Eleven Years of Grease Under Her Nails

That was exactly how I had survived.

Master Sergeant Cole Anders stormed through the chaos with a tablet under his arm and fear in his eyes.

"Cross." I looked down at the engine like I had not heard him. He kept walking. "Rebecca."

That time, my name landed like a warning shot.

I wiped my hands on a rag. "Sergeant, I've got a hydraulic leak on bay three. If you want a miracle, call procurement."

He stopped two feet from me. "Captain Hayes ejected over the southern Black Hills. His jet was carrying a classified sensor package. Recovery window is twelve minutes before the wrong people reach him."

Behind him, the fourth aircraft sat empty. Ladder down. Canopy open. Engines sleeping.

I forced myself to shrug. "I fix jets. I don't fly them."

Anders stared at me the way police stare at a driver who has already lied twice. "You sure about that?"

A cold line moved down my spine. Across the hangar, Lieutenant Dana Mercer climbed into her aircraft and glared through her visor. "Why are we talking to the oil rag? Launch us now."