Page 74 of Fire Meets Fire

Purposefully she strides up to the aircraft we’d bought for the club to own and her to fly.

“It’s all checked and ready to go,” one of the mechanics, clearly with stars in his eyes, informs my old lady. “Looking forward to seeing you put it through its paces.”

She distractedly offers him a smile, her focus on the helicopter now. “I’m rusty,” she warns. Then, “Can I look?” She gestures toward a clipboard he’s holding and, having taken it from him when offered, approaches the craft.

“What the fuck is she doing?” an impatient Fire asks after a few minutes pass and it seems like Helo is double-checking everything. “Shouldn’t she just get into the fuckin’ thing and fly?”

Overhearing, Carlton chuckles by my side. “Another sign she’s an ace pilot. She’ll never rely on the word of anyone else and will give the helicopter its full inspection to reassure herself it’s ready to fly.”

Watching her more carefully, I see her complete her check of the rotors, then carefully inspect every inch of the fuselage. She’s now on her knees, looking at the wheels and whatever holdsthem in place. Next she opens the engine compartment and gives it a thorough check.

She climbs into the cockpit, and clearly it’s the controls time to be given the once-over. She yanks at the seat belts and murmurs to herself as if she finds everything satisfactory. Then she checks something else.

Carlton chuckles again. “I put a brand new fire extinguisher in it and a new first aid kit. She’ll find no issues.”

Finally happy with all that she’s seen, she jumps back down and hands the mechanic his clipboard back. I breathe in, waiting to see some umbrage on his part, but apparently he’s used to his work being double-checked, and simply bumps her fist with his when she offers hers.

At last, the moment of truth is here. With a wave of her hand, Helo heaves herself back inside, waiting for Carlton to take his place in the co-pilot’s seat. She asks him some questions, presumably because it’s an alien-to-her craft, and then the engine catches. The rotors start spinning, slowly at first, then faster, making StoryTeller’s long hair fly.

Now it’s lifting. A good takeoff? Well, it looks like it to me, but how the fuck do I know?

I feel a moment of anguish on her part, remembering the last time she flew was when she’d been shot down. Has she gotten over that now? But it seems so as the helicopter rises, gaining height.

Claw cheers, Bull claps, and Iron slaps my shoulder as she rises higher. She swoops low and proceeds to fly away, gradually becoming a speck on the horizon. When thethwapthwapof the rotors can be heard again, I raise my eyes to the sky.

I don’t know what a test flight normally looks like, but are helicopters supposed to fly like that? It’s dipping, diving, flying at a ninety-degree angle before recovering itself. She puts the craft through manoeuvre after manoeuvre in front of oureyes. Around me I hear gasps, indrawn breaths, and a very reverential,fuck, that bitch can fly.Finally, it starts to lower in the sky, hovering above us, before smoothly coming to a rest in the very same spot from which she’d taken off.

Grinning broadly, I watch as the rotors slow and stop, and after a brief conversation, pilot and co-pilot get out. I half-expect Carlton to be holding his stomach and losing its contents on the grass, but no, his own grin is splitting his face.

He comes around to her, holds out his hands, and in the now quiet, I can hear every word.

“Thank you for the experience, Captain. You’ve got that nape of the earth flying down pat.”

“Sorry about that.” Helo laughs. “Force of habit. I’ll have to learn to stay higher.”

“Impressive as hell,” he compliments her, shaking his head, then gestures behind him. “I’ll go get the paperwork done now.”

As he passes me, he claps me on the shoulder. “She’s a fuckin’ Night Stalker all right.”

His comment hits me in the gut.

Have I done the right thing?We’d acquired the helicopter as a way to keep her, but it’sa poor substitute from the Black Hawk she used to fly. She’s got her licence to go with the freedom she got a year back. Will living with us really satisfy her now?

In front of my eyes, Helo morphs back into Queenie. Her seriousness dissipates as she smiles widely, gives a little squeal, then launches herself at me so fast I stumble as I catch her.

“Thank you!” she cries, then twists, so still in my arms she can take in the rest of the club. “Thank you all. I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“Sure you will,” Legit calls out. “I want a ride!”

“Babe,” I pull her attention back to me, then cup my hands either side of her face, unable to wait for the truth. “Is this enough? Am I enough?”

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, Chaz. It’s more than enough. I didn’t need this grand gesture to stay. I didn’t even know it’s what I wanted. But,” her voice fades, and I brace for what she’s going to say next. “Carlton asked me if I wanted to pilot some of the life flights or go on the search and rescue missions they fly from here. It’s quite an outfit he’s got.”

I’d noticed the other craft with the different insignia, but with all my focus on getting Queenie back into the air, I hadn’t thought much about it.

“You gonna take him up on that?”

Stupid question, but still she replies. “Chaz, when I met you I was broken. I couldn’t see a way out. I wasn’t a pilot. I wasn’t a woman. You’ve given me everything back. This? This isn’t what I need to complete me. That’s you. It’s always been you.”

There’s only one way I can respond to that. “I fuckin’ love you, Queenie.”

“I love you right back.”

“For fuck’s sake, enough of the sloppy shit. When are you going to take me up for a ride?” Skunks asks, with a deep yearning sigh.

I slap his head. “Enough of you asking my old lady for a ride.”