While Dixon’s air defenders waited, Peters and Sarson entered the 1st of the 9th Cav’s sector. Assigned to screen the division’s northern flank from just such a threat, a pair of AH-64s from 1-9 Cav prowling along King Hill Creek heard the alarm. Like all young aviators who have taken to the air, the crew members of these Apaches carried with them the dream of coming head to head with an enemy helicopter in aerial combat. Those who have never flown likened this primeval warrior urge for one-on-one combat with a foe of equal skill and cunning to Snoopy’s fanciful quest to defeat the dreaded Red Baron.

This wasn’t the sort of thing that 1st Lieutenant Megan Kessler had been raised to aspire toward. Her mother had wanted her to be a medical doctor while her father had hoped she would make her mark in corporate America. So when it came, Kessler’s choice of an Army career baffled both. Somehow neither understood that the keen sense of competition and pursuit of excellence that they had instilled in their daughter had pointed her toward the one profession where such attributes are pushed to the extreme.

It wasn’t until Fort Rucker and the Army’s School for Aviation that Kessler was infected by the Snoopy syndrome. Once it took hold, the idea of fighting another helicopter never let go. As soon as she heard that there was an enemy helicopter entering their assigned patrol sector, Kessler began looking for a way to place her section in harm’s way. After consulting her map and seeing that Little Canyon ran parallel to the one they were in, the first lieutenant found she couldn’t resist the urge. Fate was tempting her with something no Apache crewman in her boots could resist.

Without informing her troop commander, Kessler skipped over into the narrow valley through which Little Canyon Creek ran. The E-3A controller saw the two 1-9 Cav Apaches make the move and grinned as he watched from his distant perch. “This ought to be good,” he snickered as he pointed at the screen that displayed multi-million-dollar machines flown by flesh and blood crewmen as tiny computer generated symbols.

In silence, Peters pushed his Apache to the limit as he weaved back and forth across the meandering creek they were following. Speed, the cover of this canyon, and a faint hope of surprise were their only allies that night. The tense warrant officer was determined to make the most of them.