In the Blink of An Eye

by Jerry Baggett

  About the author

  Jerry Baggett is a long-time Los Angeles businessman, Southern California yachtsman and author. Jerry grew up on Cape Hatteras Island, North Carolina and the Gulf Coast of Alabama where he developed a love for the sea. After graduating from the University of Alabama, he found his way to Los Angeles where he has spent the last forty years, splitting his time between various business interests and his love for cruising and diving the ever-fascinating barrier islands of Southern California with his family. Jerry has been a member of the Pacific Corinthian Yacht Club for many years.

  In the Blink of An Eye

  Jerry Baggett

  In the Blink of An Eye

  Vanguard Press

  VANGUARD KINDLE

  © Copyright 2021

  Jerry Baggett

  The right of Jerry Baggett to be identified as author of

  this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the

  Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All Rights Reserved

  No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication

  may be made without written permission.

  No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced,

  copied or transmitted save with the written permission of the publisher, or in accordance with the provisions

  of the Copyright Act 1956 (as amended).

  Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to

  this publication may be liable to criminal

  prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is

  available from the British Library.

  ISBN 978-1-80016-065-1

  Vanguard Press is an imprint of

  Pegasus Elliot MacKenzie Publishers Ltd.

  www.pegasuspublishers.com

  First Published in 2021

  Vanguard Press

  Sheraton House Castle Park

  Cambridge England

  Dedication

  To love, honor and country.

  Religious controversies are always productive of more acrimony and irreconcilable hatreds than those which spring from any other cause.

  George Washington

  Author’s note

  This book is a work of fiction and does not represent an accurate history of any particular family or person, living or dead. The author’s great grandfather was seriously wounded during the battle of Brandy Creek on June 9th, 1863, serving in the 9th Regimental Cavalry, 1st North Carolina Militia. His direct descendants claimed the family fortune had been buried by his father-in-law who died with his man servant as a result of fighting around Charlottesville, Virginia. All other aspects of the story are derived from the author’s imagination. We hope you have enjoyed our story.

  Jerry Baggett

  Prologue

  June 9th, 1863. Brandy Creek, Pennsylvania. Headquarters, 1st North Carolina Militia, 9th Regimental Cavalry

  “Captain McGowin reporting for duty, as ordered, sir.” He stood rigid until the major acknowledged his presence.

  “You are the son of Colonel John C. McGowin, are you?”

  “Yes, sir, proud to serve the regiment, sir.”

  “We can forget further formalities, Captain. We’re still involved in the heaviest cavalry engagement of the war. Your father, the colonel, ordered a cavalry charge at first light near Bull Run. He went in with his men.” The major looked the captain over carefully before making eye contact. “He’s down with his horse, severely injured in a wash, down near the water. You may not be in time for a final goodbye, Captain, if you don’t hurry on out. I don’t recommend you go down there. The big fight still rages just across the river from where the colonel went down. If you do go, be alert, the area where he’s down is still under heavy bombardment from Union forces, so, consider your options carefully.”

  The major nodded to his left. “Private Mayer, here, will escort you into the battle zone. Good luck, Captain.” He touched two fingers to his forehead. He held them there for long moments and watched the young captain walk away.

  Private Mayer held his hand up. “We can’t go no farther, Captain, they’s still sniping from that trench to the right there and them cannon shells are landing between us here, and the colonel. That’s him in that little draw there, near the water. The general thinks he’s dead. Rescue efforts were called off after a cannon ball exploded darn near on top of him.”

  “I can’t leave my father out there with the rest of the dead men. There are dead horses bloating up. I want you to shoot any son of a bitch that sticks his head up to take a shot at me. I’m going to run out to see about the colonel. You got that?”

  “Yes, sir, but just me shootin’ ain’t goin’ to save your life out there, Captain. Our boys done chased the yanks across the bridge.”

  “The colonel may be alive. I plan on grabbing him and dragging him, or his body, into the water. We’ll drift along with the current. If I make it, round up more help and look for me downstream.”

  “I’ll do what I can, Captain. I sure hope you make it.”

  McGowin crawled within ten feet of the colonel. He felt the first ball tear through his left leg above the knee, a second removed part of his ear. Momentum carried him head first into the crater with the colonel. He placed his body over his father, his cheek against his father’s cheek. He hoped he would feel body heat. I love you, Dad.

  His father’s faded grey eyes opened wide, then closed to narrow slits. “You shouldn’t be here, son.” The older man struggled for breath. “Listen to me. It’s important. Before we left home. Joseph, you remember him, my manservant. That’s Joseph over there near the stream, bless him. We gathered all the family gold and silver, along with other valuables and buried them before Sherman could get there. We didn’t tell the womenfolk where we buried the stuff so the Yankees wouldn’t have reason to give them trouble. An old trunk, about two feet… Under, ah…” He exhaled once.

  Johnny felt his father gasp and relax in his arms. He’d been too late for the message but he would complete his mission. He felt another ball tear through the same leg. With difficulty, he dragged his father’s body into the stream.

