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

by Barbara J Robertson

  “Just before noon.” He put his hand on her thigh. “You were really amazing last night.”

  She blushed a deep red. “My Samba Master inspired me. For some reason, it’s a little difficult walking,” she admitted, with an upside-down smile. “Must have been all the samba.” He held her hand tenderly.

  Mason showed her Colonel Tyrone’s response to his inquiry about a possible Colony IV on Mars. “TS 3 means Top Secret, clearance level three, John. That’s my level, and I don’t know anything about it. Very curious…” she trailed off, in thought.

  “I wonder where my mission will be after the fighter training next week. The Commandant wouldn’t say where I was going,” he reminded her.

  “I’m not sure I like you being sent away from me too often or too long, John,” she confessed, and kissed him.

  “Me either, but I’ll have to move up the food chain before I can have much say over which assignments I have handed to me, Rachel. You know how it is. I’ll do my very best. I know Admiral Worthington and the Commandant don’t attend every graduation,” Mason said, and took her hand. “I promise to do my best, and move up as quickly as I can, Rachel. I want to be with you always,” he softly said.

  They sat in silence for a few more minutes, and then she went to get cleaned up. Mason decided he’d pop the Big Question tonight before their reservations for the fine dining restaurant at eight. Mason checked out his growing goatee. Rachel could make any man’s beard grow twice as fast, he thought to himself, laughing.

  Panama City was farther away, but the shopping was better. They took their time shopping, bought a souvenir or three for Victor, and she called him.

  “When you coming home, Mommy? You’ve been gone a long time,” her young son asked, and began to cry. She tried to soothe him, and told him she’d return in a couple of days; but it became clear the call bothered her.

  “I’ve never been separated from him this long, John,” she explained. “Time is different for children. A child doesn’t understand.” She finished shopping after that call. They rode back to San Jose, found a restaurant and went in for lunch. Mason noticed things seemed to all go downhill after her call to Victor. The meal was mediocre, and the service less than desirable. The waitresses wore halter tops and wrapped skirts, slit to their hips to show a lot of leg.

  Mason was paying their check when their waitress with her big boob job leaned down to show her big tits to Mason. He pulled his head back, but Rachel saw her stick them in his face, when she walked from the ladies room. “We didn’t drink any wine. You charged us for two glasses we didn’t drink,” Mason complained to her.

  “I’ll get it taken care of right away, sir.” She returned with his check, adjusted by hand, not a new receipt. “Here’s the new total. Just call me if you need anything. Anything at all for you, sir.” He was unhappy, and shoved the receipt into his wallet, and they left. Rachel didn’t want to shop anymore, so Mason took them back to the hotel. He tossed his wallet and slices on the big table, not noticing the restaurant check sticking out of his wallet a little ways, but she did.

  “Would you like to go to the pool?” He asked her. She only wanted a nap. “I made dinner reservations for eight o’clock, okay?” She nodded. “Think I’ll go for a run now, Rachel.”

  “Go ahead,” she said in a strange voice. She watched him run down the hotel driveway. Was he going to meet that waitress? She saw her stick her big breasts in his face. Rachel walked over to the table where his wallet lay, and noticed the yellow lunch check sticking out, numbers clearly written on the bottom. Her comm link number, probably. Rachel felt the jealousy rise in her, and tried to subdue those emotions.

  Mason’s comm link beeped. She went over to hit “Ignore,” and saw ‘Kira’ on the face. Now, who was Kira? Was she that slutty waitress? She was getting upset. She gave John all her love, attention and energy these past few days, and abandoned her own son. She was racked with guilt. Victor was only three years old, and she had abandoned him. Why didn’t she bring Victor with her?

  She realized why not – John wanted her all to himself, so he could play “Samba Master.” Rachel blushed remembering how she behaved last night, teasing him, taking him behind a shed and performing oral sex. She had never done that before. And those couples at the waterfall. She felt debased and dirty. She wanted to go home to Victor. The comm link beeped again, and she became furious. Was John going to that waitress?

