Chapter 6

Friday, 3 June, 0230 local
Wendover AFB’s “Hole in the Ground” Grill

McGriffin sat munching an Army Air Force Exchange Service grease burger: easy on the meat and heavy on the grease. Actually, the sandwich had a lot going for it He’d first had the ubiquitous AAFES grease burger as an undergraduate pilot training student at Laughlin AFB, Texas. Every BX grill in the world boasted of it

After stumbling in from a flight at zero dark early, it was usually the only thing he could find at the AAFES eatery. Heavy on the mayo, double pickles, and it would fill you right up. That and a cherry Coke.

The hamburger hit the spot. It was like taking an old friend around with him. All he needed to do now was to find a plane to fly.

An aero club was just around the corner — his private pilot’s license was still good, but he’d have to wait until they were open. Likewise, there had to be something to get him introduced to the local social scene — a dance group, a hiking club or even a church fellowship. Things were looking up.

“Good morning, Major.” Chief Zolley pulled out a chair at the next table.

McGriffin waved him over. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks.” Zolley plopped down across from McGriffin. He glanced at McGriffin’s grease burger and shuddered.

Pushing back his plate, McGriffin leaned back against his chair. “If every night’s like tonight, I’m going to have to find something to keep me from going crazy.”

“It gets worse. At least tonight we had that killer rabbit attack for excitement.”

“Great. I can see it now: three years of boredom punctuated with five minutes of terror.”

Chief Zolley chewed on his sandwich before speaking. “Major, if I were you, I’d learn everything I could about our tenant units.”

“Tenant units?”

“Yes, sir. All we do is keep house. You know, supply the security guards, hospital, civil engineers, golf course — that sort of thing. Since you command the CP, you’ll come into contact with them one of these days. Besides, you might see something interesting.”

McGriffin laughed in the middle of taking another bite. Choking, he brought up his napkin as he coughed. “I tried to stay as far away from those places as I could.” He shook his head. “I’m lucky to have been able to fly as long as I did without doing anything else. This nonrated nonsense is all new to me.”

“Really, sir, give it a chance. You ought to at least take a trip out to Alpha Base. Wendover wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them.”

“We’ll see.” He dove back into his grease burger.

When Chief Zolley and McGriffin departed the AAFES snack bar, Zolley threw McGriffin a salute. “Good luck, sir.”

“Are you sure Alpha Base won’t mind me snooping around?”

“Not at all. Once they know you’re from the command post, they’ll let you in with open arms. After all, they might need a favor someday.”

“Thanks, Chief. I’ll see you at 1800—I’ve got to get my body adjusted to this new schedule.”

Saturday, 4 June, 2135 local
Wendover, Nevada

The apartment complex sat in a dark neighborhood two streets from Main Street. Vikki Osborrn entered the door with her arm wrapped around Britnell’s waist. His youthful body felt firm. She grasped him tightly, uneasy about the place they entered.

She left her purse and sweater in the car. A bare bulb burned at the top of the stairs. As they negotiated the wooden stairway, the boards creaked, adding to the music leaking from the door at the top. A shrill cry of laughter pierced the air. Vikki made out the music as an old punk classic. She drew in a breath as Britnell opened the door.

The crowd barely noticed them, as if they were regulars.

Sleep with a comrade and you’re one of the crowd, she thought.

Britnell patted her fanny and squeezed his way to the drinks. Eight air force security policemen filled up the kitchen, popping beer, laughing. Most of the men had women standing next to them. The women listened, not talking, and smiled at the men’s words.

Vikki sipped lightly at the glass of white wine Britnell thrust to her. She brushed back her hair. “I want to look around. Be right back.”

The women around her reeked of youth — eighteen-year-old girlfriends of immaculately sculptured airmen. The music blared. It was so loud she couldn’t hear much more than garbled words over the monotone beats. One of the women—girls! — swayed slowly back and forth to the music, her eyes glazed over. Vikki gave a silent praise of thanks that the girls weren’t popping gum.

One of the women approached her. Her smile was friendly enough, but yet as the girl looked her over, Vikki saw her eye linger on her face, no doubt taking in the telltale marks of age. The girl smiled warmly.

