On Target
Over the Caribbean Sea Present Day
"BLACKBIRD 33, BLACKBIRD 33, this is Sentry 20
reporting a pirate ship at your ten o'clock, twentyeight miles."
Pirate ship? The improbable radio call from Sentry rattled around in flight engineer Shane "Vegas" O'Riley's headset as he manned his station of the CV-22 aircraft. He couldn't have heard what he thought.
Sure they were out over the wild and wooly Caribbean, but someone must be screwing with them. Air Force crewdogs were well known for their practical jokes.
Except today, he couldn't be any less in the mood for gags. This flight to deliver supplies served a dual purpose for him. He would make a stop at a tiny godforsaken island where his wife worked teaching in the latest needy village to cross her aid group's radar.
There, he would also hand over divorce papers for her to sign.
But back to these freaking pirates. Since the weather was dog crap, he was in charge of the radio while the two pilots had their hands full with the bouncing airplane.
Shane thumbed the radio "transmit" key, sweat burning his eyes, his flight suit sticking to his shoulder blades in the unrelenting ... read full excerpt from: On Target ebook
