1 Chapter 1: A New Challenge

The harried sergeant was so busy shuffling papers that he didn't notice that a woman in uniform approached and dropped a folder on his desk. He raised his head and looked at her. She was gorgeous.

Sarge knew that a new officer was to join the unit, but the person in front of him didn't look like what he expected.

"You are Major Turner? Major Morgan Turner?" The sergeant said sheepishly.

It was the same question Tess had heard throughout her career in the United States Army. Reconciling her name with her appearance left most people — especially men — baffled. Morgan Theresa Turner, otherwise known as Tess by her friends, was an Army brat. There had never been a girl born into her family since the Civil War, and it was a foregone conclusion that the firstborn would always be called Morgan. When the little bundle of joy arrived, her father decided to keep the tradition going, and bestowed the masculine name on the adorable little girl.

Well, the time for such trivia was long over. She was reporting for duty at the airbase in Kuwait to participate in the invasion of Iraq—the second Gulf War.

"Yes, Sergeant. I assure you that I am Major Morgan Turner. My orders are correct and if you look at them, you will see that I am assigned to this unit. I need to see Colonel Reynolds. I am reporting for duty."

The sergeant fumbled with the paperwork and excused himself. He tapped on the CO's office door and entered without waiting for an invitation. "Sir, Major Turner is reporting for duty."

"Ah, yes! Let her in," said the Colonel."

The sergeant shuffled outside, conscious of his awkwardness, and invited Tess to enter the boss' lair. Tess stepped in and smartly saluted the superior officer. Reynolds returned a perfunctory acknowledgment and smiled warmly.

"Tess, my, you have grown up!"

"I should hope so, Sir," she answered. "Last time you saw me I was in high school!" The Colonel came around the desk and grabbed a chair.

"Please, sit down, Tess. How is your dad?"

"Still raising hell and playing golf," Tess answered. "When I left him three days ago, he was bitterly complaining that timing has robbed him of a chance to get in on the action over here."

The Colonel leaned against the desk and laughed. "I told him that retiring was not such a good idea, even for the megabucks that NTC is paying him. What we have going here is far more interesting!"

Colonel Reynolds and Morgan Turner, Tess's father, had been best friends for many years. They had grown together in the military until General Turner was offered the presidency of a military contractor specializing in advanced avionics.

"Well, no matter" the Colonel continued, "I am really glad you are here, Tess. We have a lot of dangerous work cut out for us. Our mission is to support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Our brigade crossed the berm into Iraq to launch devastating deep attacks, and to protect the V Corps' western flank. Our troops are making excellent progress, but they are moving so fast that their rear is left exposed. We already had problems with enemy irregulars taking pot shots at our supply lines. We have a dual role: we must provide air support in advance of the Third Infantry to eliminate targets ahead of them and save enough ammo to target nuisances on the way back to the base. I want you to command three choppers to recon the field fore and aft, to use a boating analogy. Your Black Hawks have been equipped with rescue and medical evacuation equipment just in case they are needed."

Tess frowned. "Sir, I thought my job was to participate in the offensive in a combat capacity."

Reynolds smiled as if amused by the tantrum of a pretty little girl. "Tess, I am sure you can do a good job of that, but I need the best people I can get and put them where they can do the most good. I don't have to tell you that recon and rescue are, in many ways, even more dangerous than direct combat."

Tess felt her pulse and temperature rise. "Colonel, with due respect, I was trained as a combat aviator. I am assigned as one of your squadron commanders. According to the rules, I am to lead our units into battle and to safeguard you and headquarters so that you can direct operations. I don't need babysitting. I am here to do a job."

The CO looked at her in earnest. "Tess, I know you have a great record, but you must put yourself in my position. Besides promising your father that no harm will come to you, I am in a difficult political situation here. I am sorry to say, you are too good-looking and too visible for your own good. I don't want to explain to your dad and a hostile press that I have allowed someone like you to get killed, hurt or even worse. I don't think that we are ready for that, equality theories aside. In any case, you have an important job to do, with commensurate risks, if that makes you feel better."

Tess stayed at full attention in her chair, but her mind was reeling. 'Dad rules again, and my gender is still a source of bias. I was foolish enough to think I had overcome that.'

"Colonel, in case you haven't noticed from my records, I am a Regular Army officer. My career depends on the combat experience that I obtain in the field. I am not afraid of facing combat, in fact, I seek it. Remember, I have been intensively trained to perform such duty."

The Colonel affected an avuncular posture and grabbed Tess's hands. "Tess, I know that, and I promise you will get an opportunity to do what you need to enhance your career. Let's just take it one step at a time."

Reynolds paused, and then assumed a conciliatory position. "I know that you have worked hard, Tess. You paid your dues. I am just asking you to do what I ask, and I assure you that when the time comes, you will get the chance to do whatever you want. We must stay flexible here. Just humor me. Start recon, and let's play it by ear. In the meantime, we have troops to feed, take care of and motivate. Let's go meet them, Major!"

"Yes, Sir," Tess responded, having concluded that this is as far as the Colonel would go at this time. More of the same; again; she would have to find a way to prove herself as a warrior, pretty face notwithstanding.

Colonel Reynolds opened the office door and waved Tess through. The base was fully operational. People and aircraft working on an operation designed to cut through the heart of Iraq, and to make a run all the way to Baghdad. In less than a minute, they walked into a busy hangar. Several troops were busy readying AH-64 Apache and UH-60 Black Hawk choppers for unloading from an enormous transport aircraft.

"Atten-shun!" screamed an NCO, letting everyone know that the Old Man was on the premises.

"At ease" responded the Colonel. The crew, a combination of maintenance techs and pilots, stopped what they were doing as the CO and Tess ascended a platform over the aircraft.

In a powerful, commanding voice, the Reynolds addressed the group.

"People, I would like to present to you, Major Morgan Turner. She will command our recon and rescue squadron." An appreciative whistle was heard from the back of the audience. Reynolds frowned but managed to ignore it.

"Major Turner has top ratings on both the Black Hawk and Apache. She can also fly Kiowa's. Her assignment is to lead our recon operations as we advance and to protect the rear of the armored column and the refueling units. I am sure that all of you will get to know Major Turner, and that you will provide her with any required assistance and support to make us the team that Saddam fears most!" The troops cheered enthusiastically.

Tess saluted smartly. "Thank you, Colonel."

She went through the usual round of introductions, met her crew, and sat through a preliminary tactical briefing. The unit had orders to deploy in 36 hours.

All pilots were given 24 hours R&R before the festivities started. Kuwait City was not exactly Vegas, but it had nice hotels and restaurants. Better than a tent, anyway. On the way out, Tess checked out her Black Hawk chopper. Nice machine, difficult to fly, sometimes unreliable. Just about right for what she wanted to accomplish: being the warrior she was trained, and wanted, to be.