Vengeance of Sukesh: John Mason (Legend of John Mason)

by Barbara J Robertson

  “Duly noted,” she said, touching his head and playing with his hair. Mason stood up even more slowly than he knelt, his hands lightly touching her thighs and wonderfully round derriere. He kissed her flat tummy and ran his hands up her body. Her eyes were twinkling and her breathing was faster. He stood right next to her, and she unzipped his uniform jacket. He removed it in one movement as she ran her hands along his chest, pulling at his white undershirt. He took it off and threw it down.

  Mason took her face in his hands and gently kissed her mouth, then her neck and shoulders. She moved her body into him, embracing him and kissing him passionately. He undid her bra and started to remove it, as a loud knock startled and interrupted them.

  “Rachel. Rachel! What are you doing in there? We’re ready to order dinner now. Victor’s hungry, Rachel. Come along now,” Caitlin demanded.

  “Admiral, I think your Momma’s calling you, ma’am,” Mason whispered in her ear, and started to laugh. She dropped her forehead on his chest and sighed heavily, then laughed a little. Mason re-hooked her bra and stepped back.

  “Coming, Momma,” she said. She was frustrated and disappointed, as was Mason; he gathered his t-shirt and jacket. He walked into his room, and he heard, “John…”

  Mason turned to look at her, and watched her take off her bra and show him her breasts, round, tight, with her nipples hard. Delicious. He smiled and bowed his head to her, and went inside his room to change. A few minutes later they were dressed and on their way downstairs to join everyone for dinner, unsatisfied and anxious.

  “Took you long enough, Rachel. We’re famished,” Caitlin said.

  “I had a call, Momma,” she lied, trying not to look at Mason, dressed in very nice, black silky street clothes. He looked gorgeous, clean-shaven, and smiling—just like he looked the last day they spent together on the Hesperia. He’s almost mine, she thought to herself. They walked on the beach after dinner, watching the late night crowd start to arrive in the clubs. After a nightcap, they all retired to their rooms.

  Mason showered and put his sweat pants on, laid down, and fell asleep. Hours later when he awoke, he saw the red flower on the pillow next to him. He tiptoed into her room and laid next to her; she smiled, and then fell asleep.

  Saturday was spent on the beach in the sun, with the Cohens and the Admiral relaxing. Mason and Victor were busy playing, and the boy displayed endless energy. They played catch, ran up and down in the sand, played with the people’s nice doggies, and got cold drinks for everyone. Since Victor was too young to swim in the ocean by himself, Mason put him on his back and went into the water, and swam with him until his Mother called them to come out.

  She applied more sunscreen to her son, and told him to stay under the umbrella for a few minutes to let it soak into his white skin. Mason was standing between their two umbrellas, and appeared to be sniffing the air. Suddenly he cried, “Squall! Let’s go inside—right now!” Mason picked up his shirt and put it on his wet body, and wrapped his towel around his hips. He picked up their umbrella and folded it, and helped the Cohens with theirs.

  “Everything’s fine. I don’t see any squall. Why are we leaving?” Caitlin asked her husband, who merely shrugged his shoulders. They all walked to their hotel and turned in their umbrellas. Finally, they could see the black line appearing over the water. Mason sent them into the restaurant, while he went upstairs to change, and get the shuttle keys to batten it down against the storm.

  He came downstairs in a hurry, and went to their shuttle. They watched him go inside and make it seal its many windows and doors to keep the coming rain out. Then he lowered it to the ground, eliminating the draft underneath the craft, now totally sealed from the storm.

  The other hotel guests were trekking in, while the approaching squall came closer and the sky blackened. “Good call on the storm, John. How is it you saw it coming before anyone else did?” David asked.

  “I didn’t see it, sir. I smelled it. Several of my senses have been bio-enhanced as a Prime Marine, you see,” Mason explained. “My eyes and ears are bionic, too. I can see in the dark.”

  “At least you got us inside before the crowd, John, else we’d be waiting for a table, as well,” Caitlin said with a smile.

  The bus boys closed the folding doors to the beach front. They battened down the floor to ceiling doors against the storm as the restaurant filled with people. It got dark quickly. The storm began with a few raindrops, then hit hard against the restaurant’s doors. But they were safe inside, and their lunches arrived soon thereafter. They heard sirens coming closer. An announcement was made over the public address system:

  “If there are any emergency personnel available, please come to the dock to render assistance. Any emergency personnel available, to the boat dock.”