  If all John wanted was sex and more sex, she had given him all he would get. He was probably with that waitress now. Rachel’s emotions quickly rose; she became caught in the grasp of jealousy and its rage. Her jealousy was a trait she inherited from her Mother Caitlin, the fiery red head. Despite her great intellect and charming personality, Rachel had a wide jealous streak. And it was not without some measure of justification. Every man she had ever been in a relationship with cheated on her, except Victor Baines. And now, John was cheating on her; she was sure of it.

  Mason’s comm link beeped again, from “Kira.” She threw it across the room, and began to cry. She was fuming at John for leaving her to go to that slutty waitress. Rachel was especially angry at herself for leaving her son so long. She pulled her suitcase out of the closet and packed all her things. Rachel called the concierge for the transport schedule; one for Dallas left at 2:15a.m., close enough for her. Tomorrow morning she would be home. She put the packed suitcase by the dresser, and sat on the couch, her eyes blazing with tears of jealousy.

  In an hour, Mason returned to their room, completely unaware of the jealous, enraged creature waiting for him. He took off his sweatshirt to cool down.

  “Would you please put your shirt on? You’re all sweaty,” she said disgustedly.

  “Sure. Sorry.” That was weird. His comm link beeped, but where was it? He found it on the floor by the patio, and answered. It was Kira, Omar’s assistant. He confirmed his stock orders with his thumb scan. “Everything all right, Rachel?” He asked, and put his hand on her shoulder. She sharply shrugged off his hand.

  “I’m fine. Go take a shower. You smell bad, John,” she complained.

  “Okay.” Now what? He showered and shaved. He dressed in his charcoal trousers and white shirt, and came out to sit with her. “Would you like some champagne before dinner, Rachel?” He asked her nicely.

  Why not, she thought. This is our last evening together. “Fine by me.”

  Mason ordered the champagne and went to the closet for his jacket. Then he noticed her clothes were gone. He looked around for her suitcase and saw it by the dresser. “Why did you pack? We have another two nights,” he asked, surprised.

  “Because I’m leaving on the 2:15a.m. transport tonight, that’s why,” she revealed.

  “Please tell me why you’re upset at me, Rachel. This hurts, you know,” he softly asked.

  “Not as much as you hurt me, John,” she said, tears rolling down her face.

  The knock on the door from the waiter bringing their champagne broke the tension for a brief moment. Mason tipped him and brought it in himself. She was still crying. “I never meant to hurt you, ever. Please tell me what I did, Rachel,” he pleaded.

  “You left me to see her, that slut with the big tits, I know you did!” She wept accusingly.

  “What?”

  Rachel cried, “You heard me. I know all about it. I heard her say you could have anything you wanted from her. She gave you her comm link number. I can see it in your wallet, John Mason.”

  “I swear to you I went on a run, Rachel. I would never leave you for a meeting with another woman,” Mason defended.

  “You’ve been flirting with every woman since we arrived here, John Mason. You’ve probably been with them every time you left me and went out!” The look in her eyes was pure rage. He had never seen her this way, in all the years he’d known her.

  “Do you see any woman in here but you? Have I taken any other woman out, to lunch, or dinner, or dancing? No. Only you, Rachel.” He tried to take her hand, but she quick
ly stood up, and pointed at the table.

  “There’s her number right there. Why do you deny it? It’s right there!”

  Mason stood and went to the table where his wallet lay. He saw the corner of the check sticking out, and, yes, there were a few numbers scrawled on it. “Why don’t you take it out and look at it, and tell me what her number is, Rachel?” He asked calmly.

  She stomped over to the table and picked up his wallet, but it wouldn’t open for her. “I can’t get it out,” she complained.

  Mason warned, “You can look, Rachel, but you have to look at everything.” His face was firm. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. He touched his wallet between his thumb and forefinger and it popped open. “Sit down and go through it.”

  She stared at him with rage in her eyes, sat down, and pulled out the yellow receipt. The numbers she’d assumed were the waitress’s comm link number were only the adjusted total of their check. “Satisfied?” He asked quietly, ready to call a halt to this whole thing.

  “You probably hid it someplace else.” She glared at him again.