  Chapter 1

  Shit. He hadn’t expected that. Extreme vibration. An explosion in the engine. He tried the circuit breakers, no radio. Twenty-five thousand feet. Too high, too fast to punch out. Rather loose speed, get down some! He’d been thinking about his plans for the future, his hopes and dreams. It could all be gone, now. In the blink of an eye.

  Navy Lieutenant Commander, Dick McGowin, felt the plane spiral toward the sea. He fought to reach the ejection lever. Momentum slammed him against the cockpit. Hanging in his chute, at nine thousand feet, he oriented himself with the coastline. An island he knew to be Catalina; a favorite getaway for generations of Southern Californians.

  Not much beach, no rental cottages, only diehard boaters and fishermen, this side of the island. He could see a sunbather burning fat on the deck of a small sailboat, taking advantage of the late afternoon sun.

  The good Lord loves me, after all. Oh well, it could have been a hell of a lot worse. He could have punched out from an F-18 Super Hornet, at much higher speed, instead of the over-used, under-maintained jet trainer he’d checked out for his flight from NAS Miramar to a conference at Edwards. All electrical systems went dark with an engine shut down. Not his first episode after ten years of flying high-performance fighter aircraft.

  He managed to drag himself into the small raft from the ejection package, his left arm in severe pain. He thought he might have a fracture near the shoulder. He shaded his eyes with his hand to stare at the rough terrain. Oh yeah, close to Cat Harbor, near the rugged and isolated west end of the
island. He had dived and fished the area as a young man, with his father. He knew he’d be able to walk across the island to Isthmus Cove for assistance. He’d simply locate a telephone and call in his position.

  A light prevailing wind had helped him avoid the rough water and jagged rocks of the shore line. He saw only a few boats moored in the small harbor. He managed to guide the boat into the calm water with one arm. Wind and tide carried him on in the right direction, against an occupied boat. His effort wasn’t unnoticed by the person lying on deck, holding a book. He’d been preoccupied with control of his own vessel, not seeing her reaching out over the gunnel to assist, until her call. “Hi, big guy. You look like you could use some help with your boat.”

  Dick looked up into the most gorgeous green eyes he’d ever seen. “Thanks. This beast’s difficult to handle with one arm.”

  “Pass the line to me. I’ll tie it off until we figure things out. I’ve been watching, with binoculars. I saw you drifting down. At first, I thought you were parasailing. Then I saw your parachute.” She smiled. “You’ve been fighting that thing for nearly an hour. Where the heck did you come from, an airplane? Perhaps, you intended to land at the airport and drifted away? I hope you’re not a military deserter or something.”

  He laughed and wiped sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his good arm. “I’ll tie up long enough to catch my breath. A cool glass of water would be nice, if you don’t mind.” He looked around and pointed before turning back. “My plane went into the water just over the mountain there. I’m not surprised no one saw the splash, no smoke or fire. I thought I’d never make it around the point, into calmer water.”

  “My name’s Samantha, call me Sam. What’s wrong with your arm?”

  “Got careless on my bailout. Perhaps a fracture, up near the shoulder. Could you direct me to a telephone and medical assistance?”

  She turned and nodded. “Let’s tie this thing off at the transom. You can come aboard. Use my phone while I check out that arm. I’m a nurse. I work with a doctor, at the other end of the island. That would be Avalon.”

  Samantha moved his arm around carefully. “Big boys don’t cry, after all. It’s a large bruise. There could be some damage to the shoulder. Expect pain for a while.”

  She arranged a sling to relieve some of the pain. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Most of my patients with this type of injury have been high school football players. They sometimes arrive with tears in their eyes.” She laughed. “So, you’re in the navy and probably fly off aircraft carriers. That’s why you handle a crash in the ocean like a walk in the park.”

  Dick punched in a number and placed the phone on the table. “Hi, Amy. This is Lt. Commander McGowin. Is Captain Alder available?”

  “Oh, hi, Dick. It’s the weekend, you know. He’s in the yard, practicing his putting. I’ll call him in.”

  “What’s up Dick? I thought you’d be in the air by now.”

  “Got a problem, Captain. I had to ditch in the pacific, near the isolated west end of Catalina Island. I thought it best to call you before reporting into the duty officer at San Diego. A flame out. All electrical systems shut down. I punched out at nine thousand and paddled ashore on the island. Any advice before I call it in?”

  “I told you those planes were scheduled for recycling soon, you shoulda listened. What time did you go down?”

  “Around 1640 hours, Daryl. That was the only plane available on short notice. I should have cancelled my seat at the conference.”

  “Are you OK, no injuries, after the bailout?”

  “A left shoulder problem of some kind. Nothing serious, maybe a bruise. I’m being treated by a private doctor’s assistant. Do you need to talk with her?”

  “No, just put everything into your report. Everything from the time you took off until leaving the doctor. I’ll cancel your reservation at the conference, report the loss of the aircraft, and get the paperwork started. Will you need a ride home?”

