Chapter One - Jicarilla Flats - The Acquisition of a Paradise (Between Before and Later)

“There is a caveat, Mr. Compton.”

“What would that be, ma’am?”

“If you do change your mind and decide to do any mining on that almost three-thousand-acre property, you are restricted from using any chemicals besides H2O, hydrogen oxide, dihydrogen monoxide, or whatever you want to call water, and elbow grease.” Her smile was telling. She was trying to be funny, yet serious as a heart attack at the same time.

I smiled back at her humor and assured her there would be no shenanigans as it applied to the art and or science of mining with any hazardous materials.

I was fortunate to find this plot of land available. The land was an old spread confiscated by the state of New Mexico due to way overdue back taxes and the illicit use of the land for chemical manufacture. The kind of chemicals the police are adamantly against. Yes, there was a good-sized shack found on the property that had been used as a meth lab. They found one of those big anhydrous ammonia trailers behind it, covered with brush, stolen in Texas some time ago and having had the tracker ripped clean off of it. Not good.

Part of the deal was a pledge on my part to pay for a licensed professional hazmat company to come in and clean it up, including the removal of the shed itself. That kept the state from having to oversee the job, except for a final sign-off that it had happened. Another thing I did to assure good feelings was to drop twenty years of property tax payments on them at the current tax rate. They wouldn’t be collecting or raising taxes until… Well, it would be a while, now, wouldn’t it.

The plot itself was a small green floored valley with a fairly large stream running longways down one side. Spanning about a mile and a half across and three miles long, it was bordered to the north and south by small mountain ranges, opening up on the ends with only small hills to the east and west. My plan was to move there, build my own airfield, with a house and a hangar on one end, and live as a glorified hermit for the rest of my hopefully long and happy life.

The northern mountain range was the southern boundary of a state park, with some federal and national park land on either end where the hills were. The southern strip of mountains was the northern border of the Jicarilla Apache Nation Reservation. I had already met with the leaders of the tribe, letting them know what I was planning on doing. They didn’t have a problem with it, and since there were no dwellings within three miles of my property save three families, who were still quite a distance away, they told me there wouldn’t be any issues.

I told them that if that changed, once I was set up the way I wanted, there wouldn’t be any going back. They understood implicitly, knowing full well that people going back on their word was a rough row to hoe and would yield nothing but contempt. Their people had been there before and didn’t want to be on the evil side of that situation. After I got their agreement, solidified by handshakes and arm clasps, I wrote them a check to build a new library for their school. Yes, they were set back by my generosity. Very set back. They had no idea I was going to gift them anything for their cooperation; let alone the amount I gave. Four hundred large will build a nice building in New Mexico, not to mention providing work for quite a few people for quite a while. There might even be enough left over for a few new books.

All I had to do now was find contractors, and of course a hazmat cleanup company, and turn them loose.

Over and Above, Inc., a biohazard, crime scene, and chemical spill cleanup operation out of Santa Fe, took care of the hazmat problem. They had their own subcontractors to remove the shack, as well as its measly crumbling stone foundation and the soil surrounding it, then had the ground filled with topsoil, fertilized, and seeded. Just like it never even happened, right? Pretty much.

It took a year, but after that year I had a large lodge with a huge, connected garage, four double garage doors, three on one side and one on the other for a pull through, with a driveway to match, and a big shop area. I had a hangar, fuel storage tanks for vehicles, tractors, and of course, airplanes. Non-ethanol enhanced premium gasoline, offroad diesel, and enough Jet-A to get me to and fro for quite some time. I had a distributor out of Santa Fe come out and set me up with tanks and delivery options, and just about everything I needed to pass gas, out in the wilderness, all by my lonesome.

The runway took a couple of months more, but when it was done, I had a premium concrete slab just over a mile long, a hundred feet wide, and varying in thickness from twelve inches toward the ends to eight inches in the middle, and slightly less than that, mostly five and six inches for the taxiway and apron, as well as six plus inches for the hangar floor. The hangar floor was smooth as silk, having been surfaced to perfection, with no low spots, and it drained out the main doors, perfectly, with no puddles. I was really happy with that floor.

The apron was set up with tie downs for two aircraft outside the hangar, and the hangar itself was designed to hold three airplanes in the bizjet class, but that was just because I wanted plenty of room. I really had no intention at the time of buying more than one aircraft.

When the runway contractor talked to me about all the lighting for the runway, taxiways, and all that, being completed, just waiting to be surrounded with concrete, I decided to get busy and start looking for a plane. I had enough to buy any aircraft I wanted, but I wanted one I could fly alone. I had a lot of other requirements, as well, but other than enough range, adequate facilities, and a galley to reproduce Jacque’s coffee, anywhere in the world, they weren’t too restrictive.

More about Jacque in a bit. I sat on the porch stairs of the lodge, looked out over the valley, sipping on some coffee like he made, and thought back about what had happened over the last couple of years.

Chapter Two - Jicarilla Flats - Down, But Not Out (Before Paradise)

Charlie Compton was a U.S. Air Force jet fighter pilot. He was flying a General Dynamics F-16CJ Fighting Falcon, also known as a Viper, in support of some activity going on just west of where he was shot down by the third of three surface to air missiles which were pursuing him from the area in question. After an extended period floating down from above, he found solid ground in Iraq, and after walking a couple of miles, he was seeking help at a large estate in an oasis by a small river.

After calling out and announcing his presence, Charlie was confronted by the owner, Amir Hassan, who tried his best to kill him, but Charlie defended himself, quickly enough it seems, and instead wound up killing the other man, Mr. Hassan. Hassan had to reach for a weapon, whereas Charlie merely drew his and when he knew it was a ‘him or me’ decision, fired on and killed the man, thereby gaining ownership of the man’s property, his mansion, his three wives, two servants, several mules, a couple of camels, two Land Rovers, a Jeep, and a Bentley. Shockingly, he found that the Bentley had a boot full of gold, a whole bunch of American, British, and German money, many millions of dollars in liquid stock certificates, mostly bearer bonds, and digital keys, codes, and titles to six different accounts laden with Bitcoin and other cyber currency.

The head servant explained the laws of their tribe, a tribe which was looking pretty thin and bleak right then, and told Charlie it was all his, and why. He explained how the laws of ascension in that tribal region worked. The man, the owner of the massive estate, was despised by everyone in the compound and no trouble would come Charlie’s way for ending the life of the master of the castle, as it were. Charlie contemplated the situation for almost four minutes. Three and a half of those were spent catching his breath and drinking a glass of water.

Only one of the women was even halfway acceptable looking, so Charlie gave her to Hasim, the head servant, as a wife, since he could speak pretty good English and was the one helping Charlie navigate the happenings. He gave the other two to his brother Nasim, the grounds keeper, on the advice of Hasim, and signed a paper turning ownership of the house, property, Land Rovers, and livestock over to the both of them. They could sort out the details later. One word of advice Charlie left with them, though, was to keep the pool clean at all times. Once you let them go, especially in the heat, you’ll find it hard to get them back into shape again. He also left them with enough money to keep the place running for a few decades and told them to drive the Jeep once in a while, but he wanted to keep it for his own use just in case he came back to visit. Hasim thought that was an excellent idea.

He then made sure the Bentley was full of gas, took two extra full gas cans, and took off for the American Embassy in Jordan. That would be his best and closest chance to find a friendly face. The new owners of his recently acquired and relinquished house showed him maps and letters in the console that would provide him with routes and passwords which would get him through any checkpoints and bypass any problem areas.