  Mason, Admiral Baines and Caitlin jumped up and left Victor with his Grandfather. The harbor cruise hydrofoil was blown into the nearby boat dock, filled with terrified tourists. Admiral Baines and Caitlin reported themselves as surgical nurses to the rescue firemen, and Mason went to get people off the hydrofoil. It was a nightmarish scene, as frightened tourists jumped off the cruise boat into the roiling waters, only to be smashed against the dock or the boat. Mason dove in to rescue several people, helping them to safety.

  Harbor Rescue sent out lifeboats and rescued swimmers, as the squall slowly began to dissipate. Miraculously, no one died, but many were injured. By the third hour of the disaster, there were six fire tankers and ambulances, and the rescue chief thanked Admiral Baines and Caitlin for their invaluable first aid assistance. They went into the restaurant, where the manager told them David took Victor to his room with him. “Order whatever you’d like, ladies, and it’s on the house. Thank you for helping,” the manager said.

  Soaked from the rain and exhausted, Admiral Baines and her Mother went upstairs to clean up and change out of their wet clothes. No one knew where Mason was. After another hour elapsed, he finally came upstairs, completely soaked in salt water and spilled bio-diesel fuel. His eyes were bright red and tearing, stinging from the irritants. Admiral Baines heard him come in next door, and knocked on their adjacent doors.

  “John, my God, you look awful!” She exclaimed.

  “I’m okay, ma’am, I just need to flush my eyes and ears for a while. If you’ll excuse me, Admiral Baines,” he said, tearing off his soaked clothes and heading for the shower. He later came out, towel around his hips, holding a washcloth over his eyes.

  “Let me help you, John,” she said. “Here, sit down. Let me see your eyes.” She took the washcloth away, and looked at his red eyes and sockets. She called downstairs for an emergency eye flush kit, but they had none.

  “In the shuttle, ma’am, the first aid kits under the back seat. I think there’s a flush kit in there.” She took the shuttle’s keys and hurried downstairs. Soon, she returned with the flush kit, and helped him flush the remaining bio-diesel fuel out of his eyes. It took several flushes to finally make the burning stop.

  Mason looked up at her, and smiled. “Like old times, ma’am. You’re still patching me up.” Her wet auburn hair was pulled back. “You look for all the world like Nurse Cohen again, with your hair like that,” he said softly. She bent down and kissed him, and he reached for her, pulling her onto his lap. They kissed each other again and again. Her phone rang, and was ignored. Finally, the knock on her door came.

  “Rachel, is everything all right, honey?” Her Father asked.

  “Yes, Daddy. Just a minute,” she said, standing, and she kissed Mason once more. She opened Mason’s door, and called to her Father. “His eyes were red and burning from the spilled bio-diesel fuel. I got the first aid kit from our shuttle and flushed his eyes out several times,” she explained, as she brought David into Mason’s room.

  “Are you all right, son?” David asked, looking at the used flush kit.

  “I am now, sir,” Mason said. “Thank you, Admiral Baines. It burned like fire,” he explained. He was wearing only a tow
el, a fact her Father noticed, but said nothing about.

  “We’ll wait for you in our suite, and have some food brought up. The manager wants to buy us lunch, remember?” David said. As he turned to leave Mason’s room he silently noticed the open doors leading to his daughter’s room.

  “We’ll be there in ten minutes, Daddy,” she said. When the door closed, she stroked Mason’s face. “Daddy knows. He saw our adjoined doors open, John. He knows we’re together.”

  “He already knew. This was just a confirmation for him,” Mason explained. “At least we’re keeping up appearances, and trying to hold on for another eight weeks. And then,” he pulled her onto his lap, “Watch out!” They took time for a few kisses, then got ready.

  They met up in her parent’s suite and ate a late lunch, courtesy of the hotel, for rendering emergency assistance. Mason looked out the window at the sunny day, and the people strolling up and down the sidewalk. The emergency vehicles sealed and cordoned off the boat dock while a tugboat tried to separate the cruise hydrofoil from the dock. “A beautiful morning; four hours from hell; and a beautiful late afternoon,” Mason said. “Where’s my shuttle co-pilot?”

