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

by Barbara J Robertson

  “We don’t have wedding rings,” she said to John.

  “I have them. I’ll show you,” he said, and he left for the safe deposit box. He returned with his last blue box, and handed it to her. “I picked them up with your engagement ring, Rachel. If you like them, we can get married tomorrow,” Mason said, terribly excited.

  Rachel’s ring was encircled with perfect pear-shaped diamonds. His was plainer, with one diamond in the center, set in low. Platinum, of course. “They are perfect, John.” She smiled and took his hand.

  The manager checked his comm tablet. “We can have the ceremony at three o’clock. How does that sound?”

  “Three o’clock, on the beach. What do you say, Rachel?” Mason suggested, his eyes twinkling.

  She replied, “I’ll have to get a new dress and shoes, and a manicure, and…”

  “Whatever you want. We’ll take three o’clock, with a priest. Roman or American Catholic?” Mason asked.

  The manager checked his com tablet again. “Father Flynn is available. He’s Roman Catholic.”

  “Flynn is my Mother’s maiden name,” Rachel said in amazement.

  The manager smiled. “Then three o’clock tomorrow it is, with Father Flynn. I’ll make the arrangements and your spa appointments, madam. Our car will take you to a few dress shops afterwards. Will that be all?”

  “Photos, we’ll need photos. Lots of photos,” Mason said, smiling at his bride. They dined, drank champagne and danced with their hearts and heads in the moonlit clouds.

  Mason took her to the spa the next morning, and he went for his run. He could have run all day, he was so elated. He went upstairs to shower and change. He chose the gray suit he brought and not worn yet. Mason knew he should leave before she returned; it was bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony. He made sure he had the rings, and slices for tips. He went downstairs to wait at the hotel bar. 12:45p.m.

  “Got any synthehol?” Mason asked the bartender. Its buzz only lasted an hour or so.

  “Yes, but we also have the real thing. Why drink synthehol?”

  “Because I need a drink now, and I want to be sober by 3p.m.,” he answered honestly.

  The direct assault to his taste buds was a shock. He hadn’t drunk that crap in over a year. But he wanted it today, of all days. Mason belted it down, feeling it calm his nerves. Was Rachel as nervous as he was? He needed one more, and that was his limit. It was 2p.m.

  The hotel manager found him, and advised him to be in the lobby in fifteen minutes. Okay, so maybe one more synthehol, nasty shit that it was. 2:25p.m.

  Mason was taken via limo shuttle to the beach, where an arched trellis was erected, and covered in beautiful tropical flowers. He waited beyond the trellis for Rachel. He met Father Flynn, who was wearing a white and gold vestment. The sun was out, a few puffy clouds, and a very gentle breeze was blowing, barely moving the petals on the trellis flowers. Mason was stone-cold sober. He still had the rings.

  The white limo shuttle pulled up, and the chauffer opened the door. Rachel emerged in a white and silver gown, strapless and beautiful. She was truly radiant, smiling lovingly at him. Her escort led her to the trellis, and she walked through it to stand beside him. Father Flynn was brief, kind and reassuring, and he smiled benevolently at them. Rachel promised to love, honor, and obey him; Mason promised to love, honor and cherish her. He pronounced them husband and wife, and the camera girl caught every nuance of their kiss. It was perfect.

  Their private wedding dinner was in the gazebo, just off the main floor of the restaurant. They danced with each other in the moonlight, completely enraptured and in love. Upstairs, a new bottle of champagne was waiting for them.

  They took their time making love, teasing each other, touching, caressing, and tantalizing each other’s body. Mason held her tightly, as he kissed her over and over, giving her deep, slow strokes her body craved, satisfying her and him time and again. They made love until they were spent, and fell asleep in each other’s arms, in total bliss.

  XII

  On their last morning, they called Rachel’s parents. “Momma, Daddy; John and I were married yesterday on the beach, here in Costa Rica.”

  “You did what?” Caitlin asked, shocked.

  “Oh, my baby girl, that’s wonderful!” David said, his eyes tearing up.

  “You are the first to know,” Mason told them.

  “What about Victor? What about your son?” Caitlin asked her.

  “We decided it would be best to tell him in person when we come home this afternoon,” Rachel said. “Look at my rings, Momma! John designed them.” She held up her hand in the vid comm link. She felt so happy, and it showed.