The trip was long, but not arduous, since the previous owner was a fan of American female pop stars. Charlie didn’t mind the company a bit. Taylor Swift, Holly Fields, and the gang kept his mind off the memory of the slow descent down under that parachute. A truly frightening experience. They also kept his mind off the cause of his inheriting that estate. He’d never killed anyone close-up before. A pickup with a cannon on it, a couple of ammo trucks, a few buildings of one type or another, yes, but never that close-up and personal. The close-up kind was truly more frightening.

Once there, safe in the American Embassy in Amman, he was able to contact his outfit, request a month’s leave, which was normally granted all pilots after such an incident, and told he would be allowed to leave from a port in Israel with his Bentley, and by default, of course, his bounty. No one really checked, since he was an upstanding young Major with a distinguished history of service and had been shot down by one of three Syrian surface to air S-300 missiles thrown at him by the bad guys. On the bright side, he outmaneuvered the other two.

He had been feared dead after a week, his plane being found with no survivor lying around, nor anywhere near, the transponder smashed and not operating, but he surfaced shortly afterwards in Jordan with a wild story about how he was looking for help and a man tried, unsuccessfully, to kill him. Over drinks with the Embassy staff the night he arrived, the CoS, the Chief of Station, normally manned by an old CIA wealth of knowledge, told him he was lucky he didn’t wind up with more wives than he wanted. That got the story rolling again, but Charlie didn’t let it get to the point that anyone would find out he could buy a fairly good-sized bank with what was in the boot of his auto. Being honest with himself, even he didn’t know exactly how much was in there yet.

A Jordanian government official, a local acquaintance of the CoS, on a whim, and just for fun, helped Charlie with a Title and Registration for the Bentley, providing him documentation indicating that the car was his as far as the Jordanian government was concerned. That enabled Charlie to drive it legally, and as soon as his leave was approved, he would depart for the port in Haifa with a letter of safe passage from the Government of Jordan, as well as one from the US Embassy there in Amman. Those documents ensured no one, not even the customs officials in the states, would question the car. The Israelis were being notified that he would be on the way and what his status was.

The morning the determination was made to let him go on leave and take his automobile home with him, he prepared himself and the very small amount of clothes and personal items he had picked up at the estate and the shops around the embassy. He just threw them all in a duffle bag and pitched them into the front seat next to him. As he was leaving the compound, Jake Tyler, the CoS in question, stopped him at the gate and notified him that the man he killed was on the most wanted lists of the United States, the Kuwaiti government, the United Kingdom, the Israelis, Spain, and Canada. He would be able to buy a house with the reward money he was going to receive from those several entities.

Charlie immediately grinned and made it look like he was so, so glad to hear that after all he had been through. “The money will surely come in handy, Jake. Thank you for everything, and thanks for the heads up on that. How will I…”

Jake interrupted him. “Don’t you worry about it. You’ll get a cashier’s check in the mail from my people. I’ll put it together for you personally. We’ll find you. One other thing, Charlie.” Charlie lifted his chin in question. “Your leave doesn’t start until you get back to the world. Just a gift from the Ambassador. His wife and daughter think you’re ‘the shit’. Not bad for a pilot that couldn’t keep his rig in the air, even considering it’s coming from a twelve-year-old! Be careful, Charlie, and just check in with your unit as soon as you get to Hilton Head. They won’t know the difference.” Jake Tyler stepped back and touched his fingers to his brow in a salute. The man who killed the most wanted terrorist leader since Usama Bin Laden was leaving his camp.

With that, Charlie drove away, quite literally on top of the world. At least the world of dead terrorists and found money.

Gaining passage on a small freighter bound for the Port of Charleston, South Carolina, was the best solution available. It wasn’t one of those huge container ships, but a bulk carrier that had compartments for shipping operations similar to what trucking companies would call LTL, or ‘Less Than a Load’. Smaller than a shipping container, but bigger than a pullman suitcase. Plus, the goods they hauled could be picked up at the pier, instead of having to be shipped to a warehouse with a loading dock somewhere in a big shipping connex type of container. No middleman. He could just drive his new ride off the dock and down the coast to Hilton Head and work on his tan.

In any case, he was able to get himself, and his newly found automobile, so much more than just a car, out of the middle east and on the way to America in only a few days. What he found by traveling this way was that after having to suffer with the ship’s cook’s food for a day and a half before they set sail, thereby departing Haifa, he had uncovered a veritable diamond lost in a sea of coal. The ship’s galley was a five-star dining facility, but with stainless steel utensils and Corelle plates. The food was out of this world. Even the coffee was phenomenal, being made from a certain type of bean out of Kenya that the chef ground himself.

Charlie had to suffer with the chef’s food for sixteen more glorious days. He was starting to wonder if maybe he shouldn’t just go AWOL and work on this wonderful freighter. That was put to bed when he realized the captain was an asshat, the ship was a rusty mess, and someone was going to have to paint the damned thing at some point in the near future. He certainly didn’t want to be involved with that operation. In addition, he was getting a bit seasick once they left the Mediterranean and were halfway across the Atlantic. He spent sixteen days on that ship, babysitting his 2020 Continental GTC Speed Mulliner W12 and eating the finest food to which he had ever been exposed. His mother, bless her soul, was wonderful in the kitchen, but she couldn’t hold a candle to Jacque Moline, the master chef of the Dutch Freighter Leiden.

Chapter Three - Jicarilla Flats - Finding My Ride (Living in the Now)

I found an aircraft. Finally! After looking all over God’s creation for a new one that fit my needs, I finally found one. I had been looking for a brand new one, but as I mentioned, in order for it to fit my needs, there were no new ones available. If I wanted to wait for another year for one to come off the assembly line already adapted for my needs, I could do that, but that would cost more money and, of course, take time. I didn’t care about the money. I cared about the time. So… I went to Denver and took a look at a Cessna Citation Longitude that had been updated and configured so that a single pilot could fly it from the left seat with no assistance, save for the autopilot, autothrottles, and separation system. Not to mention an auto landing system in case the pilot got the runs and couldn’t get out of the head in time. (Kidding.) No human assistance, that is.

After flying fighters and commuter aircraft for twelve years I felt I was fully capable of handling the Longitude by myself. The FAA certified me and provided a waiver for me, but only for that specific aircraft. I had all of the qualifications for time in the seat, time using instruments only, all of that, so I called the insurance company, and they immediately said ‘No’. After discussing my background, I made them a deal, posted a bond with them covering the cost of replacing the airplane and stipulated that if anything happened that was the fault of only having one pilot, i.e., pilot error due to inattention, inability to keep up with the flight controls, confusion, or anything like that, they could have my premiums that I would pay, which they brought down to a normal rate, as well as the bonded money. Win - win. They get twenty million dollars plus if I blow it, with which they could replace my airplane, or provide it to my successors, and I get to fly alone, if I wish. If the damage wasn’t due to my being a single pilot, they were on the hook, as any insurance company would be for a legal and normal claim.

After a couple of weeks enjoying the Denver weather, as well as taking courses and check rides in my new airplane, I headed home. Once I was signed off, I would be able to do what I wanted, when I wanted, and Lord knows I was looking forward to that. I hadn’t been out of the service for very long, and I was enjoying my freedom. I enjoyed flying in the service, too, but now, with no limits on money or fishing spots, I was able to come and go as I pleased.

The drive in the Bentley back down south toward my new home seemed to take longer than the one north when I went up to buy and get checked out on the plane. I spent more time thinking about the past, how I got where I am today, and where I might be going.

