Chapter 1
Dominic Santini gathered the mail for the day. He settled into his chair in the office to go through the pile of envelopes. He started to sort the mail as he looked at the return address on each one. He read out loud. "Bill. Bill. Big bill!" he tossed the bills into a pile. His thick fingers grasped a plain white envelope. He paused as he read the return address. "Jackie Jackson." his mouth gaped. He took a deep breath for he was told she was dead. "How?" he asked himself.
Stringfellow Hawke walked into the office. "I need a pen." he stated looking about. He then noticed the shocked expression upon Dom's face. "Everything okay?" he asked.
He shook himself out of the stupor. "I'm alright. I was just going through the bills…"
String held up a finger. "I turned every light off for the last month. It can't be that high." He assumed Dom was upset over the electric bill.
"No," he shook his head. "I got a letter from my old wingman." His hands shook as he opened it up. He dug out a handwritten letter.
String asked. "Your old wingman?"
"From the war." Dom told him. "I had two. One was your father and the other was Jackie."
"Okay." he shrugged.
"Jackie was shot down over enemy lines. I was told she died." he insisted.
String cocked an eyebrow. "She?"
"She was a girl. Jackie Jackson. She was one the ninety-nines. When war broke out, she snuck in. Well, first she was drafted in by the Brits. When we entered, she snuck in using her RAF file." He recalled. "She was under the hight limit but we needed pilots so bad the Army Air Corps looked the other way. Of course, they thought she was a boy too." He started to read the letter. "Dear Dom, I hope this letter finds you well. I only recently discovered that the Army told all my brothers in arms in the Air Corp that I had died. I wondered why you never wrote for all these years. I assumed you didn't wish to bring up the past." He looked at String. "That's not true, String. I would given anything to speak to her again." He continued to read. "Anyways, I am moving to California and I was searching for a job. I came across your airfield. I was wondering if we could meet up. You don't have to give me a job. I just would like to see you again. I understand if you don't want to see me. Our last words were not so kind." Dom sniffed and drew in a breath as he held back the tears. "But I hope you would like to meet up. Maybe for lunch or coffee. Yours truly, Jackie." He looked for a phone number. "Here's her number. I should call her."
String never seen Dom so excited. He motioned. "Call her."
He picked up the phone and began to dial. "She lives in New York." he mentioned. "Should be around four there." he held the receiver to his ear. His eye lit up as he heard a familiar voice on the other end.
"Hello." she answered.
"Jackie." Dom spoke.
"Dom! You got my letter." she figured.
He nodded as he spoke. "I just got it today. Me and the boys were told the Nazis killed you. You were declared dead."
"I knew I was declared dead but I had no idea they told you that." she sighed. "I'm so sorry. I heard John Hawke died. I'm so sorry you lost him."
"Thanks Jackie. It's okay. I raised his boys. Hey, you should meet, String." he grinned. "When you coming?"
"I leave in two days." she informed. "I'm packing now. I sold the farm and I need a place to store my plane. You got any space for rent, Dom?"
"I sure do." he assured her. "What plane you got?"
"I was racing but sold that and got myself a P-51 to restore. It's airworthy but not ready for shows yet." she informed. "I'm restoring her and going on a living history tour."
He beamed. "That's sounds like a fine plan. I would be glad to rent you a space. I can even help with the P-51." he insisted.
String sat in a chair and observed as Dom seemed to have turned into putty before him. He wondered what was the situation between Dom and Jackie.
She then mentioned. "My son will be coming with me to California. He's taken a new job teaching. I would like you to meet him."
"I would love to meet your son." he beamed.
She replied pleased. "I think you and Danny have a lot in common. Though, he's not much of a pilot. He's into history and stuff like that."
"I will like to meet him." Dom assured.
"That will be wonderful." she beamed. "I will see you in five days, Dom." she disconnected the call.
Dom hung up the receiver as his mind raced. Jackie was not only alive but coming to see him. He gathered a lease agreement for one of the hangers on the field. "Let's see. Hanger zero, zero one should do it. A P-51 should fit in there." he began to write.
String asked. "You are going to draw up a lease with no deposit, Dom?"
"Jackie is good for it." he waved off the concern.
"You thought she was dead for forty years." he reminded him.
"I was told she was dead. The brass lied to us. That's not her fault." he dismissed.
He pressed. "Just how did she get to be your wingman?"
"She snuck in." he reminded him. He opened his desk drawer and removed a black and white photo. "This is us. Me, Jackie and your dad. Jack is the little one." he handed the photo to String.
He grasped the photo and looked closer. His blue eyes settled on the image. His recognized his father, standing next to Dom and wearing his flight jacket and flight suit before the P-51. To Dom's other side stood a much shorter pilot also in a flight jack and flight suit. The smaller pilot sported sunglasses and short brown hair and had her hands in her jacket pockets. He glanced up at Dom sitting across from him.