  “Who married you, Rachel?” Caitlin demanded.

  “Father Flynn, Momma,” Rachel answered. That should be her last objection.

  “God bless you both. You’re truly a beautiful couple,” David said.

  “Thank you for letting us know first, my child,” her Mother said gratefully.

  The transport ride was much faster going home, or so it seemed to them. As it rose higher and higher above the platform, Rachel watched Costa Rica get smaller by the second.

  “Can we come back someday, John? It is so beautiful. I’ve never felt so free, so uninhibited, so unburdened,” she said, her eyes tearing. “Paradise!”

  “Of course, Rachel. It’ll be here waiting for us,” he assured her. They were in Houston in a couple of hours. They dropped off their bags and went to get Victor.

  “Mommy! Mommy!” Victor cried, and hugged her tightly. “John Mason!” He exclaimed, jumping into his arms. They went to dinner, and Mason treated everyone to steaks to say thanks for handling Victor while they were gone. They went to the Baines’ apartment, and Rachel said they had wonderful news to share.

  “Victor, John and I were married yesterday,” she told him. The Baines’ faces lit up.

  “That’s wonderful, Rachel! Congratulations!” Amanda said.

  “I was worried you were waiting too long, young man,” Eric said, smiling at Mason.

  “Me too,” Mason admitted.

  “Does that mean John Mason will be staying with us now, Mommy?” Victor asked her, putting his arms around her neck.

  “Yes, Victor. He is my husband now. He will be staying with us,” she explained.

  “That’s good. Will you still be kissing my Mommy, John Mason?”

  “Every chance I get, Victor,” Mason answered, smiling at Rachel. They talked a while longer, and the news went over better than Rachel hoped. They went home, and gave Victor all his presents from Costa Rica.

  They settled into a routine very comfortably, as there were few daily changes for Rachel or Victor. Mason, however, was required to complete six months’ long range fighter training in one week. He figured the Joint Chiefs wanted him to fly to his missions at hyper-speed 8 or 9, instead of 3 or 4, like the cruisers went. He would not be piloting the fighters solo for his first few flights, he was told. He would be the co-pilot, just to “spell” the pilot. By the end of his vacation, Mason knew the technical specs well.

  Mason spent 5a.m.–10p.m. in training for seven days, but he passed. He ran home like a school boy and told Rachel, “I passed! I passed! They gave me my wings!” Mason showed her his wings, and she tried to be happy for him. She knew those wings meant she would see less of her husband. They would have to announce their wedding soon, before he got sent off God-knows-where for who knew how long. Mason’s comm link beeped; it was Colonel Tyrone.

  “Sorry to call so late, Mason, but you are to report to my office at 0-five hundred hours tomorrow morning. Class A’s. And congratulations on your wings. Tyrone out.” They’d probably brief him and ship him out the next morning. Mason left a message for Omar to call him late in the afternoon tomorrow—urgent.

  The next morning Mason arrived early at Colonel Tyrone’s office. Tyrone came in and took Mason to see the Commandant, and was briefed in full on his mission. He was being sent on Operation Clean Sweep,
to clean up Titan One. The Yellow Man now owned that space station, and the Joint Chiefs wanted it back.

  The expected mission duration was two months including travel time to and from Titan One. His squad would have to secure the space station while a Space Forces battle cruiser and its support group docked and took over. They had no idea how many men were still present on Titan One, but they wanted as many captured as possible, with as little structural damage to the space station itself as feasible.

  Mason got all the details and documents and Colonel Tyrone said, “I’ve assigned an aide to help get your office in order while you’re on this mission. Take the remainder of the day off after you meet your aide, Sergeant Du Monde. Pack up and report here at 0-six hundred tomorrow, utilities only, weapons belt and side arm. Dismissed.”

  Mason found Sergeant Natalie DuMonde. Rachel would have to be introduced to her right away when he came home. She was French, with a heavy accent, curly hair and bite-me cute. Lethal legs, too. Why me? His jealous wife would have to become Sergeant DuMonde’s best friend, or his ass will be grass. Mason put a few personal things on his desk: a photo of his Admiral with Victor, Sarah’s family photo, and his Prime Marine award.

