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The Polish Army had provided a fuel truck where and when promised, but it didn’t have the fastest pump on the planet. John took off his helmet and scrubbed at his hair while they waited. The cold air felt good against his scalp. They had at least ten minutes with nothing to do but wait.
He didn’t have to see Connie’s face to know he was in trouble. She grabbed his arm and guided him out into the night over the sharp crackle of the corn-stubble field. Her fingers would be digging in painfully if not for the padding of his flight suit.
A few dozen paces into the dark, she jerked him to a halt and turned him to face her by leveraging the grip on his arm. The two helicopters and the fuel truck were bathed in a soft red glow that did nothing to light the darkness of the overcast and moonl
