Operation: Forbidden. Lindsay McKenna

be out of my squadron for six months. You’ll be part of a team working on a unique Afghan project known as Operation Book Worm.”

      Emma almost laughed and struggled to keep a straight face. “Operation Book Worm? Ma’am?” Dallas appeared completely serious, not a hint of a smile or joking demeanor. And God knew, members of the Black Jaguar Squadron played tricks on each other all the time. Black humor was alive and well in this combat squadron. It kept them all sane. Laughter instead of tears.

      “This is not a joke, Captain Cantrell, so wipe that smirk off your face.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” What the hell was Operation Book Worm?

      “Okay, here’s the guts of the mission. You’re being assigned to Captain Khalid Shaheen. He’s the only Afghan currently allowed to fly the Apache combat helicopter. He’s been flying with another Apache squadron in the Helmand province of southern Afghanistan until this operation went active.”

      Emma’s brow bunched. “An Afghan flying one of our Apaches?” She’d never heard of such a thing. And she was being assigned to this dude?

      Dallas held up her hand. “Just sit and listen. I don’t want you interrupting me, Captain.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Captain Shaheen is a thirty-year-old Afghan. He’s responsible for creating Operation Book Worm.”

      Emma nodded and said nothing. How was this mission going to help her career?

      “Captain Shaheen comes from one of the richest families in Afghanistan. He is a Princeton graduate and has a master’s degree in electrical engineering. He graduated with honors. The army persuaded him to spend six years with them and he proved ideal flying Apache helicopters. The Pentagon is relying on Captain Shaheen to persuade other Afghan military men to come to the United States to be trained at Fort Rucker, Alabama. Once they’ve earned their wings in Apaches, they will come back to Afghanistan to start fighting and defending their own country.”

      “Afghanistan does not have an air force.”

      “No, but Shaheen is the bedrock for starting one.”

      Emma considered the pilot with new respect. “That’s a tall order.”

      “New ideas start with one person,” Dallas said.

      “And what is my activity with him?”

      “There’s more. His sister, Kinah Shaheen, was also educated at Princeton. She’s twenty-eight years old and holds a Ph.D. in education. She has made it her mission in this country to provide education to young girls. As you know, under Taliban rule, girls weren’t allowed any type of education. Kinah is armed not only with a hell of an education, but her family’s money and a fierce determination to get girls back into school.”

      “Wow,” Emma said, “that’s an even taller order. I’ve been here long enough to see how women are suppressed when it comes to education. In the past, the Taliban killed teachers and tribal elders or chieftains of villages who allowed girls to be schooled.”

      “I know,” Dallas said, grimness in her tone. “Kinah and her brother, Khalid, came up with the idea for Operation Book Worm. Khalid is considered a used-car salesman of sorts.” She grinned a little.

      “You’ve met him?” Emma was now completely taken by the Afghan brother and sister and their plans.

      “Once,” Dallas said dryly. “And I can see why Khalid has been able to talk corporations in the United States into donating millions of dollars for this idea. Kinah is no small-time operator, either. Their father is a Persian rug salesman, so talking people out of money is in their DNA.”

      “But their idea sounds more than saleable,” Emma said, excited.

      “It has been.” Dallas leaned back in her chair. “Between them, they’ve got ten million dollars to throw at this operation.”

      “Wow …”

      “Yeah, double wow,” Dallas agreed. “You’ll come into this by virtue of the fact that Khalid is going to use, with the U.S. Army’s permission, a CH-47 transport from Camp Bravo. He’s qualified in four types of helicopters, by the way. And that’s no small feat, either.”

      Eyes widening, Emma considered that skill. “He must be …”

      “He’s a genius,” Dallas said. “Brilliant, mad and passionate, not to mention a damned fine combat helicopter pilot.”

      Emma took a deep breath. “He sounds like a Renaissance man. Many skills and talents.”

      “Oh, Khalid is all of that,” Dallas said.

      “Why does he need me?”

      “He wants to land in each targeted village not only to deliver books, supplies and food, but to show you as an example of what a woman can do. Khalid wants the girls of the village to see a woman who flies that helicopter. He feels that show-and-tell is a quick way to get the girls to dream big and often.”

      “That’s a great strategy,” Emma said, understanding the Afghan’s brilliant concept. “So, I’m his copilot?”

      “You’re both aircraft commanders—ACs. You’re the same rank. You have three years less time in the Apache than he does, but he wants you in the driver’s seat off and on.”

      “In other words, he has a live-and-let-live policy about swapping out AC status?”

      “Yep. You’ll find Khalid one of the most fascinating men you’ve ever met. He’ll keep you on your toes. He wanted a woman Apache pilot who spoke Pashto because he wants that woman to be able to speak to the little girls. He wants you to become a saleswoman to encourage their education. And don’t be surprised if he has you do impromptu speeches on why little girls should want an education. Khalid wants to fire their imaginations. He wants to shock them from the realm of dreams to that of possibilities.”

      “I’ll be happy to take on this mission, ma’am,” Emma said.

      “For the next six months, from spring through fall, you’ll work with him. He plans on having fifty schools set up along the border villages by the time snow flies.”

      “But,” Emma said, holding up her hand, “haven’t you left out one thing? You know all the border villages are wide open to attack from the Taliban? Those villagers live in fear of them. And how does Khalid protect all these villages? Once the Taliban hears of schools for girls, you know they’ll attack and kill the teachers.”

      Dallas nodded grimly. “He’s very well aware of the situation, and the U.S. Army is coordinating with him to protect these villages. They’ll be moving more Special Forces A-teams into the villages. And air force drones will be utilized as flyovers on a nightly basis by our CIA guys stationed here when the Taliban is active. This could be a queen-maker for you, Captain Cantrell.”

      Emma considered the assignment carefully. If she could successfully work with Captain Shaheen and his sister, her personnel jacket would contain glowing commendations from them. Enough to bury the censure over her decision last year. And then her family, who had a nearly unbroken ribbon of service to America, would no longer have this blight on its reputation. As she sat there contemplating all of this, Emma then wondered: could she get along with this Afghan? He was filthy rich. Princeton-educated. Would he look down on her? Not appreciate what she brought to the table with her own intelligence and creativity? Suddenly, Emma felt unsure.

      Dallas signed the orders and handed them across the desk to her. “Here you go, Captain Cantrell. Do us proud.” She hesitated for a moment and added, “Be warned: He’s a marked man. The Taliban has a huge reward out for his death. This is going to be no picnic for you. Captain Shaheen is landing in—” and she looked at her watch “—fifteen minutes. Be on the tarmac to meet him. Dismissed.”

      The sun was bright and Emma put on her dark aviator glasses. The breeze was inconstant across the concrete revetment