Chapter Four - Jicarilla Flats - Coming Ashore and Counting Blessings (Before Paradise)

The boat docked and Charlie’s cargo was lifted out of the hold first. That made him think maybe the captain wasn’t such a jerk at all. He could have made Charlie wait, but instead, the captain told his crew to use the ship’s own loading cranes to lift the pallet with the car on it up and out of the hold. “CAREFULLY, you nit wits!” he yelled in his best Dutch and worst English accent. Okay, so he’s just a jerk to his crew. Charlie was able to unstrap the wheels and tires from the pallet then drive the car off the pallet using a couple of scrap boards for little ramps, then got back out, approached the captain, shook his hand, then saluted him.

“Thank you for everything, sir. If you feel the need to fire your cook, I’d love to take him off your hands.”

“You are most welcome, young man. If I find you are luring him away, I will have you hunted down and skinned alive. He is the only reason my crew tolerates my shitty attitude.” He laughed, waved, and went back to work.

Charlie drove to the nearest gas station that could provide it, filled the car up with non-ethanol enhanced premium gasoline, then found a Denny’s. At that point, what he really wanted was a cheeseburger and some scrambled eggs. Everyone has their weaknesses.

The drive to Hilton Head was pleasant and relaxing. On the way, he stopped at a Dollar General, those little stores are everywhere, and picked up a burner phone to use until he got his bearings. He’d been assured his unit would send all of his gear, uniforms, personal items and electronics back to their home base not far from where he was. Shaw Air Force Base was where he had been stationed for the last few years now. It was a choice assignment, landing a gig with a real fighter wing and getting a break from flying VIPs around in commercial style planes.

His first call was to the Omni Resort at Hilton Head. He explained the situation, although not in graphic detail, but yes, they had a room for him, and yes, they would hold it for him, no problem.

One fortunate thing since the accident and the shooting, Charlie figured so anyway, was that he still had his small thin wallet, the one credit card that he carried, his driver’s license, his military ID, and his passport card. He always kept them in the breast pocket in his flight suit. They took up so little room he never even felt them under all of his gear.

The next call was one he had been dreading. He just needed to make sure things hadn’t changed. If they had, he wouldn’t know how to react, but if they hadn’t, well, he had already started making a new life for himself anyway, so he’d just carry on.

He dialed Nancy Everett’s phone number. Disconnected or no longer in service. Well, that answered that question. He sighed. Then after thinking about it for a few minutes, he realized it was a sigh of relief. She was getting a bit high maintenance and even borderline uppity. The cheating was a symptom, not the disease. It was probably better this way, Charlie thought, reminding himself to be careful with sour grapes.

The Omni was comfortable, busy, and well-staffed. They also had eats and drinks. Once he had made sure all was ready, he grabbed one of the luggage carts and made for the Bentley. He had arranged his loot in suitcases while in Amman, so that things were less obvious, as well as easier to carry. A bellboy approached, but Charlie waved him off thanking him, and explaining that this was something he needed to take care of himself. Thinking better of it, he waved the kid back over, gave him a ten spot and thanked him for staying aware. The kid smiled, thanked him, and let him be.

The gold wouldn’t be going up to the room. There were three small satchels of gold bars, ingots, and coins. Charlie estimated three to four hundred pounds. At the current prices, say about fifteen to twenty million dollars, give or take. What he needed to do now was to find out how much cash and paper, and of course smoke and mirrors, as in the cryptocurrency, he was holding. Once he was up in the room, he laid each of the suitcases up on the bed and began the arduous task of counting.

Four hours later, he had an estimate. It took a couple of phone calls and a trip to the business area down in the lobby, but he did some research and afterwards estimated he had two million in American cash, one and a half million ‘pounds sterling’, as they say, just under two million Deutschmarks, almost three million Euros, seventy-five million in bearer bonds, about another ten million in similar instruments, stock certificates, and five hundred and thirty million or so, depending on the time of day, in cryptocurrency. The game plan for tomorrow was to unload around half of the cryptocurrency and get it into something more tangible. He wasn’t a fan of something he couldn’t count, or see, or feel, or at least think about as being real.

The first thing he did after making his initial financial decision was to order room service with a couple of rocks glasses of honey whiskey, four beers, a steak and potato dinner, and a slice of pecan pie. He knew the pie wasn’t getting eaten until later, but it would be there in the suite if he wanted it. He carefully put everything away in the cases, then waited for the bellhop to drop off dinner. Another ten-spot handed to the same smiling kid, and he was tucking into dinner.

Between bites, he counted his many blessings, both for what he had, and what he hadn’t. ‘Remember, Charlie,’ he told himself, ‘No sour grapes. You’re alive and you fell into some good shit. Just deal with it as best you can and don’t change. For God’s sake, for love nor money, don’t change.’

Chapter Five - Jicarilla Flats - Taking Delivery (Life after Paradise Acquired)

I didn’t really want to, but they kind of talked me into it. I was picked up at my own airfield, the runway being just recently finished. There was only one strip left to do, and that was the long taxiway from the west end of the apron, which was on the east end of the runway, running to the west end of the runway. The airfield was otherwise fully functioning at that point and would be done in just a couple of weeks.

The aircraft brokers arrived in a little Phenom 300e. That would have been one of my choices, but I had to scratch it off the list due to the lack of range. They took me back to Denver to get my Longitude. The instructor wanted me to fly back home by myself, with him in the plane, but he wasn’t doing anything short of evaluating. Kind of like he had done before, but with no prompting or anything similar at all. I was to pretend he wasn’t there, but he would be evaluating my every move.

I performed the preflight, got everything buttoned up, then took my new plane home. After landing and parking the plane in the hangar, he told me, “I’m impressed. You did say you were a fighter jockey, though, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Jack. A fighter jockey with one kill, and of course, one killed, as in my aircraft. But, as I like to point out to people who ask, I did outrun and outsmart the other two that were chasing me.” I like to chuckle at that point, but deep down inside, the thought makes me want to kind of pee my pants again, if not outright throw up.

He looked over toward the house and saw the car. “Someday, you’ll have to tell me the story about the Bentley, Charlie.”

“No problem, Jack. That one’s easy. I killed a man, gave his house and his wives away to his servants, told them to keep the pool clean in my old house, and drove home. Pretty simple.” I smiled at him.

“Okayyy, then. I think I’ll let that one go.” He laughed, we shook hands, he told me to let him know if I needed his help with anything, then boarded his friend’s Embraer, and off they went back up to the mile high city. Or maybe down to the mile high city. I’m pretty sure I was higher than that. No matter, I was home, my plane was home, and I was feeling very good about my life.

Chapter Six - Jicarilla Flats - Checking Back Into Life (Before Paradise was found)

The morning of the second day at the resort, Charlie phoned in to his orderly room at the base and let them know he had arrived safely and was stateside. They let him know that his personal belongings were there at the squadron building, set back in a corner in the conference room and he could get them at any time. There had been a couple of welfare visits made on his apartment by a couple of friends, one being the squadron operations office clerk herself. She was a nice girl, and friendly, and just wanted to make sure no one was trashing the place or anything.

“Sylvia, that is really sweet of you. Help me remember you need a treat for being so thoughtful, okay? I’ll be up in a week or so. I’ve decided to go ahead and put in my paperwork to separate.”

“Ohhhhh,” Sylvia let out. She sounded disappointed.

“It’s okay, hon, I just think it’s time to do something else for a while after that whole fiasco. I’ll be fine, and God knows you all can find better pilots. Maybe some that might make it back with their buggy in one piece.”

“Major, you need to stop that right now. You know, and I know, and the entire shop knows you did all you could against amazing odds and lasted longer than any of the rest of these yahoos could have. Don’t put yourself down like that.”

“I won’t, Sylvia. I’m good. I mean I’m all right. I just need some different scenery for a while.”

“Okay. Well, take care of yourself and call before you come in. Where are you, anyway?”

