12 Minutes (#2 in Military series)

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The cargo plane came into land twenty minutes over schedule so when Captain Whitmore left the airplane cockpit and entered the hangar Marc was waiting for her.

"Make sure she gets refuelled for the next run," Captain Lucille Whitmore called back to her co-pilots as she walked across the hangar, a wad of flight papers clenched in her hand.

Dressed in an olive green one-piece flight suit, her helmet tucked under her arm, Marc found himself staring when she finally turned around and clocked him stood there.

Her footsteps slowed for a moment, shocked to find him there, "Marc?"

"Hey Lucy," Marc smiled.

"Oh my God, what are you doing here?" She hurried over and clasped his shoulder, "It's so good to see you."

A few people passed them in the hangar so he wasn't quite ready to tell her exactly why he was there, so he nodded to the cargo plane behind her, "I thought you flew jets?"

"Ever since we left Afghanistan the military have been downgrading," Lucille shrugged and guided him towards a space in the corner where two sofas had been pushed up against the wall, acting as a sort of rest area, "I was taken off fighter jets and put onto aid missions. Anyway, what's up with you? I haven't seen you for years, not since Jules was . . ."

Lucille bit her lower lip as she remembered hearing the news about Marc's partner being caught in an explosion. Lucille and Julia had been friends of sorts.

"Yes, well, she's better now," Marc felt like he was lying as he said it, "In fact, we're married now." He held up his hand and showed her the ring on his finger.

"Congratulations," Lucille gave him a genuine smile when they fell into silence.

"Marc . . ." Lucille rested her elbows on her knees, "Why are you really here?"

Marc clenched his hands together, "I wouldn't ask you if I had any other choice, you know that right?"

Lucille stared at him, "You're starting to worry me now."

"I need a favour," Marc sighed, "I need you to give me and Julia a ride to Afghanistan."

Lucille sat there and blinked at him for a moment.

"Luce?" Marc frowned.

"You- You want me to . . . smuggle you into Afghanistan!?"

"Ssh!" Marc hissed, glancing around quickly to see that nobody had heard him.

"Do you realise how nuts that sounds? And how illegal?" Lucille snapped and Marc could feel her slipping away but he needed to get her on his side. Without her, their plan wouldn't even get off the ground.

"I told you that I wouldn't ask if I had a choice. We can't take the commercial flights and we can't- Lucille, it's a matter of life and death, just trust me on that."

"Are these military orders?"

Marc's face contorted a little, "In a sense?"

Lucille stared at him for a moment before she stormed to her feet with a resolute shake of her head, "No. I'm stopping this before it goes any further."

"Lucille, please!" Marc stood and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back.

"If I get caught doing this it means a court martial. I could be dishonourably discharged, do you realise that?" Lucille shouted, pulling her arm out of his grasp.