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The Mission Begins

Chapter Two

The Mission Begins

Myron slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and entered the front door leading into the Trenton air base hangar. He would be flying over to Kuwait in one of their cargo planes.

Even though he was a Special Forces soldier, there were no special treatment flights for him to take. He would have to travel with the supplies being sent over; supplies such as jeeps, crates of ammunition's, nonperishable goods for the troops who their reconnaissance scouting behind enemy lines. Other than the pilots, he might even be the only person on this flight. He would not know for sure until he was actually on the plane, buckled in and ready to go.

“Are you about ready to go Captain Skoryk?” A baseman asked, as he strapped himself in to one of the seats along the wall of the cargo plane.

“As ready as I am ever going to be.”

“Good to hear.” He yelled as he ran towards a man standing in the doorway leading to the cockpit of the plane. “Just let me get off and you will be good to go.” The man how yelled took a sharp turn to the left and the man standing in the door to the cockpit moved in the direction of the exit, bent down grabbed hold of a lever and pulled it up. Within a few seconds, the hatch was sealed then the man disappeared through the cockpit door, closing it behind him. A couple minutes later, the plane was shaking and shimmying, as the reverberation of the motor, was felt from tip to stern, by all who were in and around the aircraft. She rumbled into life and shook even more as she was put into gear to first back out of the hangar, turning on the tarmac and then slowly moving forward being guided into position. Next came the rumbling of tires and wings as it slowly moved into position getting ready to taxi through, onto the runway. Myron had done this many times in his relatively short career with the Military, but still felt compelled to press his back into the wall of the aircraft his seat belt was attached to.

* * * * *

It seemed like he had just gotten his bird up into the air, when he saw missiles coming at him. He could either try to fly through them or try to drop out of their path. At this distance, it was difficult to determine whether they were heat-seeking missiles, or he was simply in their flight path. With only one, way for him to find out, he opted to drop down and try to get out of their paths. He quickly determined they were indeed heat-seeking missiles. As he moved, they moved too, he dodged and tried to outfly them. When they got close enough to each other, they seemed to connect with their own heat signatures and collided into each other. Once again, he had bit the bullet, so to speak, and found himself fortunate enough to escape. He gave up a little prayer of thanks, thanking God for saving his life once again. This had not been the first time he had experienced a near miss in death and he had a feeling it would not be the last time, either. As a pilot flying the war chopper, he realized he would have more near misses in his future.

His prayer was to live long enough to be able to tell his grandchildren about his experiences. However, first he would need to find, and meet the future Mrs. Myron Skoryk. At the age of 30, he still hadn’t met the woman who would keep his heart.

* * *

He’d been told a few times, “Drop some of your many requirements on your list of yay’s and nay’s for the future Mrs.”

He’d met and dated several close to perfect women, but as of yet hadn’t met the one he would classify as perfect.

In his mind, the near misses of marriage and near misses of missiles fired at him, fit into two different categories, too fast or not the right timing. He didn’t know which was more accurate, but he preferred to think, too fast. However, at some point, there had to be a collision coming, hopefully of the female persuasion, not a missile blow up. He turned his chopper around and headed back to the Kuwait base.

* * *

Landing the chopper, men came running out of the hangar yelling, “What the heck was that?”

“What the heck was what?”

“Are you some sort of missile magnet?”

“Oh, that?”

“We’ve heard all the stories about you and we didn’t believe them till today. Every time you take a chopper out, within seconds, there are missiles on your tale and you seem to outmaneuver them every time. One of these times you will not out run them.”

Myron laughed, “As long as I need to be alive, I will continue to out run or out fly them. On the day one catches me, is the day I’m supposed to die.”

“Isn’t that how you see women too?” The mechanic, Jimmy asked.

“The wrong women? You betcha, and I’ll keep out running them too, until I meet the right one. The one who hits me right here and I know I can’t live without her.” Myron brought both his hands to his chest and made a sound and movement to show his heart exploding.

“Be prepared to spend the rest of your life single then, cause there is no perfect woman!”

“Perhaps that’s true in your case, but there is for me. She might be in my midst right now and I just haven’t made my move yet.”

At that moment, a young female soldier popped around the corner and Myron could not help, but check her out before whispering, “This may be the one.”

Jimmy chuckled as he walked away.

“That was the coolest flying. I happened to be up in the tower when the first missile came on the radar. Tony told me to watch some fancy flying and he was right. You are some fancy flyer. Tony handed me a pair binoculars to watch with and wow. I was amazed at how easily you out maneuvered those missiles.”

“It was nothing special, it comes with experience. Given time, if you are a flyer, you might be able to, too.” He had gotten used to cadets being overly excited about watching him fly and he had done this so often that to him it was child’s play. Wanting to impress the redhead in front of him, though, was another story. He liked what he saw, and she seemed to hold at least three of his requirements. She was pretty, had a nice figure, and judging by some of the hair sticking out from under her cap, she was a redhead to boot. He had a thing for redheads. However, they had not dated or even seen each other at a military function so, perfect? Maybe, maybe not, but time would tell.

“It seemed pretty special to me.” She gushed and then blushed.

“Hey, that was just a test run to make sure this helicopter has everything working right. Tomorrow is the real thing. For tonight though, are you going to Royal Quarters?” Myron asked with a tone of indifference, even though he hoped she would be interested.

Royal Quarters was the name of a little Café/bar situated in one of the barracks. Even though this happened to be a new outbreak in this area, it was not new in this country. Royal Quarters activities had even made the headlines in newspaper stories back home as being the place to go when in Kuwait.

“I hadn’t planned on it. I’m not really much of a drinker or partier.” She wrinkled her nose, “But if you are going to be there, I will.” Her eyes brightened, nodded her head and smiled.

“Yeah, I was thinking of going, but didn’t want to go alone. I have never been there, but heard lots about it.”

“I have heard lots about the place too, which is why I have never been there. But, as I said, if you are going to be there…,” she trailed off, looking to the ground, a blush coming over her face.

“Meet you there at 15:00 then?”

“Sure thing, Captain, see you there at 15:00.” She said as she saluted, turned and walked away. “Oh and by the way, the name is Sonja.”

“Good to know, Sonja.”

* * *

“You sly dog, you ! Do you know how many guys have wanted to take a round with her?”

“No and I don’t want to. I’m not aiming to take a round with her. I genuinely want to get to know her.”

“Yeah, so do the others.”

“Perhaps, but I’m thinking they aren’t interested in her heart. Their interest is in other parts of her body.”

“Do you blame them? Look at her. Even I would like to see her out of uniform and I am not referring to civilian clothes.”

Even though Myron was not celibate and having definitely bedded his share of women, he liked to get to know them first. He was not interested in bedding anyone on a first date, and his meeting Sonja at the Royal Quarters, would not be a date. If he had asked her on a date, he would pick her up and take her to their destination not meet her there.

“You’re the dog, buddy.” He said as he walked away with a smile on his face.

* * *

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