Against the Tide Imperial: The Struggle for Ceylon (The Usurper's War: An Alternative World War II Book 3)

by James Young

  Oh shit. I've done touched off a powder magazine someone else has packed for me.

  "Now Jo, that's not…"

  "What, fair?" Jo snapped, slamming her coffee mug down on the counter. She stalked towards Sam, her fists clenched and face wild.

  "You fucking asked me in a letter if I was a prostitute, Sam!" she said, her voice all the more intense from the effort of not trying to scream. "Somehow, I doubt that Patricia got the same letter."

  Sam took a step backwards in reaction to Jo’s fury.

  Oh God, why did I think that was a good idea?

  "What life lesson did Nick get that both Eric and you did not?" Jo asked. "Because seeing the way Agnes looked at him, I know last night was not the first time those two had sex, she's been engaged, and somehow he doesn't treat her like she's scratched and dented furniture."

  "Now hold on a second," Sam said, setting his own coffee cup down with a thunk! "You don't get to lecture me about treating someone like damaged goods just because I asked if you needed help."

  "Help?" Jo asked, cocking her head and widening her eyes. "Sam Cobb, my father has paid for rent on this house through the end of this year. There is enough money in a savings account that I never touch to pay for another two years."

  Jo looked down for a second, her eyes briefly clouded.

  "I've put your sister's half of the 'rent' in a separate account," she continued softly. "I figured if she had to go back to the States because they forced us all to evacuate, she'd have some start up money so there'd be options besides Alabama."

  "What?!" Sam asked, incredulous. "But why wouldn't she want to go back to Alabama?"

  "Gee, I don't know, the same reason she bolted out here?" Jo retorted, shaking her head. "Namely a mother that thinks she needs to be someone's prim and proper wife and a father who allows it?"

  "Hey!" Sam said.

  "Is for horses, Sam," Jo cut him off sadly. "Who was going to stop it, you? You're too busy whoring around with anything that will stand still."

  I think that's a bit harsh.

  Sam grit his teeth as Jo turned away from him to glance out the kitchen window.

  Guess I’m just going to take this ass chewing and find someplace else to sleep.

  "Okay, that wasn't fair," Jo said after a moment. Her back turned towards him, she took a deep breath. "That's…I think that's the anger of you thinking I'd disrespect my father that way plus having the audacity of double standards."

  I think Eric is in there somewhere…wait, what?

  "Double standards?"

  "Yes, that's what us Yankees call it in when you think a man can just stick it in anything he wants but clearly a woman who has had…well, that's none of your business," Jo continued. "So let's just say, a woman who has not been chaste is the type to be giving three minute rub and tugs down in the red light district."

  Sam looked at Jo aghast.

  "I'm a librarian, Sam," Jo said, turning around to face him. He could see emotions flit across her face as she made a mental correction. "Or at least I was. Sailors really don't pay attention to who’s around when they talk."

  Which leads to the whole thing that got this mess started. That stupid note.

  "If I'd known that your rent was taken care of, I wouldn't have asked if you needed me to send you money," Sam replied. "I mean, they told me about Patricia going to work at the docks, but they said you’d just basically vanished."

  "Gee, and the first thing that crossed your mind was…"

  She has a point, Sam realized, suddenly horrified.

  "That wasn't the first thing that crossed my mind, Jo," Sam muttered defensively.

  "But it was on the list," Jo pressed. "I mean, how did you know I hadn't gotten a job as a school teacher? Or a nurse's aide? Or just started drafting with your sister and not told anyone about it?"

  Sam held up his hands plaintively.

  "Okay, okay, that was stupid," Sam admitted. "I am sorry."

  And not just because I haven't been read the riot act that effectively since I nearly pranged a bird during training.

  Sam could see Jo searching his face to see if he was sincere. Apparently satisfied, she held up one finger.

  "That's the first thing," Jo said, then added a second finger. "The next thing…"

  "No, wait a minute," Sam interrupted sharply. He paused to take a calming breath. "How about we discuss just where in the hell my sister is right now?"

