The Guns Above by Robyn Bennis
Now, if I went on acknowledging everyone who made this book possible, it would seem that I only did a tiny fraction of the total work. This hews a little too close to the truth for my comfort, so I’m going to cut these acknowledgments short. But if you don’t see your name here, I’d like to thank you twice: once for your contribution, and again for your anonymity, through which you preserve the illusion that novel writing is a solitary affair.
She had no memory of her escape from the stricken ship, but she must have gotten out somehow. If she were still inside, she would be on fire, and she was reasonably convinced that this was not the case.
"Well, I expect you’ll manage," the general said. "The ship’s Mistral. It’s a new design." Josette’s enthusiasm was momentarily checked, for the general had said the two words every airman dreaded: "new design." Army flight engineers were forever searching for new and more efficient ways to get airmen killed. When they’d collected enough of them, they put them together in a devious package called a "new design." But she took heart. At least he hadn’t said "revolutionary new design." After a sip of tea, the general went on. "My advisors tell me that it’s quite revolutionary."
"I … I’m sorry," Bernat said. "For what?" She gave him an approving nod. "You did well, Bernie. As Captain Emery said, you gave us a chance." A wave of relief seemed to pass through him. "So, you’re not going to throw me overboard?" "Oh, I’m certainly going to throw you overboard," she said, "but on your way down, I want you to know that you have my admiration." He smiled, put his hand over his heart, and said, "I will hit the ground a contented man."