  Mason and Admiral Baines took Victor for his co-pilot’s lesson, along with Grandfather David. Mason brought the shuttle back to life, received the okay from the local tower for a touring flight, and they took off, slowly rising above the rooftops, as Mason flew off slowly.

  When they got clear of the houses and hotels, Mason accelerated and headed for the countryside. The scenery was lush and green, glistening from the squall’s recent rain. When they came to a large meadow, Mason said, “All right, co-pilot, come here.” Victor unbelted his strap and scooted over to Mason, who adjusted his harness to include Victor, and buckled them together.

  “Put your hands here. Like this, see? I’ll operate the pedals until you grow taller. Now, when you pull the wheel back, the shuttle rises up. When you push forward, we go down. Now repeat it, co-pilot.” Victor repeated the instructions.

  “Let’s go up a little bit, Victor.” Mason took his hands off the semicircular wheel, holding them over Victor’s hands. “That’s real good, Victor. Now turn a little starboard, then up some more.” He did it perfectly. “Now, how about we go a little lower? Push her in, easy now, that’s good.” This went on for several minutes, with Mason’s big hands ready to take over.

  “Mommy, look!” Victor let go of the wheel as a deer ran across the meadow. The shuttle dipped only a little, and Mason took the wheel.

  “Now, co-pilot, you can’t let go of the wheel like that to point at a deer. When you’re at the wheel, you must hold on, no matter what.” Mason let him try again, flying the shuttle around the meadow slowly. Victor was elated.

  “Mommy needs to learn to fly, John Mason. Can she fly, too?”

  “Don’t you know how to fly a shuttle, Admiral Baines?” Mason asked, looking at her.

  “No. I never learned to fly, John,” she answered.

  “Then, we’ll have to teach her, won’t we, Victor? Co-pilot number two, it’s your turn, now.” Mason took the wheel and unbuckled Victor. The boy moved over for his Mother.

  “I don’t need to learn to fly, Victor.” But he pleaded so much she agreed to try.

  She sat down with Mason and he buckled them in together. He showed her where to hold the wheel; how to pull it back and make it rise, and push it forward to lower it. “Forget all about the pedals now, Admiral Baines. Just concentrate on steering, and helm maneuvers.” Mason instructed her as he did Victor, but added much more detail. “Now, turn ten degrees port, and I’ll accelerate to thirty knots,” and so on.

  Mason showed her the instrumentation for speed, leveling and balance; fuel consumption; direction and velocity. She did very well. “Why don’t you take us to the cape, ma’am? You’re doing great.” And she did steer the craft back, enjoying it immensely. When they crossed over into the cape itself, Mason took over, but she remained on his lap. The shuttle landed perfectly.

  “That was really thrilling, John! Do you think I could fly again sometime?” She asked Mason, as she helped her Father climb out of the rear.

  “I’ll make sure of it, ma’am,” he replied. They went upstairs, and Victor told his Grandmother all the exciting news. Mason excused himself, and went to see the concierge. He made reservations for dinner at eight for them all at the best restaurant in town, to celebrate Admiral Baines’ promotion. He tipped the concierge, and returned to the Cohen’s suite.

  “I’ve made dinner reservations for us all at eight o’clock, to celebrate Admiral Baines’ promotion. You are all my guests at the ‘Admiral’s Inn’ tonight. I’ll meet you at 7:45 in the lobby, all right?” They were all very happy to agree, and Mason left their room.

  The hotel lobby featured plenty of clustered conversation couches and chairs. A pianist played softly in the center of the lobby on a baby grand piano, a rare treat in these modern times. The windows were opened to the ocean breeze that permeated the entire lobby, gently stirring the live trees and myriad plants in the lobby. It was absolutely delightful.

  Admiral Baines and Victor sat across from her parents, watching the other guests mingle and chat. They were dressed well for dinner, with the ladies in dresses and heels, and David and Victor in coats and ties. At precisely 7:45, Mason emerged from the lift across from them, dressed in a suit of light gray, with silvery threads. He wore a light raspberry shirt with an abstract-patterned tie of darker raspberry, black, silver, and white colors. He wore Italian black shoes and raspberry colored socks.

