At His Command by Karen Anders

correct?” Sia asked. With each word her throat got tighter. She’d read her brother’s report years after his death, and as Trudy related the incident, Sia became more alarmed.
    “Yes, ma’am. I tried to initiate communication just before the crash. He had his nose down. Lieutenant Monroe was yelling at him to bring his nose up and the flight crew handling the meatball were waving him off, but it was too late. He hit the deck hard, skidded across the platform and right off the end of the carrier, exploding as he dropped into the sea.” Her voice broke and held a note of the shock she still seemed to be experiencing, her eyes moist.
    “He didn’t even attempt to eject?” Chris asked.
    “No, sir.”
    “Meatball?” Sia said looking at the airman for an explanation.
    “It’s a series of lights that are calibrated to the horizon. It serves as a safeguard when pilots are landing on the carrier. If a pilot sees green, safe to land, if red, they need to break off and circle around to land again. The circles of light look like meatballs, so that’s how it got its name.”
    “Any other observations, Airman?” Chris asked.
    “Only that he was one of the finest pilots I’ve ever worked with,” she said emphatically. “I didn’t know him personally, but I knew him as a pilot. I was shocked to see his nose down like that. It was worse than a rookie mistake, malfunction or not.”
    “Thank you, Airman,” Chris said.
    Trudy nodded, but before she left, she turned back, tear tracks down her cheeks. “I hope you clear him of any blame. He doesn’t deserve to have his record marred this way.”
    All Sia could offer her was a quick nod, her emotions in turmoil and thoughts of her brother foremost in her thoughts.
    When the door closed behind Airman Schover, Chris turned to Sia. “Sounds like he could have made a mistake with the radar off. But he would have noticed if the meatball lights were red.”
    “Maybe he was impaired. He could have been too short on oxygen, or some other explanation.”
    Chris took a deep breath and then released it slowly. “That’s exactly how it went down when Rafael died, only my plane was still in the air and I ejected.”
    Silence filled the compartment, the kind that wove around the heart and squeezed tight.

Chapter 4
    J ust the mention of her brother’s name made Sia remember him and the day he’d died. She’d been figuring out the best way to tell her father she wasn’t going to New York. She wasn’t going to take a job that was too far away from Chris.
    She had answered the door when the Navy had come knocking to break the news about her brother. At first, she thought they had come to tell her Chris was dead and her heart had throbbed painfully in her chest. But when they’d told her it was her brother, the guilt only mixed in with the terrible grief and relief it hadn’t been Chris.
    She could tell by looking at Chris he was remembering that day, too. His beard-shadowed jaw hardened and his eyes went distant.
    “Do you think we’re dealing with more than pilot error in all these incidents?” she asked him, watching as his eyes focused again, but the pain and the grief lingered in their depths.
    “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but my gut is telling me something. I don’t usually ignore it.”
    She turned away from the emotion that darkened his eyes and set his mouth in a grim line. “What is your gut telling you?” The lack of sleep, the quick trip to Pearl and her injuries were beginning to take a toll. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed at her tired face.
    Chris didn’t miss the movement and his intense eyes studied her. “That somehow, some way, the two incidents might be connected.”
    For an instant her heart stopped. Now it was racing. “Do you remember Master Chief Walker from the McCloud six years ago?”
    Chris shook his head. “The people who serviced the planes were never really on my radar. I lived to fly and my focus was always on that.