“Yes. I imagine she has some experience with cameras,” Coach added.
Macho lifted her eyebrows in response as she poked at her food, a gesture not unnoticed by the men. Trench smelled blood.
“I’m sure she did some modeling in her day. I’m thinking a hand model,” Trench volunteered. “What do you think, Coach? Hand model? She does have beautiful hands, not that I’ve noticed them, or any of the physical attributes on her or any of the women aboard. Especially you, Macho.”
“Haven’t noticed either, dude,” Coach confessed. “She’s just the squadron intel officer to me. Besides, she’s much too straight-laced to be a model.”
Macho, building energy, answered in exasperation. “Just because a girl wants to be feminine you think she’s a slut. Who hasn’t taken some images she regrets? Everyone does it these days.”
“Yes, everyone, before you get to be twenty-three and it’s too late. If you’ve got it, get in front of the camera. Guess you were best behind the camera. Right, Macho?”
“You dickheads better leave her alone!” Macho lashed out in a tone low enough not to attract attention. “She’s a girl, and she’s not perfect, and you guys don’t have girlfriends who pressure you! Not that any girl would ever be your girlfriend! I’m outta here.”
Macho got up and stalked out, biting her cheeks to keep from smiling. Her trap was sprung, and they were caught in it. Yes! I’ve got ‘em!
* * *
As they watched Macho storm off, Coach turned to Trench and shook his head. “Guess we’re going to die alone, bro.”
“Yes,” Trench agreed, “we’re pigs. But, first, we have some research to do.”
* * *
Later that day, Olive placed her wardroom food tray across from Annie. “XO, may I join you?”
“Please do,” Annie replied, taking a bite of salad.
Olive removed her food from the tray and arranged it on the table. A sailor took away her tray. Having arrived late in the lunch period, the two Firebird pilots were alone at the squadron table.
“What do you have today?” Annie asked.
“Night intercept hop with Macho. How about you, ma’am?”
“Bombing the wake with Killer this afternoon, then a night surface search with Jumpin.”
Both pilots took a bite of their food. Olive continued, “XO, when do you think we’re going to leave here?”
Annie shrugged. “I don’t know. Haven’t heard anything from above, and the skipper doesn’t know either. Getting to be like Groundhog Day, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I mean, bumping heads with the Colombians is cool and all, but we’re searching the same patches of water day after day.”
“The test guys need to finish up, too, and they are taking forever. But it’s beautiful down here. Guess only us aviators can complain about lots of flying in clear skies.”