Chapter 2
{ Feeding the Tigress }
Carter had PMS and free run of the base-nobody was about to get in her way just for the sake of a few regs-and I was a day overdue with my chocolate.
Unless I could get it in the base.
The kitchen!
Yes, I was brilliant!
They'd definitely have some chocolate on hand. As if the Air Force would miss out on such a perfect opportunity to defray a few operating expenses.
Now how could I get in there without being seen?
"Siler!"
The poor lieutenant was obviously still recovering from his close brush with death, because he jumped halfway to the ceiling. "Oh, just you, sir. I'm, uh, a bit busy, can't this wait?"
"Siler, I need you to get me into the kitchen."
"Uh, no can do, sir. Sorry."
"Siler, you've got five seconds to decide between taking me in or repainting the base with one of Dr. Jackson's little archaeology brushes!" I barked, getting right in his face.
"Uh, the answer stands, sir."
I wasn't getting through to him. Carter had him under her thumb.
"Lieutenant, all you're doing is taking me in. Even if she catches us, I'll take the rap."
He didn't even answer; the response was obvious. It wouldn't be the first time Carter's operated on guilt by association. I still had trouble sleeping if I thought of what she'd done to the poor airman, and I was the kind of person who'd seen village of corpses and managed to catch my usual six hours.
It was time for a different approach. "Siler, I hear that you're having some trouble getting the requisitions for those doped diamonds approved."
Siler blanched. Carter had asked him for those things a month ago, for one of her little doohickeys. Something about semiconductors that I didn't quite understand.
"I know some people, Siler, who can get those through lickety-split. But I won't be around to make that happen if you won't get me into that kitchen. Soscratch my back and I'll scratch yours, right?"
"Sure, sir." He led me off.
* * *
"No, sir."
"What do you mean, 'no, sir'?" I demanded, getting frustrated.
"Sir, we don't have a single bar of chocolate left. You wouldn't believe how many people are scared when the major gets like this."
Figured. "Listen, airman. I'd be willing to settle for anything. Pudding, even."
"Well" the airman's face twitched, then resolved itself. "No, sir. We haven't got even a single bar of chocolate."
I pounced. "Ah, but you have something else, don't you?"
"Uh"
"I can't hear you!" That line always got them, especially the new ones. Sometimes it makes me think the DI's are in a constant state of PMS.
"Sir! Yes, sir!" The airman barked, snapping to like he'd signed up for the Marines.
"At ease, airman. Now where is it?"
He pointed. "Sir, you can't take that. It's for Kayla."
I glanced. It was a beautiful half-gallon of fudge ice cream, with chocolate-chip cookie crumbs. "Airman, you've just earned yourself a commendation."
"Sir, that's for Kayla."
KaylaHammond's granddaughter?
I weighed my options.
Steal ice cream from the granddaughter of my general and CO
"No more blue Jell-O?" came Carter's outraged cry. Siler, the airman, and myself went down on the floor.
"Airman, you've got five minutes to get me a banana split with that ice cream."
Hammond wouldn't mind if a few scoops were missing. It was his command Carter would be terrorizing if she didn't get her chocolate, after all.
The general wouldn't mind making a few sacrifices for his people.
"Airman, the general will understand. And the faster Carter gets that the sooner she leaves."
The airman started belly crawling towards the freezer.
Siler and I huddled under a table until Carter changed her mind and wandered off with a packet of cookies.
"Here's your ice cream, sir! Please give it to her quickly!" The airman shoved a bowl into my hands, and I followed Siler out the rear entrance.
Trying not to touch the bowl as I held it, I circled and came back in, stopping briefly to get a spoon before heading
towards the large circle of unoccupied tables around Carter's position.
"Hi, Major, Jonas." I held the bowl behind my back, angling for a bit of sport here.
Carter sniffed.
God, could she smell chocolate?
"You have chocolate," she hissed, staring at me.
"Maybe."
I never thought such vicious daggers could spurt from Carter's clear, baby-blue eyes.
"Give me. Now!"
I plopped the bowl down in front of her quickly. The woman could do a frightening imitation of T.I. Garcia when she wanted toeven though I'd gone through Basic decades ago and Garcia was a little white-haired Mexican man who looked like he should be terrorizing piranha in a nursing home somewhere.
Carter's eyes grew huge.
"I thought you might be a bit peckish."
"Thank you, sir!" she squealed suddenly, causing half the people in the room to hunch over their meals and eat with noticeably more speed and the other half to pop their heads up and glance our way like frightened rabbits.
Looks like I wasn't the only one getting flashbacks of their Basic days.
Carter dug into the sundae likewell, like a chocoholic woman in the grips of pre-menstruation syndrome.
