To meet someone else who was a similar free spirit was simply awesome.
His eyes flicked to the oak leaves on her shoulders, so he came to attention and saluted. He saw the humour in her eyes as she returned it, very smartly, he noticed, and then he relaxed.
“Sergeant Skye,” she said. Her voice was as he had imagined, and despite himself, he grinned at her.
“Ma’am.”
This time her smile broke into a grin, and she held out her hand.
“I’m Michelle, and if you never salute me again when we are alone, it will be too soon,” she said.
Red shook her hand, discovering her grip firm but somehow retaining the essence of her obvious femininity. She had nothing to prove, and he found he retained her hand for some time.
She smiled.
“Are you done?” she said, and Red released her hand abruptly.
She slung her pack into the Huey.
“What have you been told?” she asked.
“Nothing, Ma’am.”
She looked at him and put her hands on her hips. Then she nodded, crossed her arms, placing her hands on her shoulders, covering her oak leaves.
“What have you been told?” she repeated.
“Nothing, ma’…Michelle.”
He was rewarded with one of those smiles that melted icebergs.
“Okay, let’s grab a coffee, and I will brief you. I don’t intend to call you Sergeant, so what do I call you?”
“My given name is Martin, Ma… Michelle. But my close friends call me Red.”
“Am I a close friend?”
“I got no problem with that. It’s up to you,” he found himself saying, and instantly regretted it, feeling he had gone too far.
“Okay, Red. Come on,” she said, turning and heading towards the hangar.
She just walked into the works bay and helped herself to a coffee, pouring one for Red. No one paid either of them any attention, it was almost as if they were invisible. She went to a table, swept the rubbish onto the end and placed a map of the New Mexico region onto the table.
“Are you familiar with this area?” she asked, pointing to a specific part.
He looked carefully at the map.
“Yes and no. I have been there a couple of times, but I guess it depends on how familiar you want me to be. I can read most deserts like a book.”
“Okay. What do you know about Operation Trillium?”
“Nothing at all. I’ve never heard of it.”
“Good, then that’s hopeful. Operation Trillium is the Classified US operation to locate, identify, and open peaceful communications with alien colonies which are established in remote parts of Earth.”
He stared at her, but saw she was perfectly serious.
“Okay,” he said.
She smiled.
“You don’t believe in them, do you?”
“No, Ma’am, I don’t.”
“Well, you see, I do. I’ve been on one of their ships,” she said, as she rolled up the map.
He was revising his opinion of her when he got the fright of his life.
<<I may be blonde, I may look hot, but believe me, Sergeant Red Skye, I’m anything but a dumb blonde bimbo!>>
He was watching her, she was not even looking at him, and her lips were around the coffee cup.
She turned her ice-blue eyes towards him. His mind was less complex than the colonel’s, but his concepts of right and wrong, good and bad were far more clearly defined. He was at heart a much more basic man, the product of his heritage and upbringing in a hostile America. He had risen above the bigoted tormentors of his youth, partly by being bigger, and partly by being better. He was a good man, with high principals and a real sense of honour.
The Corps was an ideal place for him, and she understood why it had been his home for so long. He was able to gratify his sense of needing to belong, and to be proud of something. He was fiercely loyal to those he was close to, to the point of personal sacrifice on several occasions under fire. She felt suddenly sorry that she had shocked him, but she was determined to prove how important this job was.
<<What’s the matter, never had your mind read before? By the way, I’m flattered that you find me sexually attractive, but I hope that doesn’t get in the way of our professional relationship.>>
Red had been afraid a few times in his life, but this time he was terrified.
Michelle saw his fear.
“Now, do you believe?” she asked, much to his relief, aloud.
“Yes Ma’am,” he said, unable to meet those clear blue eyes.
She smiled at him, but when she spoke, her voice was soft and full of understanding.
“Red, believe me, I’m not the enemy here. In fact, I don’t even know if there is one, or if there is, or what it looks like. But perhaps if you just hear what I have to say, you will understand a little of what I have gone through.”
He managed an uncertain smile.
They were interrupted by the pilot.
“Major, we’re all fuelled up.”
“Okay. Come on. I’ll explain on the way,” she said.
During the hour flight, she told him her story. She didn’t mention anything before the abduction, and left out her previous identity, but she was graphic in her description of the aliens, their craft and their intentions.
She transmitted the whole story telepathically, so Red became used to hearing her inside his head. When she stopped, he almost cried out, as he felt suddenly alone again, even though she sat opposite him.
<<Can you hear or understand all my thoughts?>> he tentatively asked her.
She smiled and nodded.
<<This is weird.>>
She nodded again. <<It’s okay once you get used to it. Imagine how I felt, suddenly the world was full of thoughts - all shouting. I had to learn how to shut them out,>> she thought to him.
<<You, um, you read my thoughts when I first saw you?>>
<<I had to gauge your reaction towards me. Then I had to work out how best to approach you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, but if it is any consolation, I’m used to it now.>>
<<Does everyone react the same way to you?>>
<<No, most men, a few women, and to different degrees.>>
He reddened, so she reached out and gently touched him on the arm.
<<But I rarely feel anything back.>>
He frowned.
His mind was racing, on the one hand trying NOT to think what sprung unbidden into his mind, and on the other hand, trying to think clearly of something he wanted her to hear.
Then her words sunk home.
She smiled again, but turned and looked out of the window. Her silence was worse than the voice in his head.
<<You felt something?>> his thought was not deliberate, more a reaction, but it was there nonetheless.
Those wonderful eyes turned back and looked at him.
<<Aren’t I allowed to be a woman?>>
He felt he was intruding, and that he was out of order. She was a sophisticated lady, an officer, with obvious intelligence and culture. He had no right to hope. He was a grunt. He was a Marine.
<<I’ll do you a deal.>>
Her thought startled him.
<<What?>>
<<I won’t intrude in your mind, as long as you treat me as an equal, and be totally honest with me. Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear, but say things straight. Deal?>>
He thought about it and nodded. She held out her hand and they shook.
<<What if?>> he thought, and wondered if she could hear.
<<What?>>
<<What if I call you first, like this?>>
<<Then I’ll be here,>> she thought to him, and he looked down as she squeezed his hand, which, yet again, he had not released.
Some strange chemistry was at work, both recognised it, yet were somehow powerless to identify it, nor guess where it would take them. Michelle felt strangely content, for she trusted this man more than anyone else she had met, even Gordon.