  "Oh, you mean the woman who left me a lovely note calling me names that were not exactly pleasant? A message which informed me she had packed an overnight bag, and would see me at work tomorrow?" Jo asked. "All because her siblings and I conspired against her?"

  Sam whistled like a descending bomb.

  Vintage Toots. Got Mom's temper without Dad's long fuse. Didn't help that she had most of us wrapped around her finger.

  "Yes, that sister," he replied sorrowfully.

  "Well, given she told me to enjoy 'fornicating with whatever brother suited my fancy,” Jo began evenly, “but would ask that I not break up the family's marriages…'"

  Jo stopped to collect herself, lip trembling.

  Oh my God!

  Sam stepped forward to wrap Jo in his arms, shocked at Patricia’s callousness. After a moment’s resistance, she grabbed him back, burying her face in his chest as she sobbed. The smell of her hair shampoo and lotion wafted into his nostrils.

  "I am going to have words with her," Sam snarled, feeling his own temper rising. "Dad only made me give her a switch once when we were kids, but maybe that needs to be revisited."

  Jo pushed back and looked up at him, snorting in a completely unladylike manner. Sam started to smile until she began speaking.

  "Gee Sam, I have no idea why I would set aside money for your sister to possibly start her own life somewhere," Jo said, incredulous. "I mean, you're talking about giving a grown woman a switching for what is a relatively reasonable response to what we did."

  Sam looked at Jo in surprise.

  Reasonable? I don't think that was very reasonable at all.

  "She basically accused you of passing yourself around between us," Sam responded, his eyes wide. Jo just looked at him with a slight smile. After a moment, Sam started grinning in return.

  "I guess that's rather hypocritical given…uh…"

  Jo let him struggle for words for a few moments.

  "Here, I'll say it for you: 'Given I, Sam Cobb, believed you were basically performing acts of sodomy on half the Pacific Fleet,'" Jo said.

  Sam felt the heat rise in his cheeks even as his smile became a broader one.

  Jesus Christ I missed how blunt she is. But I was mainly thinking about the fact that I enjoy you being in my arms.

  "So, with that being said, I think we need to agree maybe you shouldn't be treating your sister like she's eight and giving you back talk," Jo chided. "It's not right to her as a woman, and I am fairly certain I can fight my own battles, thank you."

  "I wasn't intending to fight your battles–" Sam began, only to have Jo interrupt him with a gentle finger to his lips.

  "Whatever you want to call it, Sam," Jo said. "It's not okay. If I wanted to have some Sir Galahad sweep in and save the day, I'd be long married by now."

  Jo stepped fully out of his embrace and backed up to the kitchen sink. Sam fought the urge to step forward and close the space again.

  She's moving like some townswoman facing Frankenstein's monster.

  "Which leads to the crux of this discussion," Jo said. "What are we?"

  Wait, what?

  Jo looked at him expectantly for five long seconds.

  "The fact that you're not immediately answering friends is why I'm asking, Sam," Jo said. "I mean, I haven't seen you and Sadie much together, but somehow I doubt you just pat her leg and leave your arm there in mixed company.”

  Sam widened his eyes at that very thought, then realized what he’d done. Jo pressed her advantage with a slight smirk.

  “Or hold her like s
he's a life preserver and you've been dog paddling in the Pacific for two hours when either of you are hardly dressed for being around the opposite sex. Tell me, Sam, would you have just held Sadie like that in the middle of her kitchen?"

  I feel like that one time the Anders kid jumped me in 8th grade. No idea why he was mad at me or where he came from, it was just suddenly all fists and screaming.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't think that would bother you," Sam said. Jo's bemused look told him that his response, while honest, was not the right one.

  "See, that's the problem—it didn't bother me," Jo said. "Indeed, the only reason I moved your hand when it was on my knee is Agnes looked over at us with a faint approval."

  Jo’s smirk became a full smile.

  “And the only reason I just stopped you from holding me is I think we were both starting to enjoy it a little too much.”

  "Oh," Sam said.

  "Yeah, 'oh' indeed," Jo noted, then took a deep breath and turned around to grab her coffee. The delaying tactic was so obvious, Sam nearly commented, but stopped as Jo made a face after her first sip.

