Once the plane touched down, Jones grabbed one of his bags and headed for the front hatch. “How long do we have to kill?”
Payne shrugged, trailing his partner. “A few hours. They’re making final arrangements.”
The duo stepped into the warm night and glanced around the semideserted airfield. Bright lights shone in the distance, highlighting the periphery of the fence line. A tropical wind blew across the tarmac, kicking up the scent of jet fuel and burned tire. It was a smell they remembered well. Not quite as sexy as napalm in the morning, but memorable nonetheless.
A young woman with Asian features and dark hair stood at the bottom of the plane stairs. She wore a khaki skirt and an open-collared white blouse that danced around her petite frame in the gentle breeze. It was the middle of the night, yet she had a smile on her face and a gleam in her eyes that said she was honored to be there. “Welcome to the Marshall Islands.”
To Jones, this was a pleasant surprise. He wasn’t expecting a welcoming committee.
“Aloha!” he said as he kissed her on both cheeks, a common greeting in Hawaiian airports. “Or however you say hello in Marshallese.”
The woman’s cheeks flushed, an equal mixture of anger and embarrassment. The smile that was present a moment before was replaced with an angry growl. This was not the delicate lotus blossom that Jones had first perceived. She was a typhoon to be reckoned with.
“Why in the world did you kiss me?” she demanded while poking Jones in the chest. “Just because I have an island complexion you automatically assume I’m some kind of air tramp ready to give you a lei. Do you see any flowers in my hand? Do you hear any Don Ho music?”
“Ah, crap,” Payne mumbled, trying not to laugh.
“You’re in the middle of a U.S. Army base, not on some island tour. What is wrong with you?” It was a rhetorical question. “While you’re in my presence, I expect to be treated with the respect I deserve or else we will stop dealing with each other and I will file sanctions with the base commander. Have I made myself clear?”
Jones nodded, completely mortified. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m a soldier, not a tart.”
“Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to imply ...” He stopped in the middle of his sentence. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was completely out of line.”
She glared at him for a moment longer before nodding her head. “Fine. Apology accepted.”
Without delay, she brushed past Jones and stopped in front of Payne, giving him a quick salute. “Captain Payne, it is an honor to work with you. I know you weren’t used to working with women in the Special Forces, but I swear I’ll be of great assistance to you.”
A look of confusion filled Payne’s face. “In what way?”
“Wait,” she said. “You mean, you don’t know? I’ll be joining you on your mission.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll be joining—”
Payne signaled her to stop. “Yeah, I heard you the first time.”
Puzzled by the news, Payne glanced at Jones, who gave him a shrug from a very safe distance. No way he was going to reenter mis conversation. Besides, it was obvious he had no idea who she was either, or he wouldn’t have kissed her. At this point the only thing Jones knew was that she was a soldier, not a tart. And since Payne already possessed that intel, Jones did the smart thing and retreated to the safety of the hangar.
Payne growled to himself. “What did you say your name was?”
“Choi. Sergeant Kia Choi. U.S. Army.”
“And who assigned you to my team?”
“Colonel Harrington, sir.”
“Really? In what capacity?”
“Full capacity, sir.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. What’s your skill set? Your specialty?”
“Oh,” she said, embarrassed. “It’s linguistics. I’ll be serving as your translator.”
“My translator? Damn, Sergeant, why didn’t you say so?” He handed her one of his bags, letting her know that she was going to be treated like any other member of his squad. “I hope to hell you know a lot of swear words, because we cuss a lot.”
“Don’t worry, sir. I know them all.”
Payne dumped his gear inside the hangar, then followed Kia to an army jeep that had been built for World War II.
No key was required. Just a touch of the ignition button and the engine roared to life. “I hope our plane is newer than this.”
Kia laughed, a smile once again brightening her face. “Don’t worry, sir. RTS is equipped with the best technology in the world. We keep relics like this for personal use only. Most of the major roads on Kwajalein are paved, but when you hit the smaller atolls, you’re forced to deal with coral-lined tracks. And jeeps tend to thrive in that terrain.”