Free Morgan's Mercenaries: Heart of Stone by Lindsay McKenna Page A

bacon?”
    The laughter felt good to Maya. She knew the let-down after a tense combat situation was necessary. Fortunately, they could talk on a private channel between the two Apaches, so that no one else could pick up their banter. She was sure York would have a hemorrhage if he’d heard them just now. No, it was going to be fun to watch the good ole boys from Fort Rucker get a look-see at the Eye of the Needle. It was going to be even more enjoyable to watch them sweat their way through it for the first time. That made any pilot, no matter how experienced, tense up big time.
    “Well, ladies, let’s go home and see these guys pucker up.”
    The laughter was raucous.

Chapter 4
    D ane York was nervous as he stood aside, watching the all-women crews hurriedly move the three new helicopters into the maw of the huge cave. His heart was still pounding in his chest from barely squeaking through that damned entrance they called the Eye. His other pilots and crew members stood off to one side on the rough rock surface of the lip of the cave, out of the way, tense looks on their faces. Only one person had welcomed them, a woman with short red hair who introduced herself as Chief Warrant Officer Lynn Crown before hurriedly running off to direct the crews as to the placement of the new gunships.
    As the clouds around the high lava wall thinned, Dane gazed at the Eye. He heard the approaching Apaches on the other side of it. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he settled his garrison cap on his head and waited. As the morning sun burned off some of the thicker clouds he could see the entrance better.Shaking his head, Dane realized just how tight that aperture really was. How many times a day did Maya fly her Apaches in and out of that thing? What a helluva “needle” to try and thread. Dane wondered how anyone, man or woman, could muster enough brain power and concentration after an exhausting mission to slip through it without nicking the blades of their Apache on the unforgiving lava walls. His admiration for Maya’s pilots rose.
    Joe and Craig moved to his side. They all watched as another woman, dressed in an olive-green T-shirt and fatigues, trotted out with red-orange flare sticks in her hands and stood at attention opposite the Eye. One of the Apaches was coming through. The crewmember raised her hands above her head to direct the helicopter into a landing spot once it flew through the opening. Dane’s eyes narrowed as he watched. Though he and his men had crawled through, literally, this first Apache came through like the pilot was on a Sunday drive!
    “I’ll be go-to-hell,” Joe gasped in amazement. “That’s some purty flying. Will ya look at that? Whoever the pilot is, she just flew through that opening like it wasn’t there!”
    “No kidding,” Craig muttered, scowling.
    Dane said nothing, his mouth flattening. The first Apache landed opposite where they stood, on the other side of the massive lava lip. Bruising waves of air buffeted them, kicked up by the rotor blast as the gunship landed. The lip was at least four hundred feet wide and about one-quarter of a mile long, from his estimates. The maw of the gigantic cave was simply mindboggling. Inside the shadowy space, crews were running at full tilt as they positioned the three new helicopters in the maintenance area.
    The second Apache flew through smoothly in turn, as if the Eye weren’t there, either. It landed so close to the first one that Dane held his breath momentarily. The punctuation of the rotors pounded the entire area; the wall across the cave opening acted like an echo chamber of huge proportions, until his eardrums hurt from the reverberations. Wind kicked up by the rotor blades slammed like a boxer’s gloves against his body. Still, as Dane watched the two crews hurry toward the Apaches that had just landed, he was critical of everything.
    He didn’t think Maya Stevenson could run a squadron. However, from the way the crews worked