“Hilton Head at the Omni. Not far from home, young lady. Not far at all.”

“No shit, you could have just yelled.” She giggled. “Okay, take care, and if you get bored looking at the scenery, drive up and we’ll grab lunch and talk or something.”

“Sounds good, Syl. See you soon.”

They hung up and Charlie sat back in the easy chair. Nice kid, he thought. Gotta be careful talking to cute little Staff Sergeants, though. That kind of thing is frowned upon greatly. ‘Oh, well,’ he thought, ‘I won’t be a Major for very long. Maybe, just maybe… Dirty old man’, he said to himself.

It was around ten in the morning when Charlie decided he wanted to go down to the pool, but he had nothing to wear, so he asked at the desk if there was anywhere around where he could shop for some swimwear and things, was given a few options, then went out into the great big world, a wad of twenties and hundreds in his pocket. Charlie thought, ‘It feels good to be wealthy. Very good.’ He’d always been comfortable, or maybe even well off, as a kid, and even as an adult, but this was different.

One thing he noticed as he was out and about was the fact that he was scoping out women, girls, ladies, the fairer sex. Since he wasn’t thinking about flying, staying alive, making sure his career stayed on track, etcetera, his mind started to wander back into other subjects.

Since meeting Nancy, just short of a couple of years ago, he just didn’t worry about his love life. They dated for a few months, fell into some sort of like, or infatuation, or some serious relationship, or maybe situationship, then after another year or so of him sensing her feeling like she was in a stagnant lifestyle, she started to grow a bit distant. One evening he ran down to the mall in Sumter to pick up a suit he’d ordered for a friend’s wedding. In an odd twist of fate, and speaking of odd, what are the odds that he would see his girlfriend walking the mall with one of her friends, Amanda something or other, each of them holding hands with obviously non-military young men.

Yes, he approached her. He asked her for the key to his apartment and told her to have a great life. As she was getting ready to cause a scene, while pulling the key off her key ring, he derailed her thought process. Charlie congratulated her boyfriend and told him he’d found a winner. Her scrambled eggs were to die for and as a matter of fact he’d just enjoyed them for breakfast at his place just a couple of days ago.

She turned beet red, knowing Charlie had just told the fellow he was doing whatever he was doing with someone else’s current woman. He took the key as she meekly held it between her thumb and forefinger, turned on his heels and left.

Charlie heard her say to him, as he was walking away, “We’ll talk later?” He raised his hand and waved without looking back. That had to be an uncomfortable situation for her, and for him, the guy, the new boyfriend, come to think of it.

In any case, the next few times she called, he ignored the calls. A couple of weeks later, Charlie’s aircraft flight of four F-16s was shipped out to Kuwait for a three-month TDY in support of some ground operations cleaning up in northern Iraq and Syria. He just got busy and forgot about her, if he remembered the timing correctly.

Oh, yes, after returning from his shopping trip with a couple of wild shirts and some swim shorts, he made it down to the pool, picked up a huge margarita from the bar and went out to enjoy some sun.

It wasn’t too awfully long, maybe half an hour, before a very cute young lady, in a very sparse suit, was standing over him, blocking the sun from his face. Her smile made him do the same.

“Hey, there. You alone?”

“Yeah, actually, I am. Hi. I’m Charlie.” He reached up to take her hand.

“Courtney. Nice to meet you, Charlie. Are you alone by choice?” She returned the little handshake giving him the opportunity to notice there were no rings or tan marks left behind on her left hand.

“No, Courtney, more so by circumstance. Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure. What brings you to the island?”

The conversation went on for about an hour or so. She was down from Virginia, ‘between positions’, she called it, just blowing off some steam and stress, getting ready for a new start. He told her he was just taking time off before heading back to civilization, himself. They each sipped on huge frozen margaritas, his lime, hers strawberry, then she said she had to meet up with a friend. She asked if he was busy later. Of course he wasn’t, so they shared numbers, made plans for a date, with no specific activities scheduled, but she assured him they’d find something fun to do on the fly.

As she walked inside, she pulled a coverup off the back of a chair closer to the doors and threw it over her shoulder. ‘What a view!’ Charlie thought. The girl was a doll.

He needed to hit the head, so he walked inside, and as he was turning to hit the little boys’ room, he heard someone talking around the corner. He was sure it was Courtney’s cute little voice. “Yeah, I’m sure of it. He carries himself like he’s well off. I got him to agree to take me out tonight. (Pause.) I’ll see what I can pull off. I’m sure he’s good for something. Cute, too. (Pause.) Cool, Lori. I’ll try to have him in the club around ten, so meet up with us there. (Pause.) Yeah, cool. Talk later, girl.”

He ducked into the men’s room quickly so she wouldn’t see him and took care of his business. As he stared down at the Sloan Valve Company urinal water regulation device, he thought about her conversation with ‘Lori’. It sounded like he was being set up for something, but what? He guessed it didn’t really matter much. He wanted to have some fun and as long as he didn’t drink from anything that the barmaids didn’t hand him, he wouldn’t worry about it. He could just imagine having half a billion dollars stolen from him due to his own stupidity. If he played his cards right, he was thinking, he could stay safe and still maybe… ‘We’ll see,’ he thought.

He decided to pull about a thousand more in cash from the one suitcase and take all the goods back down to the Bentley. He felt they’d be safer there, and now that he had counted everything, there was no need to have them in the room anyway. On the way down, the desk clerk asked if he was leaving.

“Oh, no. No, ma’am. These are just clothes and such I won’t be needing while hanging out here. I’m staying at least the week.”

“Good. We’re glad you’re staying with us, Mr. Compton. Have a good day.”

‘Well, at over six grand for the two weeks in the luxury suite, I’m sure they’re glad I’m staying,’ he thought to himself. Once he had the cases back in the boot of the Bentley, he went back out to the pool area, had a burger and another big slushy mug of wonderful, distilled cactus juice and such delivered and considered it dinner. It was early, and he was sure he’d have a snack later, so it made sense at the time.

Having plenty of sun, he went back up to the room and took a nap. Those margaritas weren’t exactly the weakest drinks, and except for a couple of cocktails with the embassy staff in Amman, he hadn’t had much liquor for the last couple of months.

A text from Courtney had them meeting up in the lobby of the Omni at eight o’clock. She was definitely dressed for the party. The girl was amazingly gorgeous. The short little shiny minidress, high heels, and a little clutch were about all he could see. He saw her face and her hair, too, after a couple of seconds, but ‘wow, was she a package’, he thought. She took his hand and out they walked right into an Uber that took them to a restaurant down the street. The building next door was obviously a nightclub, which she told him would be waiting for them after dinner.

Not being much of a dancer, he figured he’d try to eat light and keep up as well as he could. They ate shrimp cocktail salads and after another hour of conversation, they went next door where she had a table waiting for them. This was going to cost him a fortune, he could tell, but he had one, he figured, so what the hell.

Right on time, at ten o’clock straight up, another young woman showed up, kissing Courtney in greeting. The kiss was on the lips, not the cheeks. Telling. Very telling. “Charlie, this is Lori. She came down with me on my adventure. Lori, this is Charlie. He’s on vacation, too.”

Charlie took Lori’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Two beautiful women at my table. How marvelous. I’m a lucky boy tonight.”

“You have no idea,” Lori said.

He thought, ‘Oh, but I do, missy. Yes, I do.’ He kept his remarks to himself and had fun dancing and sharing stories and drinks with the ladies. He only had a couple, and once he’d left the table, didn’t touch the drink sitting there. He made sure they were close to empty so as not to raise attention to his preventative antics. Both of the girls were acting a bit tipsy. Looking back, he thought it may not have been an act. They were swilling Sea Breezes like they were the marks, and he was the bad guy. Around midnight, he started to let them know he was about danced out and wanted to head back to his room.

