Bought His Life

by Aleka Nakis Tia Fanning

  The majority of the mermaids in the tropical mural were males, and the alcohol served in the rowdy patio area overpowered the floral smell in the hotel. A man with a grass skirt wrapped around his waist walked in holding a tall hourglass-shaped goblet filled with a blue liquid and topped by a paper umbrella.

  “Hi, you must be Lawson’s friend.”

  Extending his hand, Jack cleared his throat. “Good evening. I’m Captain Jack Carter.”

  “Well, I’m Michiel, and damned if I’d miss a cruise on your boat.”

  Jack retrieved his hand and stuffed it in his pocket. “Actually, I’m a pilot.”

  “Ooh, the mile high club sounds interesting,” cooed Michiel.

  Scratching his head, Jack confirmed the flamboyant man’s view. “It is. Has Lawson secured a room for us?”

  Michiel smiled and swatted the empty air in front of him. With one long finger, he invited Jack to follow him to the desk. “You’re on the pool side, off of US1. Room thirteen, down the hall on your right.”

  Jack took the card with the picture of a lime-green dolphin and flipped it in his fingers.

  Michiel pointed to the arrow on the card. “Stick it in the door slot this way.”

  “Got it. Thank you.” He turned and walked in the direction the clerk indicated.

  “Yoo-hoo, Jack.” Michiel came up behind him. “We’re having a little get-together by the pool. Come out for a drink.”

  Reaching for his watch, Jack cursed under his breath when he didn’t find it, and Michiel took a step back at his reaction.

  “Sorry,” Jack said. “I’m just annoyed at having lost my watch.”

  “Oh, yeah. From those guys robbing you earlier. It’s sad there are people out there preying on good folks. You guys seem nice. Too nice.”

  “It takes all kinds,” Jack said. “I’m too awake to sleep, so I’ll come by for a beer after I clean up.”

  “Good. The guys will love to speak with a pilot. I think Jared was in the Air Force when he was younger.”

  “The United States Air Force?”

  “Yeah, you know the part of the military flying those planes over our heads.” Michiel stopped walking and pointed to a door. “Well, here you are. Room thirteen. Catch you later.”

  United States Air Force? Interesting. Women walking home alone on a dark night. Hell, men in grass skirts yoo-hooing down the hall. Jack wondered what he’d see or hear next.

  He fumbled with the card until a tiny light glowed green and a click sounded. He moved the lever, and the lock gave way. Opening the door, Jack saw Lawson sprawled on a bed with two pillows over his head and the television blaring in the background. He wondered why Lawson hadn’t asked for a room with two bunks. This room had a bed the size of the Sahara.

  “It wouldn’t be bad if Emily was snuggling up in one. But there is no way I’m sleeping with you. You can have the floor.”

  Popping his head from under a pillow, Lawson laughed. “No need. I have another room. I came by for a quick briefing and to see what you have on Jones.”

  A man, one of his men, hadn’t made it to the beach, Jack sobered and immediately considered the possibility they’d never find him. “I have nothing on Jones. I asked around in the diner, but nobody knew about him. Any news at the base?”

  “No, sir.” Lawson sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “The base is no longer here. But Jones is a stronger swimmer than either one of us. He’ll show. He can’t walk forever. Plus, he knows where the lieutenant’s house was.”

  “The lieutenant—admiral—is gone. He can’t help us.” Jack pulled a wooden chair from the table by the mirror, turned it around and straddled the seat. “You get anywhere with your target?”

  “Kimber is a very interesting woman.” Lawson stood and reached for a fedora on the nightstand. “If there is nothing to discuss on Jones tonight, I’d like to get back to her. She doesn’t know I left.”

  “Stick around, Grey.”

  “I don’t want her to be alone… It’s a peculiar situation.”

  “Just for a few minutes. There’s food involved.” Jack tossed a bag of burgers at the other man and started to review the day’s findings.

  Once they’d discussed how the world had changed and how they needed to adjust their speech habits to blend in, Jack asked again about the base.

