A Promise In The Cold

A Promise In The Cold

The wind is cold, quite a difference from the normally blisteringly hot sands that have stung my face for months. I shiver in my thin t-shirt and uniform, scanning the darkening horizon for ‘enemy activity.’

I’m tired. My bones ache. I need to sneeze, but can’t and my eyes water from the dust and chill in the air.

Freezing my ass off in the desert. Personally, I can’t think of a better way to spend 12 or 15 months. Yeah, right. Whatever.

I shift a bit, sand now blowing down the back of my neck. I guess being covered in cold sand is a nice change of pace from being coated in hot sand, but I’m no judge on the matter.

I hear footsteps behind me, or, more accurately, I should say I hear something behind me. The sand makes it damn near impossible to tell if a shuffling sound is the footsteps of your buddy or the person about to kill you. I glance over my shoulder without really moving my body and let out a puff of a sigh in relief. It’s only Chief, looking as cold as I feel but not half as miserable since he actually got to fly today. Hell, if I’d been up today, I’d be a bit cheerier myself, I imagine.

“How’s it goin’,” he asks, words slower and more measured than usual.

“Alright,” is the best I can come up with. No sense in complaining or stating the obvious-it’s cold, it’s dusty. You’d have to be a frickin’ idiot to not realize it.

“Not much goin’ on, huh?”

“No,” I sigh, tugging at the wrist of my left glove with my teeth, pulling the band down far enough to see the time. Damn, we’ve got awhile.

He moves once more, shifting closer to me and leaning up against the slight windbreak I have managed to create with discarded odds and ends no one else wanted.

“How’d it go?” At his blank look, I continue.

“Earlier today. How’d it go?”

Light slowly dawns in his eye before fading. He’s quiet for a long moment and I wait, seeing nothing but the shifting sand of the horizon, hearing nothing but the sharp little grains smacking against my skin and weapon.

“Wasn’t the best. Coulda been a helluva lot worse, though.”

From that short synopsis, I learn more about what really went down out there than anyone reading the mission log ever will.

“Next time,” I say without conviction, “you’ll get ‘em next time.”

He says nothing, but joins me in staring into the distance.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“Whatever,” I echo back, not sure of what to say.

I think I spot something moving in the distance and raise my binoculars to take a look. They do no good and the shape is gone before I can get a fix on it.

“I’m going. Next time, that is.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he looks at me.

I cock an eyebrow and stifle a yawn.

“Crew chief wasn’t doin’ their job today if you missed them. Next time, I’m goin', show y’all how it’s done,” I say with a hint of a smile but I know he catches my humor and returns fire.

“You? What do I need with a barely trained crew chief who’d rather pull security than pull some G’s?” he asks, stretching his leg out to tap his boot lightly, playfully against mine.

“Whatever,” I say again, knocking sand from where it’s started to collect between my forehead and goggles, “but the next time you go up, my ass better be on that bird. So come find me, alright?”

He laughs this time, a genuine laugh I haven’t heard in ages.

“Alright, alright, don’t get in a fuss over it.”

I know he’s amused. We can joke and banter back and forth, but rarely do I push my point so directly, so forcefully.

“As long as we understand each other then.”

“Whatever,” he grins.

“You know if they’re goin’ up again today?”

He looks up at the rapidly darkening sky and at the swirling clouds of dust before turning back to me.

“Uh-uh. Not a chance. Besides, didn’t I just promise you you’d be on my crew next time? Don’t say you’re wanting to leave me for another pilot, I don’t think my pride could take it.”

If it wasn’t so damn cold and if I wasn’t supposed to be focused on what's in front of me, I’d have smacked him, rank be damned. Instead, I plaster on a sweet smile and tilt my head.

“Come on now, you know there’s no one else but you and there never will be. You have nothing to worry about.”

I want to continue but the amused look on his face pushes me dangerously close to cracking up myself. Sometimes, actually, scratch that, most of the time, I’m damn glad there’s no one around from higher to hear our more interesting conversations, innocent as they may be.

“Good. One less thing to worry about.”

I do lose it this time, and start laughing like crazy, and, from what I can see, Chief is doing the same.

“Glad to put your mind at ease, “ I gasp out, the stress of the last few months finally catching up to both of us and finding it’s release in the middle of the desert in the middle of a sandstorm.

I feel a hand gently grasp my shoulder and look to my right.

“We make a good pair, you and I; We make a good pair,” Chief says softly, a smile still on his face.