“Is that really her?” Trench asked. “Zoom in on her face.”
Coach complied, and they studied the high-definition image. “Look,” Coach said. “See that thing above the corner of her right eye? What is that? A mole, a freckle?”
“I think it’s a freckle.”
“Does she have a freckle there?”
“Dude, I haven’t noticed!”
“Yeah, I know what you’ve been noticing!” Coach shot back. He got up from his chair and grabbed his cell phone from the charger.
“Where you going?” Trench asked.
“Going to find out for sure. I’ll leave you two alone while I head down to the ready room. Be right back.”
Coach closed the door behind him, and Trench stared at the computer screen. Yes!
A booming roar from a jet recovering on the angled deck above vibrated the passageway as Coach headed aft. Bounding over knee-knockers with purpose, he turned amidships and then aft on the starboard main passageway to Ready 5. He found Shane sitting in the back alone.
Perfect!
“Hey, Shane, how’s it going?” he asked her. There it is, he thought as he spied the small brown mark above her right eye.
“Great! How about you?” she beamed back at him.
“Great. Hey, we’re sending the spouses photos of us at work, and as the new guy, they will want to see you. Let me get a photo of you here on duty.”
“Okay,” she answered, brushing back a wisp of her hair as Coach framed the shot.
“Glasses or no? How about one with each and you pick?”
“Okay,” Shane said and posed for each with her dazzling smile.
Coach showed her the photos. “Here, you go. This one… or this one?”
Replacing her glasses, Shane compared both. “I think the one with glasses.”
“Glasses? You sure?”
“Yeah, that’s kind of who I am. Glasses!” she said, blushing.
“Okay, you got it. Thanks, Spy.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks!” Shane called as Coach spun for his stateroom to compare the evidence.
Once there, Coach opened the door and closed it behind him. “I think we have a winner,” Coach said to Trench. He placed his phone next to the computer screen, and they compared the images of Shane. Coach pumped the air. “That’s her, man! Same spot right there.”
“Are you sure?”
“What? You need a fuckin’ micrometer here? It’s her. See, it’s right above the right corner, same ratio from her eyebrow. We have an intel officer and a centerfold model in the squadron.”
Trench smiled. Maybe Shane wasn’t such a little ingénue after all. And, with the right amount of charm, maybe he could photograph her and…. He was now as determined to bed her as he was to earn his wings. He had to have her, and it made no difference whether it was aboard ship or ashore.