Page 14 of Storm to Victory
“No, I can take it from here. Please see to it that the cook, assistants, and other new personnel being assigned here have what they need. Then you may return to your unit.” Fieran dismissed the lieutenant before he strode to join the cluster of flyboys that was forming at the edge of the grass lawn as more and more of them landed. He glanced around before he pointed at the manor. “The manor is ours.”
With a whoop, the whole pack of flyboys rushed off, shouting about picking rooms and exploring.
Fieran shook his head. Some things never changed whether one was a child or an adult. Leaving the flyboys to sort out the chaos, or cause it as the case might be, he strode toward the barn, halting in the doorway to take in the scene without getting in the way.
Pip stood in the center of the space next to a large stack of crates. Her mechanics, Mak, and what looked like a work crew of enlisted men sent from a nearby unit bustled about under her orders, unboxing each of the crates and placing the items in their new spots.
Fieran smiled and leaned against the large beam framing the doorway into the stable. Pip had come such a long way since those early days at Dar Goranth where she struggled to give orders to five mechanics. Now she gave orders without a blink.
Yet she wasn’t barking commands in a harsh manner either. When one of the mechanics made a suggestion different than her original order, she nodded and gave her approval. The enlisted men paused to ask her questions about where items went, and she answered with a smile and a wave of her hand in the direction of where she wanted the item.
She glanced up, and when her gaze landed on him, a warm smile blossomed across her face.
Fieran pushed away from the beam and strode farther into the bustle.
That bustle instantly died as everyone realized a major had just stepped into the barn. They came to attention, facing him.
Fieran dismissed them to go back to what they were doing and joined Pip. “Looks like you have things well in hand.”
Pip grinned and gestured around the space. “It isn’t as spacious as the hangar bays at Fort Defense, but it will do nicely.”
Fieran took a closer look at what she’d organized. In the front open space where the carriages would have been parked, Pip had cleared everything away, besides the crates still waiting to be sorted and put away. The wall to the left of the door had several wooden worktables lined up before it, their surfaces now covered with tools. Across the way, the empty crates had been turned on their sides and stacked, forming makeshift shelving where spare parts had been stashed.
The back of the barn was the actual stable portion with three stalls on either side of a short walk and a back door that opened into a pasture. Three of the stalls held a pile of what appeared to be junk, as if everything that wasn’t needed had been shoved there. The other three stalls held horses, who had their heads over the half wall of their stalls, ears pricked, as they watched all the bustle. Perhaps they’d been issued by the army in addition to the truck. Or perhaps the owner of this mansion had left thembehind when he fled. Either way, they would give the squadron another option for transportation.
The loft above the horse stalls held bales of hay, stacked all the way to the front. At least there would be plenty of food for the horses. If there wasn’t already someone assigned to the squadron to care for the horses, Fieran would have to set up a work rotation among the squadron, ground crew, mechanics, and everyone else here.
Pip gestured at the doorway. “I measured. If the barn doors are opened as far as they will go, the doorway is thirty and a half feet wide, just wide enough for the fighter aeroplane’s thirty foot wingspan if we’re careful about wheeling them inside for maintenance. The scout aeroplanes that are coming tomorrow won’t fit—they have a thirty-five foot wingspan—but that’s all right. We’ll just have to get used to performing basic maintenance outside. We can at least park any aeroplanes needing more than basic maintenance on the gravel drive in front while we’re working on them. And there’s this…” Pip grinned as she pointed upward at a track set into the center of the ceiling, a chain with a hook dangling from it. “That’s for hauling the hay into the loft. But it will be handy for any heavier maintenance we need to do.”
“Glad the barn will work.” Fieran resisted the urge to pull her close, the happy excitement in her voice and on her face enticing.
But she was working, and there were men who weren’t a part of the Half-Breed Squadron present. She needed to remain a commanding officer in their eyes.
The point was further hammered home as one of the men approached, carrying a stack of replacement propellers. “Where would you like these, Captain?”
Pip shared one last look with Fieran before she turned away and pointed toward the wall with the crates. “Stack them over there.”
Leaving her to her work, Fieran ducked out of the stable and strolled up the gravel drive toward the mansion.
Aeroplanes lined up at the edge of the front lawn beneath the shelter of the trees beside the lane toward the mansion, and the ground crew was wheeling one last aeroplane into place. No more aeroplanes circled overhead.
As he neared the front of the mansion, he met Rothilion and Merrik strolling up the drive from where their aeroplanes had been parked.
Rothilion regarded the brick mansion rising before them. “It appears the army has greatly improved our accommodations.”
“Yes, though I haven’t been inside yet to see what the owner left us.” Fieran shrugged and gestured at the building ahead of them as Rothilion and Merrik fell into step on either side of him. “I’ve been told healing stones were left for any of Flight A who need them.”
While man-made brick wasn’t as bad to elves as natural stone, it could cause headaches over a long period of time, such as living in the building.
Rothilion nodded. “That is surprisingly organized of them.”
“I know, right? Remember how chaotic it was when we were sent to Dar Goranth? We had to build our own aeroplanes.” Fieran shook his head with a sigh.
On his other side, Merrik gave a snort.
“That wasyourarmy. My army adequately provided aeroplanes and healing stones then as well.” Rothilion tilted his nose slightly skyward, his tone overly supercilious. “However, your army is running this invasion. Hence my surprise.”
Fieran laughed and slapped him on the back. “It seems you elves have been a good influence.”
