Newly minted Captain William's mood did not fit the day. The weather was clear and crisp with a hint of fall in the air. It was excellent weather for flying. Instead Aaron's mood was one of foreboding. He kept going over in his mind the news he received yesterday. Chet Morgan was dead. He had been killed over in Holland during a big operation, one that could end the war. Morgan was the one who coined the phrase "the 3 Musketeers" when they were at Princeton. Most thought he was referring to their hockey line but Aaron knew it encompassed more. It had to do with friendship and commitment to each other, through thick and thin. Williams, Morgan, and Callahan, together forever and now Morgan was dead. Aaron hadn't heard from Jake Callahan since he shipped out with the 1st Marine Division. He knew they had some rough fighting and were now fighting on some God forsaken island named Peleliu. Aaron hoped Jake was all right.
Bill Archer slid up alongside Aaron as they crossed the tarmac. "You OK?"
"Yeah, just thinking," Aaron answered. "What's up?"
Archer looked around. "It's Gilles. He got a letter from home saying his wife fuckin' around. Some 4F clown. He is taking it pretty bad."
Gilles was the "Tantalizing Takeoff's" navigator and was a real horn dog. Every woman no matter her age was fair game. He felt he was doing his duty to comfort them because so few men were around. Aaron heard rumors that Gilles had replaced him in the affections of Bridget. No one pushed it because it was still a touchy subject.
"As long as he does his job, I don't care," Aaron said. "Personally, it couldn't happen to a nicer guy."
"Excuse me, Captain."
Aaron turned to face an older man dressed rather casually in a flight jacket and gear. "Yes?"
The older man thrusted out his hand. "I'm Peter Smithson, AP news. I was told I might be able to hitch a ride with you today. I liked to witness firsthand what I have been reporting perhaps get a good story too."
"Don't see why not. I think we can find room for you. I'll tell Sgt. Rousseau to hook you up."
Today's mission was to Hamburg to bomb the Harburg oil refinery. It wasn't their first trip to this site, as after they destroyed it, the Nazis would rebuild it. The weather was clear with very little cloud cover. It meant they could visual drop as the target would be clear. Unfortunately it also meant a clear target for the fighters and the flak gunners.
The German fighters were becoming more aggressive, more desperate in pressing home their attacks. Though none of his crew had seen it, Aaron was told that on at least two missions pilots had deliberately rammed some bombers.
And the flak seemed to be getting more accurate. On the last mission, one shell passed completely through the port wing. It didn't explode and luckily missed all vital connections. Other one exploded nearby and fragments cut into the mid-section. Most hit behind the waist gunners so even though it looked like a sieve, no one was hit.
That was part of their luck and even other crews talked about. So far not one crewman had been hit and "Tantalizing Take-off" had suffered only light damage. With Army Air Force extending the number the missions needed to go home, it seemed to be only a matter of time before their luck was up. Aaron had an awful feeling that it might be today.
So far the flight had been uneventful. Aaron and Bill talked about how easy it had been so far. Even the reporter seemed disappointed. Aaron let Bill take over the controls. Archer had been the co-pilot since they arrived in England and he acted as if that was all he wanted to be. When asked, he said he was happy where he was and he didn't want any more responsibility. Aaron gave him more and Archer took it but it seemed when someone else pushed it on him, he refused.
Of all the people on the base, Archer was Aaron's closest friend. It was Archer who set him up with Bridget with the idea they could double date since his girl and her were good friends. That didn't work out mainly because of Aaron but it didn't hurt their friendship. Bill understood and never pushed the issue. Archer had met Vicki on various occasions and could see for himself why Aaron decided the way he did.
The run into the target was uneventful but the flak seemed much heavier than the last time. The fighters were thick and getting thicker. The escort fighters had their hands full but so far they were being successful. Maybe Aaron was wrong about his feelings and their luck hadn't changed. They dropped their payload, turned and headed for home.
Vicki was cleaning up the flower shop and whistling a catchy tune. She couldn't remember where she heard it but now she couldn't get it out of her head. At least it seemed to make the work easier. Not that it matter as business had slowed and wouldn't pick up until the holidays. Still, it kept her busy.
Ever since she returned from the trip to London with Aaron, she was much more cheerful. She smiled more. The glow was back in her face and she had let her hair down which gave a softer look to her. She knew why she felt this way. She was in love, a deep, complete love. It was a love she always wanted and dreamed of.
In the days after London, she tried to act like the old Vicki, the one that returned to Duckworth after Robin's death and retreated inside herself. She began to rationalize her relationship with Aaron. She was too old for him; he too young for her. When the war ended, he would return to America and leave her here. She was lonely and this was just a reaction to that. She was acting like a silly young schoolgirl, not a mature woman. It was just sexual; there were no real feelings. For every logical argument she came up with, Vicki returned to the same conclusion.
She touched the ring and twirled it around her finger. There was no way around it; she was madly, deeply, in love with Aaron. It didn't make sense and she finally realized that love didn't make sense. Something, maybe fate, had them meet. Her life with Robin had been as if it was planned. There were certain steps they had to take which led to the next one.
It was so different with Aaron. There were no plans, nothing saying this is the way it should go. All she knew was when he was with her, she couldn't be happier. No matter what they were doing, it felt so right. When he wasn't there, she counted the minutes until he came again. But every day she felt happy, cheerful, and alive just knowing he loved her.
"My, someone is in a chipper mood today," Vicki's mother said entering the store through the back. "Must be it's the good weather."
"Oh, Mother, you know it isn't the weather," Vicki laughed.
"Yes, dear." Mother knew the answer and she was almost as happy as her daughter. It had been too long since she had seen Vicki act this way.
Vicki moved behind the counter and picked up a small clay pot. Suddenly she staggered, dropped the pot, and clutched the counter. She swayed, almost losing her balance.
"What is it, child?" Her mother moved quickly to her side.
Vicki was pale and clammy. She felt unsteady on feet. "Just a moment, mother. I'll be alright."
Her mother slid the stool behind her. "Here, sit. I'll get some water."
She returned with a glass. "What was it? You frightened me."
"I don't know." Vicki said slowly. "Suddenly this terrible feeling came over me. I can't explain it. It was worst than when you say someone walked on your grave and you get that feeling. It was awful. What could it have been?"
