Morgan's Mercenaries: Heart of Stone. Lindsay McKenna

banked sharply to the left. The other two rockets flew harmlessly past it.

      Good. Maya sucked air between her teeth as she pushed the diving Apache to the left now, to follow the fleeing Kamov. In her headset, she could hear Dallas and her copilot talking excitedly back and forth to one another as they engaged the other Kamov. It sounded like they had everything under control.

      “We’re going after this son of a bitch,” Maya muttered to Jess. “Hang on.”

      The Kamov pilot knew it. In a split second, the gunship suddenly moved skyward in an awesome display of power and agility. It was trying to do an inside loop over Maya’s Apache so that it would come down behind her “six” or the rear of her machine and put a rocket into her. The Kamov turned a bloodred color as it arced high into the dawn sky, the twin blades a blur as it rose swiftly and then turned over. Maya knew that few helicopter pilots in the world could accomplish an inside loop. But she was one of them. Gripping the controls, she pushed the power on the Apache to the redline. The engines howled. The machine shuddered like a frothing monster, chasing after its quarry. It shot up well above where the Kamov was making its own maneuver. With a deft twist of her hands and feet, Maya brought the Apache into a tight inside loop. All the while she kept her eyes pinned on the Kamov below her.

      Within seconds, the Apache was shrieking into a somersault, the pressure pounding against her body. Breathing hard, Maya felt the sweat coursing down the sides of her face beneath her helmet. The Apache was handling well, the gravity rising as she kept the loop tight.

      “I’m going to make that bastard’s day,” she said through gritted teeth. Snapping the Apache out of the loop, she ended up behind the Kamov.

      “Jess?” It wasn’t truly a question; it was an order. Her copilot knew what to do: arm a missile and fire at the Kamov.

      “I’m on it. Firing one, two…”

      Eyes gleaming, Maya watched as rockets on either side of the Apache lit up and sped off toward the Kamov, which was now diving for the cloud cover. They were wild shots, but Maya wanted to let the pilot know that she’d pursue him. It was a ruse, of course, because her first duty was to the three unarmed helicopters.

      The Kamov dove into the clouds and raced away. The rockets missed their intended target because of the Kamov’s rapid response.

      “I think he’s gone,” Jess said, studying the radar.

      Maya blew out a breath of air. Looking above her, she rapidly climbed to gain altitude.

      “Black Jaguar Two. What’s your status? Over.”

      Dallas came on moments later, her voice tight. “Black Jaguar One, we just routed the second Kamov. He’s heading back north. And you? Over.”

      “Same here. Let’s catch up with our unarmed children. Over.”

      Dallas’s laugh was tense and explosive. “Yeah, roger that, One. Out.”

      Turning the Apache back toward base, Maya didn’t for a moment think that the game with the Kamovs was over, but she kept a sharp lookout as they flew homewards. Adrenaline was making her feel shaky now. It was a common reaction after combat. Wiping her face, Maya saw that the bloodred ribbon along the horizon had turned a deep pink color. Now it looked more beautiful than deadly.

      “You think our boys peed their pants yet, Captain?”

      Maya chuckled over Jess’s comment. “Well, if they haven’t, they probably thought about it.”

      “Helluva welcome to the killing fields,” Dallas intoned.

      “Yeah, well, it will put them on warning that this is a hot area and they can expect this anytime, day or night.”

      “Probably killed York to have to run. You know how aggressive he is in the air,” Dallas said.

      Maya laughed fully. “He probably feels like a coward about now. And gee, he had to leave it to four women to protect his behind. That is probably eating at him more than anything.”

      Jess giggled. “Can you imagine his horror that he’s still alive and flying and that we didn’t drop the ball?”

      “Yeah, what’s he gonna do,” Dallas said, “when he has to stare us in the face and admit we saved his bacon?”

      The laughter felt good to Maya. She knew the let-down after a tense combat situation was necessary. Fortunately, they could talk on a private channel between the two Apaches, so that no one else could pick up their banter. She was sure York would have a hemorrhage if he’d heard them just now. No, it was going to be fun to watch the good ole boys from Fort Rucker get a look-see at the Eye of the Needle. It was going to be even more enjoyable to watch them sweat their way through it for the first time. That made any pilot, no matter how experienced, tense up big time.

      “Well, ladies, let’s go home and see these guys pucker up.”

      The laughter was raucous.

      Chapter 4

      Dane York was nervous as he stood aside, watching the all-women crews hurriedly move the three new helicopters into the maw of the huge cave. His heart was still pounding in his chest from barely squeaking through that damned entrance they called the Eye. His other pilots and crew members stood off to one side on the rough rock surface of the lip of the cave, out of the way, tense looks on their faces. Only one person had welcomed them, a woman with short red hair who introduced herself as Chief Warrant Officer Lynn Crown before hurriedly running off to direct the crews as to the placement of the new gunships.

      As the clouds around the high lava wall thinned, Dane gazed at the Eye. He heard the approaching Apaches on the other side of it. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he settled his garrison cap on his head and waited. As the morning sun burned off some of the thicker clouds he could see the entrance better. Shaking his head, Dane realized just how tight that aperture really was. How many times a day did Maya fly her Apaches in and out of that thing? What a helluva “needle” to try and thread. Dane wondered how anyone, man or woman, could muster enough brain power and concentration after an exhausting mission to slip through it without nicking the blades of their Apache on the unforgiving lava walls. His admiration for Maya’s pilots rose.

      Joe and Craig moved to his side. They all watched as another woman, dressed in an olive-green T-shirt and fatigues, trotted out with red-orange flare sticks in her hands and stood at attention opposite the Eye. One of the Apaches was coming through. The crewmember raised her hands above her head to direct the helicopter into a landing spot once it flew through the opening. Dane’s eyes narrowed as he watched. Though he and his men had crawled through, literally, this first Apache came through like the pilot was on a Sunday drive!

      “I’ll be go-to-hell,” Joe gasped in amazement. “That’s some purty flying. Will ya look at that? Whoever the pilot is, she just flew through that opening like it wasn’t there!”

      “No kidding,” Craig muttered, scowling.

      Dane said nothing, his mouth flattening. The first Apache landed opposite where they stood, on the other side of the massive lava lip. Bruising waves of air buffeted them, kicked up by the rotor blast as the gunship landed. The lip was at least four hundred feet wide and about one-quarter of a mile long, from his estimates. The maw of the gigantic cave was simply mindboggling. Inside the shadowy space, crews were running at full tilt as they positioned the three new helicopters in the maintenance area.

      The second Apache flew through smoothly in turn, as if the Eye weren’t there, either. It landed so close to the first one that Dane held his breath momentarily. The punctuation of the rotors pounded the entire area; the wall across the cave opening acted like an echo chamber of huge proportions, until his eardrums hurt from the reverberations. Wind kicked up by the rotor blades slammed like a boxer’s gloves against his body. Still, as Dane watched the two crews hurry toward the Apaches that had just landed, he was critical of everything.

      He didn’t think Maya Stevenson could run a squadron. However, from the way the crews