“Mind if we tag along, Charlie,” Lori asked.

“LORI, how rude!” Courtney exclaimed. “But… Do you, Charlie? Mind? I’d like to have a nightcap with my shoes off.”

Lori started laughing. “And I’m rude? Come on, Charlie. Take us to your room and ply us with liquor.”

Let’s describe these women to you. Petite, both of them. Courtney was a copper tinted redhead with an hourglass waist, a cute face, and a wondrous body. Her legs were gorgeous. Lori was a brunette with an athletic build, plenty up top, a firm middle, a bit thicker than her friend, but still slim enough to make her rear end pop and her muscular tanned legs look entirely edible.

The walk from the lobby to the bar, then to his room, with one of these girls on each arm, was like walking through a gauntlet of jealous eyes. Everyone was watching them. Not one man in that room didn’t want to be him at that point. He thought he saw a couple of women turning green with envy as well. His companions were that stunning.

Once in the room, the girls’ high heels came off, they set their drinks down on the dresser or nightstand, respectively, then curled their legs up under themselves and the conversation took off once more. The dresses were all the way up the girls’ thighs, and he was able to see every inch of their legs. Charlie was a self-admitted leg man. He was in hog heaven.

He excused himself to use the bathroom, taking his drink with him. That right there was probably the straw that broke the camel’s back. They knew he was being watchful and defensive. He was being conscious of dangerous possibilities and staying safe.

When he came out, Lori came clean. “You’re being pretty careful, aren’t you, Charlie?”

“I have to, Lori. I’m sorry,” Charlie told them. “I just don’t trust anyone anymore…”

Courtney interrupted him. “Don’t apologize. Mostly women, right?” He nodded. “What was her name, Charlie?”

“Nancy.”

Lori spoke up again. “Fuck Nancy and fuck our plans. Ever had sex with two horny lesbians, Charlie?” He shook his head. “Well, if you want to, you can tonight. We were going to try to talk you out of some spending money, thinking you were an easy mark, but now, just because you’re such a sweetheart, I for one would rather just have you make love to me.”

Courtney raised her hand. “Yes, Courtney?” he asked.

“Me, too?” the little redhead asked.

Charlie finished his drink and then stood and looked at each of them. “Well, why don’t you two get us started by showing me what lesbians do when they’re bored.”

The girls giggled, then stood, approached each other, started to kiss, and began undressing each other.

“Yes, girls, I’m a lucky little boy tonight,” he said, then watched them until they were naked. Lori pulled Courtney up onto the bed. Lori curled her finger, signaling him to approach them. He did, and they undressed him as well.

“Little boy, my ass!” Courtney exclaimed, as she took Charlie’s very hard erection into her mouth and sucked on the head, letting her teeth drag on the very edges of the frenulum.

“Oh, my. Pretty, too,” Lori said, taking turns with her. The one that wasn’t giving him a blow job would rise and kiss him, either on the lips or his chest, focusing on his nipples. That was a first for him. He hoped it wouldn’t be the last. ‘No wonder girls like their nipples sucked on,’ he thought.

“Come on, Court, lets clean him up and rock his world.”

She pulled Charlie into the shower by his hand, with Courtney following, never letting go of his pecker. They washed him, top to bottom, mostly in the middle, though, and he remembered feeling a couple of fingers making sure his asshole was clean. Another first for him. Oh, my, was his imagination rolling then!

Charlie returned the favor on each of them, cleaning them inside and out, a little more gently in the backside, but it was done at the urging of the other one he wasn’t working on at the time. He’d never been in there before, with anyone, and could admit it was the softest warmest smoothest feeling thing he’d ever experienced this side of a wet pussy. He thought, ‘I’m hooked.’

They finished up, each of the girls trying to keep their faces and hair out of the water, but had worked him over… All over. Out of the shower and drying each other, having fun at it, they traipsed back to bed where he was quickly laid back on the bed and the ladies went to work. He was familiar with eating pussy, and since he had just cleaned them both, and knew he’d done a thorough job of it, pulled Courtney over his face and proceeded to mouth her vulva while Lori was handling his stiff cock.

“You have a really nice dick, Charlie,” she said. “I’m not just saying that because it’s in front of me. I’ve seen a few, just a few, actually, and this one is really the best yet. Straight, pretty, not too long, like in the movies, but the longest I’ve ever dealt with, and not wide enough to hurt me, but thick enough to feel deep in my bones, I’m sure.”

Charlie couldn’t see what she was doing while she handled him, but he did feel her move. He felt her lift it up away from his stomach and lower herself down on it, slowly, but surely. She moved around on it until it was all the way in, then he raised his hands to her waist and felt her lean forward to start making out with her girlfriend.

“Charlie, please don’t worry about babies, or AIDS, or anything. We both have IUDs and are clean. You are the first guy either of us has been with since we got together. That was well over a year ago. We tested clean then, so I think we’re fine. Please trust us on this, but you aren’t in any danger from us.” That was Courtney.

“Oh, Jesus, Courtney, he feels so good inside. Oh, Charlie, you feel wonderful. She’s right, by the way. We can trade info, just in case, but we’re fine. You told Courtney you were alone and had been for some time, then just one woman before that, right?”

“Mmph, mmm hmmm.” He reached back, grabbed her by the ribs, and lifted Courtney’s pussy off his face. “Yes. One woman, for almost two years, but I caught her cheating, so we’re probably having sex with her boyfriend’s issues as well. Boyfriend or boyfriends, as the case may be. I need to get back to work.” The girls both laughed, then when he crossed the Rubicon and tongued Courtney’s anus, she shuddered. He followed up with a tongue jab, as far up her pooper as he could get, causing her to orgasm, squirming all over his face, releasing a bit of salty sweet liquid, and falling forward into Lori, screaming softly.

“God, Charlie, I think you killed my girlfriend.”

“I hope not,” Charlie said. “I’ll bet her pussy wouldn’t be nearly as wonderful if it was cold.” That got them both laughing.

Lori worked herself around his member, tickling her clit, with some help from Courtney until she too, had climaxed. He hadn’t yet, as he was really hoping to finish off in the little strawberry haired girl.

“Up on your knees, mister,” Lori said.

After he rose, Courtney lay down in front of him, a leg on either side of his, and stuck a pillow under her ass. “Let me have that thing, Charlie. It’s been a while, so please go slowly.”

She was tight. Very tight. He went slowly, entering her a bit at a time. Lori’s hand was under him holding his cock as he aimed, while his hands were on either side of Courtney’s chest. That put Lori’s forearm in his butt crack, rubbing her radius bone along his perineum and anus. Charlie thought the feeling caused by that act was extraordinary. He leaned down and kissed Courtney occasionally as he was working himself in, then leaned farther and kissed her neck. When he nibbled on her neck tendons a bit, she came, convulsing every muscle she had, he was pretty sure. Between her spasms, his dick sank to the bottom, causing her to gasp. He pulled her thighs up, her knees held by his inner elbows and gave her a few slow in and out pumps. That was his undoing, as after a down stroke, back up at the apogee, preparing to return into the heaven that was Courtney’s center, Lori licked his perineum, then tongued his asshole. Reflexively, he immediately slammed into Courtney and came like a rocket, shooting jet after jet of his come into her. His actions caused her to come again, as he could feel her quivering around his softening member while her spasms pushed her up against his pelvis.

“Sorry about that, Courtney, but your girlfriend just shortened my ability to maintain an erection,” Charlie said, trying not to laugh.