  “Then keep going through it until you find what you’re looking for, Rachel Baines,” he said, sitting down in the adjacent chair.

  She pulled out the receipts he’d saved and opened each one, then refolded them and put them aside. The pockets on either side of the wallet wouldn’t open. Mason touched both sides with his thumb, and they opened for her. She hesitated to look inside. “Go ahead. Satisfy yourself. Find the numbers you’re convinced are there,” he quietly said. She unfolded one side and found three charge crystals, one upside-down. Next to them was another pocket where she could see paper edges. Rachel pulled them out. There were a dozen pictures: ten of her, one of her and Victor, and one of a beautiful woman she did not know.

  “That’s my sister, Sarah,” he said. There was a strange, clear plastic slide inside. Mason touched a corner, and holographic projections emerged in front of her. They were all of her and Victor, their live comm link communiqués with him while he was away at OCS. She began to feel embarrassed. “Keep going, Rachel.”

  She looked at him timidly, but unfolded the other side. Three more charge crystals, all upside-down. “The upside-down ones are used up,” he explained to her. She pulled out another stack of papers, and a picture of Sarah’s family.

  She looked through the rest of the papers: three more pictures of her, in uniform, this time; one as a Captain, and two as an Admiral. Then a square of paper with comm link numbers: it contained her home number, her private wrist comm link number, and her work comm link number. Tears were welling in her eyes. “John, I …”

  “Keep going. Only one more left to go. Might as well look in there, too.” He said, firmly.

  “I don’t want to,” she said. She was ashamed, and humiliated.

  “Just do it, Rachel,” Mason said sternly, standing.

  She slowly pulled out the three photos: her, in her Commander’s uniform, laughing, with her name badge reading “Cohen;” the picture of her holding his arm, and her late husband Victor, their Captain, standing in back of them, with his arms around them both, all of them smiling broadly; it was Mason’s 30th birthday picture. Rachel knew who was in the last picture without even turning it over: it was a treasured picture of Sherrie, his late wife; a beautiful portrait of her, smiling, and so in love.

  “She was devoted to you, John,” Rachel said, softly crying.

  “As I am devoted to you now, Rachel,” he said, unable to hold back his tears. The pain in his heart was showing.

  She put her arms around his neck. “John, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I violated your privacy. I falsely accused you. I am so very sorry,” she said contritely, and put her head on his shoulder.

  “I tried to tell you how I get so jealous sometimes. I have a fearful Irish temper. I try to control it, but I can’t help it. Men have treated me so badly, lied to me, and cheated on me. I’m sorry, John, really sorry.” She held him tightly. “I love you so much, John. The thought of you with another woman made me crazy. I’m really sorry, John. I love you,” she cried, and began kissing him, over and over. “I love you. I have always loved you. Since the day we met, I loved you. Please forgive me. Please, John; I’m so sorry.”

  He led her to the couch and held her in his arms until they both calmed down, and the tears stopped. “Will you stay with me two more nights, Rachel?” He asked softly.

  “Yes, John, I’ll gladly stay. Thank you for wanting me here with you. Will you please forgive me?” She gently touched his face.

  “I already have,” he said, and kissed her. “Why don’t you pour some champagne for us? We can toast weathering a storm,” he said, trying to smile. Mason got their champagne and uncorked the bottle. She poured them a glass each, and put the bottle on ice. They crossed arms, sipped the champagne, and kissed.

  “I have to go downstairs to the safe for a minute. There might be a line, and I’ll have to wait. But I’ll be right back, all right?” He asked.

  “I’ll be here,” she said. She hoped he’d hurry back.

  Mason went to the table and put his wallet together, and took out the used-up charge crystals. He put everything in his pocket, kissed her again, and left.

  Rachel got up and unpacked. John looked emotionally drained, and it was her fault. She had been so enraged, and so very foolish. She was filled with remorse. How could she have accused John, of all men, of betraying her? He had been her best friend longer than anyone, even longer than her late husband, Victor. John would never betray her. But he was so tall, big, and so handsome; she wanted him, and needed him. She knew other women wanted him too.