  “You look very GQ, John,” Caitlin said to him, admiring him. He was gorgeous.

  “Thank you. I wanted to look good to escort you, Admiral Baines,” he said to her, smiling broadly. “Shall we go?” They left and got into a taxi shuttle, heading for the restaurant.

  The Admiral’s Inn was a historic building, the actual residence of a Fleet Admiral in the late nineteenth century, and was remarkably well-maintained and glorious. It was a grand house with over twelve bedrooms for its original design. Now, it was a five-star restaurant, with seating in its former bedrooms, including the larger parlor and dining room. Each room featured a different theme and color scheme. The hotel concierge reserved “The Admiral’s Parlor,” which opened up to the dance floor.

  “It’s absolutely perfect, John! You always amaze me,” Admiral Baines cried ecstatically. She was in a teal dress with thin spaghetti straps, and a silver shawl. Mason was completely enraptured with her. She wore the platinum earrings he gave her. Caitlin was in a black cocktail dress, and David looked at her as if this was their first date, Mason mused. The man was still hopelessly in love with her, even after all their years together; just as he was hopelessly in love with their daughter.

  Mason ordered champagne, and they toasted the newest Admiral in the Space Forces. Admiral Baines was beaming.

  “We’re so proud of you, Rachel. Who knew our beautiful girl would become a Space Forces Admiral?” Caitlin said.

  “I have always been proud of my baby girl,” her Father said, tears in his eyes.

  “Thank you, Momma, Daddy. I really appreciate your joining me this weekend. And special thanks to you, John, for bringing us to the cape, and to this beautiful restaurant,” she said.

  When the sommelier heard they were celebrating her real promotion to Admiral, more champagne appeared, and kept flowing all night. They ate scallops and lobsters, and drank more champagne. After the table was cleared, David and Caitlin danced, leaving Mason and his Admiral to rub shoulders and whisper to each other. He was sitting as close to her as he could, holding her hand, yet was respectful. He was still a grunt; an officer candidate grunt, yet, sans medals. He had no right to even look upon her. He simply must graduate OCS. The Colonel might even go so far as to have him watched this weekend. It wouldn’t be the first time, he knew, someone was kicked out of OCS for conduct unbecoming an officer.

  When her parents came back to the table, she asked Mason to dance
with her. They danced together only once before, at the big Admirals dinner after the Hesperia docked and their mission ended, over three years ago. Mason took her hand, and danced her all over the dance floor, the two of them never missing a step; they danced like a professional dance couple. They only had eyes for each other.

  “They look like they’ve been dancing together all their days, don’t they?” David said. “They’re a beautiful couple, that’s for sure.” His wife agreed.

  After everyone returned to their hotel, Rachel put Victor to bed, and then crossed into Mason’s room. “The evening was perfect, John. I’ve never experienced a better dinner anywhere. Thank you so very much,” she said.

  “I wanted you to be pleased, ma’am,” Mason said. She was so beautiful.

  “You have gone out of your way to please me this entire weekend, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” she said, putting her arms around his neck. “You looked so handsome tonight, John. I was proud to be the woman who had your arm,” she softly said.

  “You have much more than my arm, ma’am,” Mason said, and bent down to kiss her. She gave him a kiss that revealed her feelings; not only her desire for him, but much more. They were locked in the perfect kiss, neither of them wanting to let go. But they had to stop, even though every cell in their bodies craved satisfaction tonight. They let go of each other, and she went into her room, closing the door a little.

  Mason took off his suit and shoes and packed them, finished undressing and put on his gym shorts. He packed both suitcases, the one for Admiral Baines to take home for him, and the one with the singular outfit for his return to Quantico tomorrow. He got ready for bed and turned out the lights, and left his door open if she wanted to sleep next to him. It would be a long night of dreaming for him; eight more weeks. What would it be like for her?

  IX

  The next eight weeks of Officer Candidate School were very different for Mason than his first eight weeks. The drill sergeant did not insult him; he even asked for Mason’s help training for the elaborate parade march assigned for the graduation ceremony. The martial arts instructor used Mason as his “demo dummy” for the first eight weeks, hitting and kicking him without permitting Mason to defend himself. Now, he split the classes into two halves, and Mason taught one of them.