Both girls did laugh, though. Lori ran to the bathroom for a couple of hand towels, handing them to the others to clean up with. She smiled at Charlie and shook her head. He liked the look. He took her by the back of her neck, pulled her to him for a romantic kiss, then pushed her back on the bed, spread her legs, and despite her protests, ate the second delicious pussy of the evening. This one was a bit used, but tasted just fine and provided him with a salty liquid that made his dick hard again. He made sure she got to the top of the mountain twice, falling over both times, before he stopped. He had to stop. She was pushing him away, very adamantly.

“Stop. Too much. Too sensitive. Stop, Charlie. Thank you. That was nice.” She curled up, resting her abdominals and told Courtney, “Thank you for finding him, Court. He’s special.”

He rose to his knees, hard as a rock, still. Courtney wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and proceeded to jerk him off until he came on Lori’s stomach, then with one of her hands busy manipulating Lori’s pussy and the other one tweaking a nipple, licked his ejaculate off of her lover making Lori come yet again.

“GOD, ALMIGHTY, DAMMIT, STOP ALREADY!” she yelled, laughing as she curled up again, attaining the defensive fetal position. He leaned over and kissed her butt cheeks, then licked her butthole, taint, and pussy, as well. “UNGGGGGG!” she gasped.

“Ladies, thank you. Tonight, I did about a hundred things I’ve never done before. That butt thing could be addictive.”

They shared stories and talked about past lovers and sexual history for a bit, then fell asleep, only to wake when the sun rose and sent bright rays through the windows and onto the bed.

“Charlie, thank you for last night. That was fun, and very enlightening.”

“Thank you, Lori. It was for me, too. How much spending money were you guys needing, anyway. Gas money? Eats?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said. “The room is paid for, but we’re kind of short for lunches and stuff. Don’t worry about it, Charlie. I still have a little left on my credit card, and Lori still has a hundred or so in cash. We’ll be all right. We have to go home in a couple of days, anyway.”

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you some pocket money if you guys will agree to keep me company until you go home. I can pay for meals and what nots, too. I mean, if you want to. I don’t want to cramp your style. No pressure.”

Lori looked at Courtney and nodded. Courtney nodded.

Lori continued the conversation. “We don’t have any other plans, really. We just came down to play and relax. We both wound up getting a lot more than we bargained for when Courtney found you, young man. We’d love to. Courtney?”

They looked over to Courtney. “What she said!” Courtney said, and at that, she ran into the bathroom, I heard the tinkles, then the shower started.

“Thanks, Charlie. Sucks to be a gold digger who isn’t very good at it.”

“No problem, Lori. I know what it’s like not to be good enough at something, and I’d really enjoy y’all’s companionship.”

“Ditto. Come on. Let’s go keep her company.”

It was bittersweet for Charlie, watching them leave a couple of days later. He was completely exhausted by the time they left, both of them thanking him for the good times they shared. He handed Lori two thousand dollars in hundreds and twenties and told them to be careful driving home. The kisses he got from each of them were those of eternal lovers, but they all knew that was not something they should look forward to.

Chapter Seven - Jicarilla Flats - Taking Off for the First Time (Living in the Now)

The first thing I wanted to do, now that I could, was play. I had the Longitude fueled up, the house was locked, the area secured, and I wanted to ‘blow this pop stand’ as a man once said. The wind was out of the west, not too awfully strong, but that kept me from having to taxi all the way down the runway, then turn around in the widened touch down area. That worked well, but for now, I didn’t have to. It would be nice when the end-to-end taxiway was completed.

I made the short trip from the hangar to the runway, turned the plane at the end to face toward the west, looking out and up to a clear blue sky, smiled, and pushed the throttles forward. At just over a hundred and ten knots, plenty over the safety threshold, I pulled back on the yoke and just several seconds later cleared the hills on the eastern side of the National Park that stretched out from there. I didn’t veer too much for a couple of hours. I was heading to San Francisco to fuel up and then keep heading west to Kauai. I wanted to spend some time in and around Jurassic Park to think about how fortunate I was, and what to do about it.

I had booked a little house in Princeville, right on the beach, and was able to hang out there for a few days, unencumbered by any thoughts of the past. The future, now, that was a different story.

Anini Beach was busier than I thought it would be, but I was able to sit on the porch of the place I rented and just watch the world go by. A lot of the world went by, too. Most of the world, especially the female aspect, had a tendency not to cover their personal landscape much. Thong bottoms and skimpy tops were the norm. It made for fun people watching. Walking the beach was fun, as well. Hundreds of people, mostly locals, I think, were spending their time there.

It surprised me when two girls, most probably not twenty yet, got my attention and asked me to spread suntan lotion on their backs.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” the smaller one said. If she was five foot tall, I would have been surprised.

Her five-two girlfriend laughed. “You don’t get out much, do you?” she asked.

“No, ladies, I don’t.” I knelt between them and went to work. “I’m Charlie. What I’d really like to know is why you asked me to do this.”

“Hi, Charlie. Nice to meet you. I’m Laura, Laura Daniels, and this is Lana, Lana Kahele. As you can see, Lana is a local, and I’m a transplant from SoCal. My parents bought the house here several years ago, and they’ve been living in both places. When they moved back to California this time, they left me here to finish school. Lana and I live in my parents’ house just a few doors down from you. Did you know that?”

“No, I certainly did not. One would think I’d have noticed a couple of angels such as yourselves.”

“That’s why we asked you to do this. You aren’t a letch. We hope. You don’t seem like one, anyway. Do you have a companion?”

“No, hon, I don’t. I’m here on a sabbatical, just thinking and soaking up some maluhia from the surroundings.”

“Ahhh, the typical man, stealing peace from that which is in his grasp,” Lana said.

“He’s not that typical man, Lana. I can tell from here. Feel his hand. His hand gives me center. He has it in him. Not center, you know, that stability thing. That’s what it is. Charlie, spread your fingers and just press on my lower back, the heel of your hand on my spine.” I did as she said, just barely moving my fingertips and applying the gentlest of pressure. She answered with spasms throughout her entirety.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Mom said that would happen,” Laura said. “Charlie, Mom is an actress in a soap opera back home. She had a spiritual guide, and a masseuse, so she may know about these things, but she told me before she left that someday a man would touch me like that and make my body respond in a climax of emotions. The touch would be innocent, as in ‘non-sexual’, and the contact in a broad area would culminate in me having an orgasm. Are you married? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you want one?”

“Laura, STOP! You little slut! What the fuck are you doing? We don’t even know this guy and you’re asking him if you can have his babies? What the absolute FUCK?”

I broke it up pretty quickly. “Lana, chill. I’m not stealing anyone’s girlfriend, and I’m not looking for a brood mare.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my landlord and my roommate. And don’t get any ideas. This is NOT a package deal. Jesus!”

“Lana, stop, please. I’m just recalling what Mom told me, and Charlie pushed a button I didn’t even know I had. Normally for that to happen your tongue has to be…”

Lana interrupted her. “I just told him you weren’t my girlfriend. Wanna make him think I’m a liar?”

“Girls, please. I’ll leave you alone. I’m not here to ruin anyone’s relationship or to make a fuss. Lana, hold still while I finish, then I’ll be on my way. Laura, I’ll be on my porch drinking a beer in a little bit. If you want to talk, stop by. Please convince this one,” I massaged Lana’s lower back flesh with my fingers, receiving a giggle in return, “that I have no ill will toward anyone. Okay, girls, I’m gonna do your legs, then I’m leaving.” I did their legs getting an ‘Oooooh, nice’ from Lana, and a “Jesus, here we go again, uunnnngggghhh”, from Laura. Feeling her going through another orgasm with my hand on her thigh flesh gave me a bit of a stiffy. Her bottoms were soaked in the center. “See you kids later. Gotta run. Now! Nothing hurts a man worse than talking to a horny girl.”