  “Everything’s changed. The base closed years ago. There are new agencies in the government and power is distributed accordingly. I’ll need a few days to see whom we can trust with our story. According to the all-knowing Internet, time travel is still fantasy.”

  “Understood. Stay focused. We need to notify our superiors that time travel is possible, just not in the way they’d believed.” Jack peeled off his T-shirt and headed to the lavatory. “I trust you’ll locate the appropriate resources.”

  Failure was a foreign concept to Jack, and he was not a gracious loser. Thinking of the alternative to their landing alive, even if they’d jumped into a place and time they hadn’t set out for, Jack nodded and resolved to take things slow. Regardless how huge a challenge it would be, he must concentrate on his and Lawson’s good fortune to be alive.

  “Thanks, Captain,” Grey called.

  Jack lifted his hand over his head and stepped into the claustrophobic space of the adjoining bathroom. The quiet grated on his nerves, and his control slipped as the reality of the situation materialized in the solitude of the tiny room. He wasn’t able to kid himself when he faced the truth in his head. Anger pulsed through him as the similarities of the cramped space and the bunkers, bunkers in which trainloads of Jews were rumored to be housed in while tortured, formed in his mind. “What the hell is this?”

  “Jack?” Grey rushed to his captain’s side.

  “There’s a toilet, a sink, a prissy shell mirror thing and this! Someone playing a joke on us?” The blood pulsed through his temples, and Jack turned to glare at the OSS Agent.

  “Huh?” was all the other man said.

  “They had to make this so ugly and bare. Why not a curtain, or even a colored wall? Couldn’t they sacrifice the space and put the tub in this place?”

  Grey shrugged and raised his hands, palms up, at his sides. “Jack, it’s not a big deal.”

  “Perhaps not to someone who hasn’t been to Europe, who hasn’t spoken with Russian infantrymen, who hasn’t flown spotter missions for the Royal Air Force. I have. The stench still fills my senses. Do you know how many men lost their breakfast in those cockpits?”

  Grey lowered his eyes, realization of why Jack was upset dawning on his face.

  “That’s why I volunteered for this damn mission. To prevent the horrific crimes against humanity. Simply inhumane.”

  “And insane,” Grey added. “I’ve done some reading, and it appears that time has numbed the emotions, but people haven’t forgotten.”

  Jack slammed his fist against the stall. “I’m not mad about the damn shower. I’m angry we didn’t go back and kill the bastard. Save those people. I learned a bit about things that happened during the war that the government originally had refused to recognize. They were true.” Jack swallowed hard. “I failed the country. I failed the human race.”

  “Captain,” the agent said in a steady voice. “It was out of your control. We rolled the dice with this mission. Never proved the theory before we attempted it. All of us knew we were signing our death certificates when we agreed to go.”

  Jack walked past Grey and shook his head. “We’ve missed a lifetime, but we’re not dead.” He sat at the foot of the bed. “Now what do we do?”

  Breaking the silence hanging over the two men for what seemed like hours, Jack spoke in a low voice. “I met this kid today. Rick Levine. His grandmother was a little girl in Poland during the war. My God, Lawson. He told me some horrifying things.”

  “I know. I did some research myself.” Grey stood and retrieved a pile of papers. Smacking three humungous newspapers beside the stack, he pulled a chair to where the captain sat an
d handed Jack a cola. They discussed the events that had occurred over the past seven decades. It was well after midnight when Jack realized he wanted that beer.

  “Imagine. Man has walked on the moon.”

  Grey nodded. “Nowadays, there is even an agency called NASA, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, and they’ve forged ahead with space travel and exploration.”

  “Amazing.” Jack smiled, recalling Emily’s earlier comment. It all made sense now, and the woman had no idea how close to the truth she was. He’d need to be more careful. He stood and stretched his legs. “I think I’ll take that shower now. Then I’ll go for a beer.”

  “Since you have my report, I’m going back to Kimber.”

  “I’m working at Emy’s Place for breakfast,” Jack confirmed and returned to the bathroom. “Good night, Grey.”

