing straight into her eyes.
“That was all Sam Carter. Not anyone else.”
From across the campfire, Bennett exclaimed, “I’ll raise my sludgy coffee to that!”
Suddenly, their digital watches went off within seconds of each other, alerting them that it was finally midnight. Another year had passed, and now a new one was beginning.
Farewell to 1990. Welcome to 1991.
The six friends stood and wished one another a happy new year before sauntering off to their quarters, ready for some sleep. Thompson and Carter hung back from the rest of the group, walking slowly and continuing to hold on to each other’s hands.
Despite the late hour, their little airstrip hummed with movement.
Troops patrolled the perimeter, keeping an eye out for any signs of hostile activity. A contingent of newly assigned Special Forces watched over the stealth fighters, cautiously looking out for anyone trying to sneak a closer peek at the black jets. Here and there, handfuls of hired Saudi Arabian Bedouins worked various jobs, helping out with random tasks.
Carter instinctively moved closer to Thompson as one of them passed by, guiding three camels to their holding pen. The man smiled nervously at them, clutching his dark cloak to his body.
She wasn’t sure of his name, but she’d previously seen him around the base. For some reason, she always felt a hint of distrust and unease whenever he was near, unable to shake the uncontrolled reaction. Clasping Thompson’s hand tighter, she shook her head slightly. It was more than likely nothing.
Finally, they arrived outside the entrance to their sleeping quarters.
Carter and Thompson’s eyes were glued to the clear, star-filled sky, watching in rapt fascination as a satellite passed by overhead.
She smiled as the object streaked across the heavens, considering her own hopes and dreams to someday have the opportunity to go into space. Her confidence in her ability to reach her goal continued to expand with each passing day. Of course, a little encouragement from friends always helped boost that confidence.
‘Your accomplishments are too impressive to pass up.’
Thompson’s words echoed through her mind as she turned to look upon her friend.
He was craning his neck to gaze adoringly at the stars above, his face holding all the wonder of a young boy. Regardless of his exceptional talent as a fighter pilot, Carter knew that rockets were his passion and strongest forte.
A few days ago, he had confided in her his desire to return home to work on new rocket designs as soon as their tour overseas was completed. Carter had listened intently as he explained his theories, feeling as if they were back home trading ideas like they used to before the chaos unfolding in the Persian Gulf had captured all of his interest.
She had smiled at him, glad he had taken up her advice to investigate celestial mechanics, the science of understanding the motions of particles in space. Combined with his knowledge of propulsion, his groundbreaking ideas had thoroughly amazed her.
As if sensing her eyes upon him, he finally tore his attention away from the night sky, smiling openly at her.
“I appreciate what you said tonight,” she told him sincerely.
Thompson ducked his head, a faint blush staining his cheeks as he murmured, “Hey, it’s what I’m here for.”
After a quick moment, he recollected himself and motioned to the stealth planes parked inside their state-of-the-art hangar bays.
“Well, that and flying those babies, anyway.”
Carter smiled, squeezing his fingers.
“Glad to know I mean as much as you as a Nighthawk, Josh.”
“You know those aircraft mean the world to me, Sam,” he deadpanned seriously, garnering a laugh from his companion.
The easygoing smile returned to his face as he asked, “Do you want to go log some hours together tomorrow?”
“That sounds great, Josh. You’d better be up bright and early.”
His grin broadened, and before she could react, he bent and placed a swift kiss at the corner of her mouth, whispering, “Happy New Year, Sam.”
She caught a fleeting glance at his shy smile before he escaped inside. Carter stood rooted in the same location, blinking in surprise at the tingling spot where his lips had been only moments ago. A slow smile graced her face, her eyes sparkling in the bright moonlight.
Taking one last look at the stars above, she strode inside, making her way down the corridor. Arriving at the correct door, she quietly entered the darkened room, noticing the silhouettes of the boys in their respective bunks. Removing her boots, she stretched out on her own bunk, falling asleep with the smile still playing on her lips.
Neither Carter nor Thompson made further mention of the kiss that New Year’s Eve, but both realized something in their relationship had shifted. The line separating friendship and something more intimate had become paper thin, nearly invisible in the love struck pair’s eyes.
Between the preparations for their upcoming missions, they managed to reserve some time alone every day. Whether deep in thought while playing a game of chess or quietly conversing in the comfort of each other’s arms, they enjoyed the simple pleasure of one other’s company.
Two weeks seemed to pass by in a flash, and before they knew it, the fifteenth of January had arrived. Personnel around the base kept a wary eye on their watches that morning, counting down the hours.
Carter tensely glanced down at her wristwatch as it beeped, grimacing at the time.
0800 hours.
No news of a withdrawal.
Continued in Chapter 5.