They both laughed at my comment, and I left. Quickly. They watched me leave, grinning. More so Laura than Lana, but both of them did.

A couple of hours later I was doing exactly what I said, sitting on the porch of my rental drinking a beer, when Laura walked up the steps onto the porch. “Charlie, I wasn’t kidding. I know I’m only twenty-one and I have a lot to learn, but when you touched me, I felt something. I’ve never felt anything like that before. Not even from my chiropractor, and he’s a saint. My mother really did tell me that I would have an exceptional physical and emotional experience, maybe even an out of body thing, like where you look down and see yourself feeling or doing something? Anyway, …”

I interrupted her. “Laura, chiropractor? Seriously? At your age?”

“Yeah. I was a cheerleader, a flyer, and a gymnast at USC, and had a little mishap on the balance beam late in my sophomore year. It’s been two years or so now since the accident, and I’m pretty much better now, but I still go in once a month just to be sure. He’s down in Lihue. Nice guy, but I’d rather you put your hand on my back than him. You know what I mean?”

“No, honestly, I don’t, but I’d like to. Do you really feel a deep connection with me like that?”

“Yeah. Mom said when the right man, Mr. Right, if you will, touched me in a manner such as that, with no sexual animus at all, I would know he was actually Mr. Right, and not Mr. Right Now. I’ve not had a Mr. Right Now, because I wanted to test Mom’s theory and maintain Dad’s morals. So, now I’m in a quandary. There’s only one way to test the theory, and I’m afraid to, but maybe a kiss, or something like that, after a couple of beers, would suffice.”

“You, dear girl, are way too young to be drinking beer. Want a margarita or a glass of wine instead? I have a nice Moscato in there if you’re willing to settle.”

She laughed at my idiocy. “Sure. I can handle a glass of wine. Beer is kind of heavy for me anyway.”

Laura was five feet tall on the upside, as cute as any cartoon elven fairy, with bright red hair, a bust that much larger women would kill for, a cute little bubble butt, no waist at all, and very pretty legs. She weighed every bit of one-ten, being built like a shit brickhouse. She was wearing short shorts, or boy short panties, more probably, and a small, tight halter top made out of a thin, slinky looking fabric. It barely covered the bottoms of her ample breasts. She was barefooted, as was almost everyone around these parts, and while she still had gorgeous little freckles on her face and chest, she was tanned. Very much and very well-tanned, to be sure. I could see strap lines on her back where her suit normally sat but the halter didn’t.

“What would your mother say if she knew why you were sitting on my banister trying to gain insight to my ardor?”

“Probably, something like, ‘Don’t kill him when you orgasm’. Charlie, I can leg press 500 plus pounds. I could squeeze you in half like a python kills a monkey. If it comes to that, I’ll try not to, but who knows.” She giggled a cute little giggle that didn’t sound like a woman who could make me meet my end, but it was absolutely adorable.

“I’ll break the ice. I’m going inside for a beer and a glass of wine for my admirer, then I’m going to kiss her. Let’s see what happens.”

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with but a single step.”

She may rue the day she spoke those words to me, but for now…

Chapter Eight - Jicarilla Flats - Back to the Salt Mines (Before Paradise was Found)

Charlie made the quest, the excursion, the journey, back to his base and checked in with the orderly room. He let the clerk, Staff Sergeant Sylvia Ellis, the cute little redhead that ran the joint, and his commander, know he was back. He’d called Sylvia again a few days before and let her know he was ending his leave early and that morning he’d be signing back in.

Colonel Paul Jackson didn’t mince words. He was a great squadron commander and one of the best pilots in the wing, and certainly the best in the Seventy-Seventh Fighter Squadron. “Compton, we’re one plane short of a full load. Any good explanation?”

“No, sir.”

“I didn’t think so. What do we do now? Order another one?”

“No, sir. Not for me, anyway. I’ve decided to put in my papers and find a new occupation.”

“As what, Charlie? A crop duster. A metro shuttle pilot. God knows you’ve got the qualifications for that one.”

“No, Colonel, actually, I want to become a hermit. That is my desire. I came into a bit of an inheritance, and I just want to go off and be by myself for a while.”

“Are you sure, Charlie? That’s quite a big step. We can really use you, regardless of your reckless regard for our resources.” He laughed. “By the way, no one even thinks about holding that against you, Charlie. There are a few pictures of what happened, and the only negative comment I heard was, ‘Damn, he lasted that long?’ That was your wing commander, by the way. He’s apt to try to talk you out of leaving.”

“I understand, Colonel, but I just see another horizon, and I want to explore it.”

“Fine, but Williston wants you in his office this afternoon. If I were you, I’d have lunch first. It’s gonna take a while and it’s not gonna be fun. Sergeant Ellis!” Sylvia came running in. “Take Major Compton over to the O-club for a burger and fries. If anyone says anything, tell them the deputy wing commander is waiting for you all. Williston will see you afterwards. He’s got some God-awful budget meeting with CINC ACC until fourteen hundred or so. Escort him at all times, Sergeant Ellis. He is not to get away. Understood, Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it.”

“See that you do. Charlie, it’s been fun. Dismissed. The both of you! Dismissed.”

Once they had come to attention, saluted, turned an about face, and were in the outer office Sylvia told him, “Something is going on, but no one is talking. I know it’s not a bad thing, and no one is going to jail, since Force Protection wasn’t invited, but something big is afoot. You, sir, are in the pits.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, Charlie. Colonel Jackson knows I have a crush on you, whatever that’s worth, so he put me in charge of your sorry butt. All I know is I want one of those Mushroom and Swiss burgers. I’ve heard the lunch crew cooking at the O-club is awesome.”

“Thank you, Sylvia. If things were different…”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. I think so, but there’s more to it than that. I don’t think I’m alone in this world of mine. Let’s wait a couple of weeks then talk about it then, okay.”

“I can wait. I have been for a while now. Oh, Nancy called to see if you were actually dead, or if you made it out alive. I told her I was sorry to inform her that the Embassy in Jordan had called, and that you were just fine. I said if she hadn’t heard from you, it was by choice. I also told her we heard you were traveling back home in a Bentley. She called me a ‘Cunt’ and hung up the phone. I never did like her much.”

“No great loss. I think our relationship was waning long before I found her in the mall with Mr. Right Now. I called her a few days ago and she had changed her number. Done and done. I’m ready to move on. I think we both are.”

“Yes, Major, we both are.” She looked at him and smiled. “Oh, you meant you and Nancy! Sorry.” Her smile showed mischievous intent.

“Sylvia, be good. Not yet appropriate. Promise me you won’t get me fired before I quit.”

“I promise. But then? At least talk?”

“This time, it’s me that promises.”

The ride over to the Officer’s Club in the Bentley caused a bit of an uproar. There were not many half-million-dollar cars running around on Air Force bases, let me tell you. Charlie and his captor arrived, parked in VIP parking, as instructed, then entered the club and told the hostess they were to be seated with the deputy wing commander, Colonel Abbott.

Once greeted, and seated, Colonel Abbott turned to Sylvia. “Sergeant, forget where you are. Be yourself, and pretend you are a princess or something for a little while. Colonel Jackson advised us that you were to escort Major Compton, and that’s your job. Just be Sylvia for a while and forget your uniform. Sound good?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll just sit here and mind my own business, but can I get a beer and a Mushroom and Swiss burger? We peons hear they are the shit in this joint.”