  Closing the door, he found he was much calmer. History may have taken care of itself, but he still had an obligation to return the watch Emily had to its rightful owner—assuming he was still alive. If not, Jack needed to get the watch to the man’s surviving family. First thing in the morning, he’d ask if he could buy it from her.

  * * * *

  Three men held microphones and crooned something about surviving while telling the object of their song to walk away.

  Jack looked behind him to see whom the group on the stage was waving their index fingers at.

  Nobody.

  They were just having a good time singing what he assumed to be a popular song. It actually had a rather catchy beat.

  Scanning the patio, he determined this was the strangest gathering he’d ever seen. There was only one tall brunette on the stage, and the rest of the partygoers were male. He needed to find the Air Force man and learn what was going on.

  “Yoo-hoo, Jack.” Michiel waved to him from the bar. “Come on over, Captain.”

  “Captain?” The man with hair sticking straight up from his scalp raised his eyebrows and flashed gold teeth.

  “Sugar, Jack is the best pilot on this Key. But don’t overwhelm him. I think he’s still shy about opening the closet.”

  Jack cleared his throat. “I’ve never been described as shy, Michiel. And the closet in the room was working fine.”

  “I just meant you’re not very…” Michelle rolled his hands. “How can I put this? Hm. You don’t exhibit your homosexuality freely.”

  The comment finally opened Jack’s eyes. It took a moment for the homosexual reference in the conversation to register. During his day, things might have been hidden in the closet and homosexuals shunned. Today, with so many things changed and free, it was obviously a regular part of society. If only his cousin, Bill, had been born in this era, then he wouldn’t have spent his life depressed and alone.

  Jack pounded Michiel on the back, laughing as if they were old friends. “That’s because I like women. Tall, short, skinny, curvy and all types of people who have a different anatomical structure than I do. When I sleep with a partner, I like waking up with a female scent wrapped around me.”

  “You mean you’re straight?” Michiel’s eyes grew big with surprise. “You’re too pre— I mean, you’re too handsome to be straight. Plus, you’re so well-mannered.”

  “Straight?”

  “You know, straight. Like, you’re attracted to women?”

  “Damn right, I’m straight. Is there a problem with my sexual preference?”

  The two men on the bar stools leaned closer and whispered. “No, we don’t mind. But you do know this is a gay party?”

  “Gay?”

  “Homosexual,” Michiel clarified.

  Jack matched their stance and lowered his voice. “Now who’s shy about… how’d you put it… opening the closet door?”

  Smiling, Michiel straightened. “What are you drinking, Captain?”

  “A beer,” he said, nodding to the bartender.

  “Just a plain beer, sweetie?”

  “Call me Jack or Captain, and we won’t have a problem,” Jack said to the man with spikes for hair.

  “I hear you, Captain.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lawson woke up at six and looked at the woman who had slept through the night like she hadn’t slept in ages. She hadn’t noticed that he’d left for the briefing with Jack, but when he’d returned, she snuggled up against him like a kitten, waking only to make love again.

  He hated leaving the slumbering beauty in his arms, but wanted to get his envelope and talk to Jack before she awoke.

  After getting dressed, he grabbed the keys to the Mustang and the gun off the clothing chest. His gaze roamed over Kimber. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful, but he wondered what to do next. Should he tell her the truth about his past? And would she believe him? Would he lose her because of it?

  He also had questions he wanted to ask, things he didn’t get around to last night for fear of upsetting her further. Who was after her and why?

  As much as he wanted to know, he decided to let her sleep.

  He left the hotel room and went to the lobby. Behind the desk sat a very tired, very hung-over Michiel, rubbing his temples.

  “Michiel, you doing all right?”

  Michiel looked up and smiled, then groaned as if smiling made his head ache. “Oh, hey, Lawson. Yeah, I’m okay. I guess I had too much fun. And you?”

  Lawson thought about how he’d made love to Kimber and had lost himself in her, the urgency of his situation temporarily subsiding in her arms. “It was good. I was wondering, though, I need to find more clothes, but not the same as these, perhaps a bit lower in price.”