  "Stone cold?" he asked with a smile. Jo gave him a frustrated look, then motioned as if she was going to throw the mug at him. Only as he flinched did he see the amusement in her expression.

  "Look, we can't keep doing this," Jo said suddenly, shaking her head.

  "I'll go get a room at the bachelor officer quarters tomorrow," Sam replied.

  "Oh, okay, and then what's your excuse going to be for why you're not coming to dinner before you leave?" Jo asked. "Sorry Toots, Jo basically called me out for acting like we're a courting couple which made me feel all awkward. Off to harm's way!"

  "Are you asking me if we're going steady?" Sam asked.

  "No, I'm saying if you want to go steady, then I'm enough of a traditionalist you can ask me," Jo replied. "But, given Lord knows putting a Cobb man in a corner is a bad idea, you need to ask or stop making people wonder."

  Sam started to speak, then stopped. It was his turn to reach for the coffee.

  "Yep, stone cold," he said, putting it back after making a scrunched up face.

  "If you have to stall, Sam, that's my poi–“

  Oh God, I'm going to regret this.

  Jo, seeing something in his face, had stopped mid-sentence. Sam took two big steps forward and wrapped Jo in his arms before he could reconsider. As she looked up in surprise, her mouth still open from being caught mid-sentence, Sam kissed her. After a moment's stiffness, Jo kissed him back, molding herself to him.

  This is going to be messy.

  He pushed his hand into the front of Jo’s robe, surprised to find her naked breast. She whimpered as he cupped it, kissing him back even more fiercely.

  So incredibly, inextricably messy.

  "Sam…" Jo said breathlessly as his thumb found her nipple. He started to pull his hand back at her saying his name…until her own hand worked inside the flap of his pajama pants. He gasped as her cool fingers found him.

  "Dammit…Sam…I just wanted…to…" Jo continued.

  “Yea…” he started, this gasped as she made a frustrated sound and it his neck.

  Samuel Cobb, what in the hell are you doing?

  He lifted Jo on the counter, bringing his other and up afterwards once again to her chest. Then he had no more time for consideration, her hands firm but gentle on him.

  "Are…" he gasped, then was silenced as she kissed him, one hand on the back of his head.

  "Yes," she gasped. "Oh my God, stop talking and hurry up before someone comes home!"

  Oh shit. His hand moved up the outside of her thigh, quickly grabbing her underwear. Jo pushed her legs together and pulled her right leg up. The underwear caught on the counter edge, trapping her foot.

  "Goddammit," she muttered, then giggled when their hands collided reaching to help her foot through them. That task done, Jo quickly brought her leg back around to pull Sam towards her, kissing him urgently again. He nearly jumped as her hand gripped him firmly, then with a desire-filled mewl aligned him.

  We are really doing this!

  There was a brief moment where he considered stopping, then he was inside her. Jo made a strangled cry in his ear as he thrust forward, then bit down hard on his shoulder.

  "I'm not…sure…we…should have done that," Sam panted a few moments later, voice trembling. He leaned back to look into Jo's eyes. In them he found the same sense of shock, surprise, and satisfaction that he felt as well.

  Definitely shouldn’t’ have done that. But I'll be damned before I'll regret it.

  Inhaling her lotion and perfume, Sam was almost intoxicated with lust. Without another thought, he tenderly kissed Jo. For a brief moment their tongues dueled. Then as if regaining her senses, Jo pushed him back.

  "I have to go take another shower," Jo said quickly, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder at the empty walk. "You probably should too, but only after you open that window."

  Sam was taken aback for a second as Jo bent down to collect her underwear.

  "Uh…" he said, befuddled.

  "Talk later, move now," Jo said, walking quickly towards the back of the house. "And wipe down the counter too."

  With that, she was gone, leaving Sam feeling bewildered before he did as he was told. Jo's wisdom was apparent just as Sam finished mopping the floor.

  "Some brother you are," David said from the front foyer, causing Sam to jump.

  This is why I joined the Corps rather than lead a life of crime. He felt a rush of relief as David turned to put his uniform cap on the hat rack by the door.