Abbott started laughing. “I like her, Compton. I think I know where my next Chief Admin is coming from. Don’t run away, child. I have a job for you.” Sylvia nodded then faded into the background, even though she hadn’t moved an inch, and kept patting Charlie’s leg when he seemed to get concerned.

“Major Compton, Williston got a call from a gentleman in Amman, Jordan, last month. That call set us back a bit. Seems you are some sort of hero, and you didn’t even know it. We can’t talk about it, get that, Sylvia?” Sylvia nodded, waiting for her beer and burger. “But you solved a couple of problems by crashing your plane. A few, actually. From the bottom up, here they are:

“Number three, third, if you will, your plane was not upgradeable, due to its age. You old timers are fine in them, but a newbie, training in an upgraded model, wouldn’t have lasted through the first SAM, let alone two, and according to the radar, you almost won out over the third one. It was close, by the way.

“Second, the man you killed was an extremely bad man, wanted by a lot of different countries for a lot of different reasons. You, for whatever reason, whether it was self-defense, or maybe you are a CIA or Special Forces plant in the midst of the Air Combat Command and the Air Force, were sent to track him down, maybe even meaning to crash your plane two miles from his vacation home, took him out. Kudos to you. Lots of them from what the Chief of Station in Amman told us.

“First, and most importantly, he was in the process of initiating a strike, more accurately simultaneous strikes, against Tel Aviv, London, New York, Washington D.C., Seattle, and Los Angeles. It would’ve happened about a week from now. The operations would have made Nine Eleven look like a girl scout picnic. Can you imagine the Space Needle falling over into downtown Seattle?” Sylvia and Charlie both looked at him with a frightful expression. “Yeah, messy. You stopped that chain of events and set them back enough to allow us to compile enough intelligence to shut the whole thing down. The little bit of information you left with Jake Tyler in Jordan may be considered to be one of those… You know, ‘save the world’ type of things? In any case, I’m going to feed you, take you to the boss’s office, and let you receive a couple of awards that will sound nothing like what actually happened, but you and I and Sylvia here, and Tyler, and Williston, and the Secretary of the Air Force, and… Well, a few of us will know what really happened. Sylvia, the Major is a hero. You can say that, but none of the rest of that shit. Top Secret, Hush Hush, and all that rot. Got it?”

Sylvia turned green. Greener than her fatigues. Green, green. “Yes, sir.” She ate her burger and drank her beer, reaching over to touch Charlie’s leg now and again. The look in her eyes when she glanced at him was one of admiration, laced with awe, and fear. Fear? ‘Where did that come from?’ Charlie wondered.

“Well, it’s 1345. Let’s head over to the head shed. Can I ride with y’all? I had Phyllis drop me off.” Phyllis was the civilian secretary that ran the wing commander’s office. “I’ve never ridden in a Bentley before. I hear they’re quite nice.” We all laughed, as the understatement was quite humorous.

“Sure, sir, but the back seat isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, I mean except for the… Never mind. Yeah, let’s go, sir. I’ll stick Sylvia in the back with the champagne and the television.” That comment raised some eyebrows.

Charlie drove them over, Abbott in the passenger seat and Sylvia in the back. Charlie was still amazed that Sylvia was still there, considering the venue, but he thought he was catching on, bit by bit. She had checked out his place. The squadron commander said Sylvia was worried about him. Maybe she slipped and said something, or maybe they’re just really nice guys and can see something Charlie knew about, but was fighting against, due to the whole fraternization thing. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but she was smiling at him in the rear-view mirror.

The ceremony was short and sweet, only a couple of pictures were taken, and those were with the secondary citations. The primary, classified citations, would be held in the Library of Congress for a few millennia, then probably disposed of.

Charlie was awarded with the Air Force Cross, with a V for Valor, a Defense Distinguished Service medal with a V for Valor, and a promotion to Lieutenant Colonel, a field promotion signed by the President of the United States. These were all presented by the Under Secretary of Defense and the Secretary of the Air Force. He was also offered the opportunity to retire early, as in right now, at that grade, with full benefits as if he’d been in for the full twenty, if he so desired. They didn’t want that, but it was offered. In addition to all of that, the last mission he flew added a bronze oakleaf cluster to the silver one he already wore on his air medal.

What Major Compton thought was a MAJOR ass chewing turned into a love fest for a guy who really didn’t need one, but thought better of it and smiled, thanking his superiors for their recognition of what he felt he ‘had to do’. On the way out to his automobile after the presentation, he realized he only had 10 months time-in-grade as a major. ‘Wow,’ was his only coherent thought. He drove Sylvia back to the Squadron, with her holding his hand in both of hers.

Sylvia helped him fill out his paperwork, his request for separation, attached the waiver order from the Secretary, the Secretary of the Air Force, not Phyllis, then accompanied him out to his car when he was ready to leave. “Charlie, I know it’s not right, but I need to check on your place tonight to make sure no one has damaged anything.”

“Sylvia, I’m in shock right now, so if I say, ‘okay’, will that be enough, or not too much, or whatever?”

“Yes, Colonel. That will be fine. I know. I get it. I was there with you today. I will check on you in a few hours. I’ll bring something for dinner. Sit, relax, and don’t worry about a thing. Have a shot of your Globulin or whatever that old scotch is. I’ll see you this evening.” She discreetly kissed her thumb and pressed it to his lips, following that with a smile.

“Yes, ma’am,” was all he said, then he drove away.

He did as he was told, arriving at home, showering, putting on pajama bottoms, then pouring a couple fingers of Lagavulin. He sat in the living room of his apartment waiting for the doorbell. He sipped a few sips of scotch, let them settle on his palate, then after the fifth or sixth sip, lolled his head back on the sofa and since he was completely wiped out emotionally, and finally free from any worry or pain, he passed out.

Sylvia woke him with a soft kiss on each cheek, then his lips. He looked up at her glorious face, her beautiful smile, then down to her cleavage, framed in her sexy blouse, miniskirt, stockings, and heels. He pulled her to him by the neck and they kissed again. The electricity flowed. His entire being became an extension of his desire for her, but it was not all sexual. He needed her on an emotional level, and at that moment, he knew it. He needed her and wanted her in his life.

“Charlie,” she said to him softly, trying to keep him from being shocked or waking up too quickly, “You are going to be so much fun. We are going to have a blast taking care of you.” She pulled her skirt up to her hips, straddled his lap, and kissed him again. Deeply. She snuggled up to him, kissed his neck, and led him back to sleep again, with her to guide him.

Chapter Nine - Jicarilla Flats - The Possibilities of Twofers (Life in the Now)

“Laura,” I tried to break this to her gently, “I’m not really alone in this world. There is another woman who, when her time in the service is up, will be joining me as well. For a short time, at a minimum, and maybe, probably, more permanently. We want to see if we can co-habituate as a couple.” Laura giggled at my use of the word. “Her name is Sylvia Ellis, and we have not had a chance to do much more than talk and copulate a bit. Even that was constrained by time and propriety.”

Laura was leaning back against the banister on the porch, looking me directly in the eyes. There was no doubt about her sincerity when she told me, “Charlie, if you are that right man, the one my mother told me about, then I need to meet Sylvia.”

“Laura, what if there are others? I’m not saying there are, but there might be someone from my past that comes back to haunt me.”

“Charlie, if you are that right man, the one my mother told me about, then I need to meet them, too. It’s not me you’ll need to worry about. It’s them. I want to know if you are that man. If you are, I can help you solve your problems, not create more for you. Can you understand that? I want to be an asset, not a liability. If, and only if you are that man, then I can be that woman.”