  She finally confessed she loved him. Rachel hoped John would really forgive her, and they could move beyond this episode. She prayed he would come to love her, too. She prayed her jealousy had not killed their chance for happiness. How could she have been so foolish?

  Mason changed out two new charge crystals and put the used ones in their leather storage wallet. Then he took out the blue box with the ring in it. He had seen her at her worst today, and they had survived the tempest. He hoped Rachel would say “yes” to him, and agree to marry him. It was now or never. He closed the safe deposit box with the second blue box and charge crystals, and had the hotel clerk lock it up for him again.

  When Mason returned, Rachel had unpacked, put on her “smoky eyes,” and changed dresses. This dress was sequined, short and very sexy. She was finally smiling again. “John, sit down, and let’s have more champagne.” Rachel refilled their glasses and sipped hers; Mason belted his. He sat down with her, took her hands and kissed them.

  “Eleven years ago this month, we met. We have history, Rachel. We made history on the Hesperia. I want all our tomorrows to be spent together, Rachel.” Mason gently held her left hand, removed her wedding and engagement rings, and put them on her right ring finger.

  “John…”

  He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the engagement ring for her, and put it on her left ring finger. “I love you, only you, Rachel. Be mine for today, and all of our tomorrows. Please marry me, Rachel Mary Caitlin Cohen Baines.”

  She was stunned, and speechless. The ring now on her finger showcased a huge pear-shaped diamond, surrounded by several more diamonds, in a platinum setting. Her thoughts were running wild: Platinum from the Hesperia; John said he loved me; he wants to marry me. He loves me, too. Marry…

  “John, I’m seven years older than you,” she softly admitted.

  “Six years, seven months and three days; but who’s counting?” He said, giving her a smile she could not refuse. “Rachel, be mine. Forever and always,” he asked her tenderly. His eyes showed honesty and love for her. The seconds passed by interminably slow.

  “Oh, John, yes, I’ll marry you! Yes, yes, yes!” He stood up, pulled her off the couch and kissed her with a passion that touched her very soul. The ocean breeze blew in softly through the open patio door, enveloping them in its cool, salt-scented fragranc
e. The night blooming jasmine next to their patio sent its delicious perfume to surround them. This was an enchanted night, a night made for lovers; lovers made for each other.

  They parted from that magic kiss, and began to laugh together. Rachel was so happy, her eyes twinkling, as were Mason’s. “Let’s go to dinner, dance, and celebrate, Rachel. I’m the luckiest man alive!” Mason exclaimed.

  “No, I’m the lucky one, John.” And she knew it was the truth. After what she put him through that afternoon, he could have sent her packing, and never looked back. Most men would have. But John didn’t. He really loved her.

  They went to the fine dining restaurant and were seated at the balcony overlooking the mountain side, and down to the ocean. The full moon was big and blue-hued, shining its light over the water, and all around them. The sommelier came over to them, and Rachel told him they just became engaged. He congratulated them, and left to get a bottle of champagne for them. “On the house, Mr. and future Mrs. Mason,” he said with a smile. They enjoyed their champagne and held hands, and sat close together.

  “I can’t believe this ring, John. Did you design it, too?” She asked, letting the light refract off its many facets.

  Mason smiled. “I chose the main stone for you, Rachel, and had Tiffany’s make the platinum band. But they filled in the rest. Do you like it?”

  “Like it? It’s simply magnificent, John,” she said. “I love it!” She knew how lucky she was.

  “You are my queen, Rachel. I wanted you to know how special you are to me, and how much I love you.” She smiled at him, and squeezed his hand.

  The hotel manager came over to them, introduced himself, and congratulated them. “Here in Costa Rica, we are a prime destination for weddings and honeymoons. You could exchange vows here as early as tomorrow, at our resort, or on the beach. I would be honored to make the arrangements for you, as my VIP guests.”

  “What about the thirty day waiting period?” Rachel asked.

  “We understand the power of love here in Costa Rica, lovely lady. There is no waiting period required. You may make him yours tomorrow, if you wish.” The manager smiled graciously at them.