  “If you’re not choosy about hand-me-downs, there’s some shirts and pants in my apartment out back that you and your friend can have.”

  He gazed at the tight blue sleeveless shirt the clerk was wearing and raised his eyebrows.

  “They’re not mine,” Michiel said in a strained voice, then winced. “They belonged to an ex. He dressed a little too conservatively for my tastes, but you’ll like his style. There’s a box in my closet with the name ‘Blake’ on it. Take the whole damn thing. He was a penis anyways.”

  Lawson headed toward the rear exit. “Thanks, and I hope you feel better.”

  Outside, he went to the car and grabbed the envelope. He took a deep breath and retrieved his key. Securing it around his neck, he glanced through the documents in the packet, noting that it contained his and the crew’s personal papers.

  He was about to close the door when he saw Kimber’s large purse on the backseat, the contents scattered on the floor. Remembering that he had thrown the purse at her the previous evening, he leaned in and began putting the stuff back into her bag, knowing she’d probably want it when she woke up.

  Hairbrush, toothbrush, deodorant, mirror, powder, phone, cigarettes, lighter… handcuffs?

  Something shiny on the floor caught his eye. He dropped the handcuffs into the purse and reached for the golden object attached to a black leather case. He ran his finger over the circular star with an eagle perched on top. It was a badge.

  “Drug Enforcement Administration, US Special Agent.”

  His heart beat rapidly as he threw the badge case into her purse. Her badge had to be part of the reason for the two Spanish-speaking gangsters waiting for her outside the Bearded Cockle last night. If he hadn’t followed her there, she’d probably be at the bottom of the ocean with a couple of cinder blocks chained to her ankles.

  He finished returning all her belongings to the gigantic bag she called a purse, well, except for one item—her wallet. He opened it hesitantly. He was invading her privacy, and that didn’t sit well with him, but he wanted to know more about the woman who had gotten under his skin.

  He glanced through the pictures, stopping when he saw one of a young Kimber in a beige military uniform, her arm around a man wearing the same. Both wore helmets and had rifles slung around their shoulders. What drew his attention the most was the smile on her face. She looked so young, so innocent, so happy. He took the p
icture out of its holder and turned it over.

  “Kimber and Scott. Camp Doha, Kuwait. 2002.”

  He imagined modern wars being more dangerous than the one he’d experienced, and the idea of his woman running around the desert shooting bad guys as bombs exploded around her made his gut tighten. He grimaced. Why did she insist on having jobs that involved risking her life?

  He stuffed the photo back into its holder. He’d see to it Kimber quit her job today and left Marathon with him as soon as possible. Once he got his retirement money out of Zurich, he would take her to a place where the Cosa Nostra and the US government would never find her.

  The only thing left out of sorts was a folder. He didn’t remember it being in the car before. Did she have it in her purse, too? He glanced through it and exhaled, shaking his head.

  Kimber thought their return to the present had been a drug run gone bad. She didn’t know it was him she was investigating. While he was searching her out, she’d been doing the same to him.

  After placing the folder in the purse, along with his envelope, Lawson went to Michiel’s apartment and retrieved the box of clothes. Then he entered room thirteen to find Jack still there.

  “Lawson, what the hell happened to you last night?” Jack demanded as he took the box and put it on the bed. “Why did you need to get back to the woman?”

  “Long story, Captain.” He took the envelope out of Kimber’s purse and put it on the dresser. “Either way, my mission’s complete. I got my key back, and here are our personnel documents. The watch and notebook are still missing.”

  “And the box?”

  “It contains clothes we can use.”

  Jack walked up to him and squinted. “Did you get the shit kicked out of you?” he asked, astounded.

  Lawson imagined the area around his eye was bruised by now and probably looked pretty bad. “Another long story.”

  “Well, I’m heading to work,” Jack said. “Walk me there and tell me about it. This has to be good.”

  “All right. Just let me drop Kimber’s purse in her room.” He took the folder out and handed it to Jack. “But before we go, you might want to read this.”