“I don’t believe I’ve met you. I’m Daria.”

Vikki extended a hand. “Vikki. Glad to meet you.”

Daria sipped coyly on her wine. “I haven’t seen you around. George has done well. Are you playing the Pit, or is he your first?”

Vikki looked puzzled. “Playing the pit?”

Daria glanced around at the faces of the other women who gathered around. She looked shocked. “Why surely you know that George works in the Pit?”

“Sure. What about it?”

Silence.

From the kitchen laughter split the solemn moment for an instant. Daria regained her composure and took another sip of wine. “You really don’t know, do you?” Vikki just stared back at her. Daria put her drink down and grasped Vikki by the arm. “This is just so unusual, I’m really going to have to introduce you around.”

She steered Vikki back past the kitchen and into a cramped living room. Music pulsated from two speakers at opposite ends of the room. Wire ran up the walls from the amplifier to each of the speakers. Daria raised her voice over the music.

“Hey, everybody — we’ve got a virgin!” Vikki rolled her eyes as Daria clicked off the amplifier. She stood unsteadily in the center of the room. “George’s date is a virgin.”

“Welcome to the club, sister. Put your name in the hat and grab a date.”

“Sit down, Daria. You’ve had too much to drink.”

Daria lifted her glass in a mock toast. “Well, George’s date is free game, and I don’t want anyone to spoil it for her.”

A catcall accompanied Daria’s reply. Daria stuck out her tongue at the group and paced back to Vikki. She looped her arm over Vikki’s. Someone flicked back on the stereo.

Vikki shook her off. “What was that all about?” she demanded.

Daria laughed. “You, my dear, are an endangered species.”

Vikki lowered her voice. “You are going to be endangered if you don’t explain. What is going on?”

Daria sobered up at Vikki’s tone. “The guys who work in the Pit — Alpha Base, to the uninitiated — are the top security policemen in the air force. They’ve been specially selected to work there. It’s an honor assignment for them. Their air force career is in the bag, and they’ll be getting choice jobs, assignments and promotions from here on out.” She sipped unsteadily at her wine. “What I’m getting at is, if you can hook one of them, you’re going places — you’ve got it made. And since you’ve never dated one of them before, you’re a special commodity.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“For one thing, you’re not a secondhand gal, jumping from one bed to the next. The guys tend to look up to you for that.”

Vikki studied Daria. She wasn’t drunk, but from the edge in her voice, Vikki could tell that she hit a nerve. Maybe it explained the tenseness in the room when she was around, Vikki thought. She decided to take a chance. She said coyly, “Not like you, I take it.”

“That’s right. Not like me.” Daria quickly drained the rest of her wine. She giggled and toyed with the glass. “I must have dated every guy in the Pit, and slept with half of them.” She motioned with her head to the women in the room. “Most of these girls are in the same boat — they didn’t stay with their original guy. After all, take a look.” She swept an unsteady hand toward the kitchen. “Where else can you find so many studs in one place? But watch out. Once you make the mistake of going for someone else, you’re passed around Alpha Base like a piece of meat.”

Vikki felt a pang of sorrow for her. She tried to squash the feeling, embarrassed at her empathy. “Surely everyone’s not in the same situation.”

Daria’s voice was bitter. “Why do you think we’re not mixing with the women in the kitchen? Or in the other room? The ‘truly faithful’ are clinging to their men. Like you should be, dear.”

Vikki made up her mind. If she was going to pull this off, she couldn’t afford to be seen mingling with Daria’s crowd. It wouldn’t do to have George Britnell’s suspicion’s raised.

Vikki smiled sweetly and handed her drink to Daria. “Thanks for the advice, dear.”

Daria blinked. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

Vikki stopped before leaving, her curiosity getting the best of her. “By the way, if you’ve been passed around Alpha Base, then why are you staying? Why don’t you find another crowd?”

Daria looked shocked. “And miss a chance to nail one of these guys? You’ll find out. Once you’ve tasted steak, it’s hard to get excited about hamburger.”

Vikki just smiled and headed for the kitchen. Spotting Britnell, she moved next to him and slipped an arm around his waist. He patted her hand and didn’t even look up.

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