  “The island is very much out of the way. I prefer to take my time and thank everyone here, before making my own reservations back to the base. I’ll pick up a new phone and be in touch. Don’t expect me to be back on base before Monday.”

  Dick put the phone down and focused his attention on Samantha. “I fly with the eagles by day and hoot with the owls at night. More or less, an excitement junky. How about you, Sam, do you sometimes let your hair down and spend an evening running with the wolves? You seem to be alone out here on your boat. This beautiful vessel must be your hideaway.”

  She studied his sun-bronzed face. “I’m certainly not a ‘run with the wolves’ type. And you’re obviously the attractive, charming type of man my mother warned me about. Besides that, you’re probably a married man, with a family.” She crossed her arms and stared at him. “I may look lonely, like an easy mark for arrogant fighter pilots, but I have a wonderful man in my very good life.”

  “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Sam, it’s my aggressive nature to cut through the chaff. You’re very attractive, the very same beauty that broke my heart in college. I’m grateful for your kindness. Please don’t let my jaundice ruin your day.”

  This could not be happening, he thought. She’s gorgeous. It’d been a long time since he’d met someone like her.

  They sat in the galley and talked. She told him about the island community, transportation he would need to the airport, some small talk. He stood, the warm spell broken, and asked about a place he might stay the night. She mentioned a small hotel across the island. He sensed a magnetism between them in spite of the earlier irritation.

  “I have to pick up a new cell phone as quickly as possible, any ideas?”

  She started to answer, then said, “There’s nothing open before early tomorrow in Avalon. Costco, on the mainland, would be your best deal.”

  His arm ached. He reached around and rubbed the tender area softly. “Let me buy your dinner. That’s the least I can do, then maybe you can drop me off at that small hotel you mentioned. I can figure things out from there.”

  She looked at him, then hesitated. “I could fix something here, if you’d like? Of course, it wouldn’t be much.”

  He turned, opened her small refrigerator door and smiled. “I can’t eat up what little you have here. That would add injury to the insult. Give me a couple of aspirin and let’s go ashore and find a place for a beer and good meal.”

  “There’s only one place to eat or drink at this end of the island – Doug’s Harbor Reef. We can dingy into the dock and take a short walk across the island to Isthmus Cove. There’s a shuttle from there to Avalon. That’s where you’ll want to catch a boat to Marina Del Rey, the closest point to Los Angeles International Airport.

  Dick was impressed with the island atmosphere. He hadn’t been there in many years. The open-air bar had music. It was crowded. He looked out over the busy harbor. There were boats moored, some anchored, all types. The seafood has to be good, he thought.

  She led the way past the bar, into the restaurant. The crowd was noisy, with people eating, drinking and couples in conversation. “Table for two, Sam?” asked the hostess.

  “Please, Mary.” She caught Dick staring at the food being served at the bar. “Ah ha, the sky warrior is hungry.”

  “A beer or glass of wine would do just fine for starters. How about you, perhaps a wine?”

  “They have a light German beer that’s light but good. Please don’t place me in the same box as your other women acquaintances, Dick.”

  He blinked. “I would never underestimate you, Sam. Somehow, I bring out the prickly pear in you, and I’m fascinated. Please give me an opportunity to know you better, and you, me.” He wondered if she was just touchy by nature or if he was throwing off the wrong vibes.

  After a second beer, they ordered their meal and the strain between them dropped away, replaced with pleasant conversation. She told him about the doctor she worked with and life in Avalon. She spoke softly, barely loud enough for him to hear her
words in the noisy crowd. Doctor Steven Peyton took over the clinic where she’d worked the last five years. They had become emotionally involved just last year. Her eyes bore into his, then moved to different features of his face, before continuing. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. It’s not like me to discuss my personal life with a strange man, or anyone else, for that matter. He’s a good man. He left a big practice in Long Beach to raise his two small children here. I’ve grown to care for all of them. I like my life here on this little island.”

  The meal was over and Dick ordered a glass of cabernet, for each. She nodded. “There’s something important happening here, Samantha, and I don’t want to let it go easily. It’s also important to me that I not create problems in your very good life. You might say, my life’s just maturing. My priorities are changing. I’m reverting to reserve status with the navy next month, and entering training with American Airlines. There’s a certain amount of insecurity with that.” He picked up his glass and reached out. “To a very special person; you, Sam.”

  She tipped her glass in his direction. “Thank you, Dick.”

  He said, “I should get to that hotel for a thorough clean-up. This flight suit dried out some, paddling in. It may stand alone with all that salt from the ocean.”

  “I’m sorry, Dick. You didn’t appear to be wet when you came aboard. You can clean up on board Ipswich. She held his gaze for several moments. “I’m not afraid of the big bad wolf any longer. You’re welcome to sleep aboard. I’ll help you arrange for the boat to the mainland in the morning. I have to be back in Avalon by eleven, setting sail early. We’re both adults, aren’t we? You can grab the shuttle boat from there to Marina Del Rey, and a cab from there to the airport.”