After she took her first bite, Macho saw Trench, followed by sidekick Coach, pop through the knee-knocker opening and into the wardroom. Oh, great, she thought. Avoiding eye contact, she hoped they would sit with some of their airwing friends at other squadron tables. When they stopped beside her, thoughts of enjoying her own company at lunch were dashed.
“I see you sitting with all your friends. May we join you?” Trench said.
“Screw you,” Macho muttered into her plate.
“Why thank you, even though that’s against squadron rules. And, despite my endowment, I doubt I could accomplish that even by myself, but thanks for thinking I could. Lieutenant Madden, please be seated.”
Coach placed his tray next to Trench as they faced Macho, two poisonous snakes facing a mongoose. Trench continued to taunt his prey.
“And what do we have on the schedule today? Beat up on the Colombians? Find a fishing boat around the ship? Write a whiny letter to Navy Times crying about the mistreatment of women who call themselves warriors?”
Macho raised her chin, shot him a look, and answered his question with a question. “And what do you guys have on the schedule? Circle jerk in the bunkroom?”
Feigning indignation, Trench grinned. “Well, I believe there are certain rules, command directed and moral, against that sort of thing. So, no, that’s not on my schedule. How about you Coach? Circle jerk in the bunkroom for you?”
“No, thanks, and actually I have no experience with this. Macho, please explain,” Coach said.
“You guys wrote the instruction manual,” she replied as she wolfed down another forkful of rice.
“Oh, you got us on that one, Macho. Coach, we don’t stand a chance against her wit, and her brawn, and her big rippling eyebrows. And our enemies don’t either. Macho, you are a one-woman strike force, our secret weapon, the face that sunk a thousand ships. Glad we’re on the same team!”
Macho’s eyes narrowed on Trench as he smiled back at her, satisfied his blow had landed hard on her ego. I’m going to enjoy bringing your career to an end, she thought. Trench changed the subject.
“Where’s your roommate? She’s made a splash… professional, pleasant, helpful. Quite an addition to the junior league here aboard Coral Maru. You must be learning a lot.”
Macho smiled as she ignored the barb and, now that the opportunity had presented itself, was ready to spring her trap. Trench continued their sarcastic banter.
“Yes, Wonder Woman, the perfect helpmate. Probably down in the photo lab going over the latest recon images.”