  "Major Haynes had you well in hand when I left," Sam replied.

  David gave him a wry look.

  "He said it was the least he could do after making me the 'weaving trailer' last night," the smaller Cobb replied.

  "The what?" Sam asked, perplexed. David rolled his eyes.

  "Apparently our friends in the RAF used to fly in three plane formations," David replied. "The Germans got really good at picking off the guy tasked to weave behind the other two to stop a bounce."

  Sam looked at his brother aghast.

  "That poor bastard," Sam said. "Anyway, I just got up."

  "I could kinda tell from the robe and boxers," David said. "Mom would kill us both for how casual we've gotten around Toots and Jo."

  Casual. That's a whole new slang for it.

  "Speaking of which, did Toots and Jo ever make up?"

  "No, we did not," Jo said airily, walking into the room with her hair up in a towel. Sam noted she was wearing a different dressing gown. "You want breakfast, David?"

  Jesus, that woman could murder someone without giving it away. He was slightly horrified at Jo’s cool demeanor, her quick thinking and, most terrifyingly, the mixture of pride and awe he had with both.

  The smell of breakfast is going to cover up anything else.

  "If it's not too much trouble, Jo," David answered. He turned to Sam.

  "Anyway, Major Haynes gave the squadron liberty for an extra day," David said. "Apparently there's a front moving in sometime tomorrow, and he doesn’t feel like trying to fly in bad weather."

  "Yes, I don't think we suddenly forgot how to use instruments on the way over here," Sam noted.

  "Sam Cobb, you spent all morning complaining about how long it takes me to get out of the shower, now here you are standing in my kitchen," Jo said, turning around from where she'd started some eggs. Sam looked at her to see her pantomiming a shooing motion.

  Don't look suspicious, Sam repeated to himself, turning to head towards the back of the house. David shook his head, then looked as if he immediately regretted it.

  "I'm going to lay down for a nap, if no one minds," David stated. "Where is Toots, anyway?"

  "She didn't come home last night," Sam said. "I'll let Jo explain."

  "No, you'll let Jo cook," Jo snapped, then gave Sam a smile to indicate the tone was totally for David's benefit.

  I like that smile. I like
that smile way too much.

  For the second time, Jo shooed him away, brandishing the spatula. This time Sam obeyed her, heading for his own shower.

  10

  Restitution and Remnants

  One more such victory and we will be undone

  King Pyhrrus of Epirus

  Pacific Fleet Headquarters

  1000 Local

  10 August

  "With God as my witness, I hope I don't look nearly as bad as I feel, Frederick," Admiral Dunlap said, squinting as he stood on the second floor balcony of the Pacific Fleet Headquarters building.

  It has literally been decades since I've been this hung over, he thought. I am never drinking with a man who has fundamentally lost his country ever again. Vice Admiral Wake-Walker and he had retired to his office after the Royal Navy officer had received the final update on events in the Indian Ocean.

  "Sir, to be fair, if you looked as bad as you felt, I would be calling for a corpsman," Commander Powers said, handing Admiral Dunlap a large mug of coffee. Dunlap nodded in appreciation, took his first healthy swig of coffee, and almost spat it out.

  "Who made this?" Dunlap asked, looking in the pitch black cup he held.

  "I did, sir," Powers replied, his face blank.

  Clearly he's not going to dime out some poor mess steward. But this coffee could almost get up and walk across that yard to the road.

  Dunlap took another swig as he met his aide's gaze.

  "Well, you should really learn how to make better coffee, commander," the flag officer said. "It's not quite sentient like Frankenstein's monster, and I don't feel my heart about to explode out of my chest from the caffeine."

  "Yet, sir," Powers replied. "You don't feel your heart about to explode out of your chest yet."

  Dunlap smirked at Powers’ comment.

  "So do you have any actual reports for me, or are we going to continue having a discourse about cardiac arrest and Secretary Daniels' favorite drink?"

  Powers smiled faintly, then stepped to close the door back into the building.

  "Vice Admiral Fletcher has been disengaging all evening and into the night," Powers said. "His last update until morning, his time, is as follows…"