Warrior: Chapter 1

QUINCY

 

There was nothing better than the feel of the stick between my thighs. Okay, maybe there was a different kind of stick that felt pretty good in that location. And maybe only one specific stick I preferred at that.

I would never forget the glory of that one. Long and thick, I barely got my fingers around it. Steely hardness beneath heated velvet. And the guy it belonged to?

A mixture of sweet sin and ruthless danger to both my heart and body. 

To the enemy? They never knew the cause of their last breath.

But Chase Berghart, call sign Kennedy because he’sthe ladies’ man, wasn’t here.

His talented dick wasn’t about to sink into my eager pussy.

No, I had a different kind of thrill I was taking for a ride today.

“Returning to base. Heading zero-six-two.” The comms unit built into my helmet transmitted my message to the guys who were closely following my position.

The helicopter tipped to the right as I pulled on the cyclic control stick.

“Copy that. Everything looking good.”

I glanced at the radar on the display and confirmed because the weather was holding and so was the visibility. For now. Storms blew in with record speed in Montana, and some were expected.

“Watch your six.” It was a different voice than usual. Taft’s casual but focused response was replaced by another. One I was all too familiar with. One who had spoken in my ear before with that deep, dark tone.

Kennedy.

It made me wet then offered all kinds of carnal promises. They had definitely been fulfilled. That first time happened two years ago at the base in Qatar after a SEAL mission. Our adrenaline had been pumping and needed an outlet. We’d found it in each other. I’d known he was a man whore, but I hadn’t minded. We’d fucked. He’d fled. Sent on a mission I hadn’t been privy to.

We were working together again—this time not in the military—but with Alpha Mountain Security. There were no rules, no protocols or laws to stay within.

I glanced at my radar again. “I’m good.”

“Get back to base,” he practically growled.

I rolled my eyes. I’d flown helicopters my entire military career. There were very few women combat fighter jet pilots in the Navy. Starting out, my options had been limited in comparison to my brothers. I chose helicopters because they got me behind enemy lines. I helped my fellow soldiers, including the SEAL teams who needed to be extracted.

I was the best they had. Until I quit. Now I was Alpha Mountain’s best. And only in this small corner of the world. Which meant I was the person who was called on for anything involving a helicopter, including searches and rescues.

“Lay off, Kennedy,” I snapped. “I got this. The guys were dropped off and are on their way to the lost hikers. I’m a few miles off the targeted landing area. But no issues.”

“You’re not out of there yet.”

“I’m well aware of where I fucking am.” I wasn’t behind enemy lines. Or on an Alpha Mountain mission that, on paper, didn’t exist. That never happened.

“It’s not just you at risk this time,” he reminded.

Those words gave me pause and explained his crankiness. Yeah, it wasn’t just me that needed protection on this run. But I wouldn’t be grounded. Not yet and not by him.

And not for a simple Search and Rescue team shuttle.

“You need to–”

Alarms blared, and my dash blinked red.

I cut off my words and focused, not on Kennedy and his possessiveness, his anger at me being up in the air, even this close to base, and being coddled and protected like a child. I had bigger problems than a bossy ex-SEAL who gave me shit.

“Holy fuck. Incoming,” I said. I saw the flare of the missile in my periphery just as it appeared on radar. “Evasive maneuvers.”

“Christ. What the–”

“Two incoming.” Taft’s voice cut off Kennedy’s. Taft was thinking with his head and not his dick.

After a few recent bouts of angry, wild sex with Kennedy, he’d gone commando on my ass. Well, and one other reason.

I banked right. Hard. The ground, which was thickly forested rolling hills, got bigger.

“Who the hell is shooting at me and why?”

The first missile passed, and I banked again to avoid the second.

“What the fuck is going on?” Kennedy shouted.

“Some helo is firing at Quincy,” Taft countered.

I could hear chatter in the background, them bickering, and–

My thoughts ceased, and I focused solely on my training, on getting my ass out of this situation. I’d been shot at before, with soldiers who relied on me to get them home in one piece. No one was in the chopper now, but I still had precious cargo. Cargo I couldn’t allow to be harmed.

I heard Taft’s voice in my ear. Kennedy’s, too. I ignored them and just flew.

The second missile hit my left landing skid, the slight impact jarring the copter off course.

“I’ve been hit.” I checked the gauges, then pressed the button to shut off the alarm as I veered along the ridge of the hillside. I relayed the damage. Damage Ford wasn’t going to be happy about, not to his brand new helicopter. “Not sure about landing, but I’ve had worse.”

“Fucking-A, Quincy!”

“Shut it, Kennedy,” I snapped. “Get your ass off the fucking comms.”

“You’re my woman, and–”

“I’m not your woman,” I countered. “Taft, shut him down. I’m returning to base. I don’t need–”

The alarms blared again.

“Incoming. Someone sure as shit doesn’t like your ass,” Taft said.

This time, it wasn’t missiles, but another chopper. Of course the missiles came from a chopper. Where else would they be coming from around here?

I whipped my head to the left where the radar indicated another bird.

“Fuck.”

I dipped over the ridgeline to be sheltered by the rugged hillside, but the chopper followed.

“It’s a Bell. Friendly.” The whiz of bullets–and the missiles–had me changing my mind and direction. “Shit, not friendly.”

I used every bit of my knowledge to evade the chopper, but I couldn’t outfly it. More bullets came at me in a long barrage.

“Quincy! Get the fuck out of there!” Kennedy shouted. He was still listening in. So probably were all the others back at the command center. This was me on a simple run, shuttling the Search and Rescue guys. Nothing more. Now it was like I was back in the Middle East.

I was fucked. I was a few miles from Alpha Mountain and my helipad. There was no way I could avoid this guy for that long, or long enough for him to run out of bullets.

“They want to shoot me down.” Duh.

“Get back to base!” Taft called.

“I’ll bring them right to you.”

“Oh shit,” Kennedy said, understanding what I was putting down.

I had weapons of my own thanks to Ford’s obsessive need for being prepared. The only way to save myself was to turn on the offensive. I banked left, hard, but that opened my side up to attack. I changed elevation, aiming for the clouds, then banked to the right, bringing the other chopper into my sights.

He knew what I was doing. He was an experienced pilot whose mission was to end me.

“Take this, you fucker,” I muttered. Sweat glistened my skin as I pressed the fire button. I watched as bullets shot from the fixed mounted minigun. Yeah, Ford had bought an armored, armed tank of a helicopter for Sparks, Montana, and it sure as shit was coming in handy right now.

He banked. Aimed. Fired.

This time, I had nowhere to go, no chance to evade. I only angled my chopper, so it protected me. But the bullets tore through the tail boom.

I lost control of the steering. Then everything else. “Fuck. Come on…. Come onnnnnnnn.”

“Get an extraction team on the horn,” Kennedy yelled.

“Extraction team? Quincy is that team.”

“Give me something,” Kennedy snapped back.

“Coordinates are–” Taft stated.

Kennedy and Taft were talking in my ear, but I was tugging on the stick, using the pedals to try and level, to try to keep from going into a tailspin. The ground rushed up fast. Too fast, even as I tilted the rotors forward to get as much lift as I could.

“Mayday. Mayday,” I called, but Taft already knew the deal. I might be close to home but not close enough.

“Stay alive, Quincy. Stay fucking alive.” Kennedy’s frantic voice was the last I heard before the crash.