"Boy, I remember the day that photo was taken, String." he recalled. "That was the day I found out Jackie was actually a girl…" he began to recall the tale.
1944
The sun shined down on the crisp spring day. The airbase was now in American hands and house squadrons of fighter pilots. The new P-51 Mustangs were now in service and taking the skies by storm.
Captain Dominic Santini just loaded the film into his camera. He wanted a photo of his two best friends: Captains John Hawke and Jackie Jackson. He made his way across the tarmac to the new airplanes. He called as he walked closer.
"John! Jackie!" Dom had to holler above the noise.
The shortest pilot emerged from behind the craft. She grinned and spoke in a low tone of voice. "Dom! I'm not sure about belly landing but airfoils and powerhouse are going to give the Germans a run for the money." she stated most impressed. She then added. "This will make such a good racing bird." Occasionally, her voice would go an octave higher as she tried her best to sound and act like a man.
John Hawke walked over to Dom as well. He gave his opinion. "Least it's new and not patched together."
Dom stated. "Hey! Let me get your picture." He raised the camera and took a quick snapshot.
Jackie walked forward. "Let me get one of you and John." She took the camera from Dom and waited for the two men to stand together. She took the photo. Another airman was near. "Tommy! Take our picture." she requested.
The tall pilot walked over and grasped the camera. "Stand over there, pipsqueak." he instructed.
She complained and stood to the side of Dom. Tommy took the picture and Dom stepped forward to gather the camera. "Thanks Tom." he stated.
"Anytime." he mentioned knowing how quickly friends could be lost. Sometimes all that was left was nothing but a photo and a memory. He walked onto his plane.
Jackie requested. "I want a print of that."
"You will get one." he promised.
John stated. "Briefing is in fifteen minutes." He looked at Jackie expectantly.
"I'll see you there." she walked away quickly.
Dom asked. "Now where is he going?"
"Latrine." John told him. "He can't seem to hold at times." he gave a smirk as John Hawke had figured out the secret.
"I suppose I should hit the latrine too." Dom pondered. "Those powered eggs seem to run right through me." He then started towards the latrine as well.
John decided to follow the pair. He wondered how much longer Jackie could pull the wool over Dom's eyes.
Dom walked into the latrine right after Jackie. She was already in a stall. Dom entered the stall next to hers and started to do his business. The stalls were nothing more than a slab of plywood and a swinging door.
Jackie needed privacy and went out of her way to use the latrine and shower at the most insane time. She would try to avoid the men at all cost while in such a delicate space. She winced as Dom sat down in the next stall over.
Dom was chatty and with the latrine nearly empty he broke etiquette and allowed himself to talk. "Boy those eggs go right through ya, huh?"
Jackie shook her head. "I suppose." She held a special kit in her hands as she needed to change her tampon. As she fiddled a paper wrapped tampon fell on the floor and rolled towards Dom. "Shoot." she grunted.
"What's this?" he asked bending over and picked the contraption up.
"Can you just hands it to me?" she pleaded.
"What us it?" he asked looking closer.
She barked. "Just give it to me."
He reached down and passed the sealed article back under the wall of the stall. "Here."
"Thank you." she sighed relieved.
Confused Dom finished his business and flushed the toilet. He walked to the sick to wash his hands.
Jackie emerged next. She too went to the sink to wash up.
Dom looked over and noticed a slight smear of what looked to be blood on her wrist. He asked. "You bleeding?"
Her mood got the better of her. "How can someone as cute as you be that dumb?" she grumbled.
"What?" he asked bewildered. Dom has never been known for being cute. He was always the ugly pilot. John Hawke was the cute pilot.
John Hawke walked into the latrine. He found both washing at the sink. He chuckled to himself. "Everything okay in here?"
"Fine." she huffed irritated with herself.
"What was that little paper wrapped package you dropped?" he pressed.
She shook her head. "Nothing."
John asked. "Needs something burned?"
She handed him a small paper bag. "Please burn this."
Dom asked. "Now, what is going on?"
She sighed. "Oh' for Pete's sake. How dense can you be, Dom? John has known for months."
He asked. "Known what?"
She walked by. "I can't deal today." She left the latrine to go back to finish her inspection of the new plane.
Dom stood absolutely baffled. "What is it with Jackie?"
John stated. "You realize Jackie is not going to grow any taller or a beard, right?"
"So, he's a bit stunted." he shrugged.
"He's a girl, Dom." he told him. "She's one of Cochran's girls. She used to race planes. The Brits drafted her. Tossed her in a Spitfire and when we got here, they covered it up. So, she's with us now." he took a step closer. "And neither of us know anything and officially Jackie is one of the boys. Got it?"
He gasped. "Jackie is a girl? Are you sure?" he asked dumbfounded.
He nodded. "And she thinks you're cute." He turned and walked out of the latrine leaving Dom to figure out the situation.