"Just like your daughter used to worry about you when you went on missions." Even though her father had been gone a lot, and Marley had worried endlessly in his absence, the colonel had always come back home safe and sound and usually with some type of souvenir.
"Fair enough. Have any idea when you'll be stateside?"
"Ten days. I have a two-day turnaround here, a few more small flights when I get back to base, and then we'll fly out to the States."
"All right." Her father's voice changed from soft and loving to pinpoint precise. "Do your double-check. Make sure you go back over the weather and the best alternate routes in your flight path. Don't know where you are, but anything unaccounted for . . . "
"Is another opportunity for risk," Marley finished for him.
"That's my girl. See you in ten days."
"I love you, Dad. Say hi to Mom when she gets home from her meeting."
The lieutenant colonel cleared his throat, and there was a gravelly edge to his voice when he said, "Will do. I love you, too."
Marley disconnected the call and shoved her phone in the Velcro side pocket on her leg. Her copilot had given her the new military issued sat phone a few hours ago after her old cell had been accidentally crushed under a heavy crate of supplies.
She rolled her shoulders back, and tilted her head from side to side, shrugging off the role of mommy and easing back into the familiar comfort of pilot.
Her parents would keep Maddie safe and sound and absolutely happy while she was gone, leaving Marley with nothing to worry about other than the task at hand, which was transporting a team of special operatives on a HALO jump. One of the scariest missions as far as Marley was concerned. Give her a C-130 any day of the week, she'd take that puppy up in the air and even land her in a combat zone, but jumping out of one with nothing more than a piece of material strapped on her back . . . ? That required a special kind of crazy.
She walked carefully around her airplane, methodically checking for any signs of disrepair. The loadmaster gave her a quick thumbs-up as she circled around the back of the plane and she waved in response, continuing on her journey until she reached the wide metal staircase leading up into the plane.
Marley put a hand on the railing-and then instantly yanked her burning palm back. Rookie mistake. She knew better than to touch metal barehanded in this kind of heat. If she didn't get her head in the game, her life wouldn't be the only one she was endangering.
Careful to avoid the scorching handle, she quickly jogged up the steps, closing her eyes in the welcome coolness inside the airplane. At least it offered cover from the sun's brutal rays.
"Almost done with the preflight check," her copilot, Thomas Ramsey, called out with a sarcastic tone to his voice that she could easily interpret: Hey, you're slacking off and leaving me to do all the work.
"Be there in a minute." She wouldn't offer Ramsey any excuses; she'd done his check more than once. Besides, getting those last few minutes of quiet time to talk to her daughter before takeoff was well worth any ire she might incur from her copilot.
She'd do a quick brief with the operators, and check with the loadmaster once more before they dismissed. The light, high-speed mission called for only a skeleton crew. Normally they'd have two loadmasters and a navigator along with the pilot and copilot, but due to the highly classified intelligence on this mission, it was just going to be Marley and Ramsey handling the plane.
She descended the three steps down into the cargo hold and pulled up short a few feet behind a tall broad-shouldered man with dark salt-and-pepper hair. His black tactical shirt could do nothing to disguise the way his waist tapered into a narrow V, and when he shifted, power practically emanated from the rippling muscles outlined across his back.
Marley's mouth went dry.
She hadn't noticed a man's shoulders since her husband, and he'd been dead nearly seven years.
The buzz of conversation around the room faded as the men became acutely aware of her presence. Suddenly, briefing this team didn't seem like such a good idea. Intimidation was practically sparking off their shoulders and zipping around the cockpit.
And just like in junior high after her first outbreak of pimples and period, Marley was abruptly cast into the role of the outsider. Like everyone was staring at every single flaw on her entire body. The nine pairs of nearly expressionless eyes that whipped her way seemed to confirm her impression that every minute detail of her person was being scrutinized by every person in the room.