  He called Admiral Baines to let her know he had the afternoon free; they picked up Victor early and headed home. Mason pulled out all of his utilities from the new batch of officer’s uniforms he’d ordered. He also got a mesh full-body nano fiber suit, to repel laser blasts. Lots of new socks and underwear, and new combat boots; weapons belt and side arm. He was ready.

  Rachel played with Victor while he went through his financials. He got everything ready for his call with Omar in ten minutes. Mason asked Rachel to meet him in the den. Mason put the call on the big wall vid screen, and closed the den door. “Omar, I have some instructions for you. This beautiful lady is my new wife, Rachel. I want her informed as to the status of my accounts. Here is her information.” Mason sent over her ID number and full name, and their marriage license number. “I want my trading account changed to a joint account with her name on it, and for her to have full authority on that account going forward. Got it?”

  “Got it. Hello, Mrs. Mason, I’m Omar Nassir, your financial advisor.”

  “Hello, Omar,” Rachel said curiously. She looked up at her husband.

  “I also want an account set up for my stepson, Victor, like Angela’s and Johnnie’s accounts.” Mason took his calculator out. “Oh, hell, Omar; just put 25 in it. His Father was the math genius, not me. Here is his info.” Mason sent over little Victor’s ID and information. “Do you have any 10yr URE bonds?”

  “Yes, new issues at 8.65%.”

  “Okay, so split the 25, half in the ten year, and the rest between Nestles and GE. And put 100 shares of Hyundai in there, too, Omar. Got it?” Omar nodded, and Mason continued. “Now, I’m sending you $250. I want a new account for Mrs. Mason in her name, for $25. Put the other $200 in a 2 month certificate in our trading account until I come home. I need this done now. I’m shipping out tomorrow. And put Mrs. Mason down as primary beneficiary on my separate insured account, and my life insurance. And get one of those life policies for her, too, and take the premium out of our joint account.” Rachel sat there, listening.

  “We need your retinal scan and palm print for secure identification, Mrs. Mason. Would you step closer to the vid screen, please?” Kira asked. She scanned Rachel, and waited. “Excuse me, Mrs. Mason, but will you be changing your name?”

  “We have not yet made the announcement of our wedding. We eloped,” Rachel divulged, reaching for Mason’s hand. “Mason is fine.”

  “Send her the full Portfolio Analysis Report, Omar. She has her PhD in Molecular Biology. She’ll get it,” Mason said, smiling at Rachel. “Did I miss anything, Omar? Kira?” Mason asked.

  “You covered it all, John. I’m proud of you,” Omar said, smiling. “We just need your e-sig and palm print.” Mason went to the vid screen and got scanned.

  Mason enquired, “Omar, for Mrs. Mason, what’s the account balance like today?”

  “$1.26 million in your joint account; $25k in her personal account; $2.5 million in your separate insured account; plus the kid’s accounts. The total is three million, seven hundred eighty-five thousand,” Omar said. “Plus the life insurance death benefits.”

  “Okay. Any questions for Omar, Rachel?” Mason asked. She shook her head.

  “You’re good to go, John. Have a safe trip,” Omar finalized.

  “Thanks, Omar. Mason out.” He gathered his com tablet and papers, and said to Rachel, “I wanted to make sure you were all set up, you know, just in case, Rachel.”

  “This is all real, John? I never dreamed,” she asked, amazed at his prosperity. “I had no idea. I think I’m in shock.”

  “I’m in love,” he said, and kissed her again. “Now, use your $25k however you’d like, whenever. Spend it, save it, it’s yours. A wedding present, Rachel, just for you.”

  She began to cry. “It’s been difficult this past year, since Victor died. Now this, John? It’s a saving grace, that’s what it is,” she said softly, and reached for his hand.

  He took her hand, and asked, “He bought life insurance for you, right?”

  “Yes, and I bought this house with it, so Victor and I would always have a home. We initially rented it,” she disclosed to him. “But going from two incomes to one has not been easy.”

  “And now, you have my paltry Second Lieutenant’s pay to add to that,” he said, laughing. “Call Omar next week and have all the house bills set up on auto-pay. Don’t worry any more. You have me, now, to help you,” he said. She was still in shock. “Let’s have bourbon, Rachel.”

  She got their drinks and they sat on the couch and talked. Victor came out to play on the floor by his Mother. Mason explained, “My Mother taught us to be disciplined savers. I’ve always put my battle bonuses aside, and lived off my regular pay. Since seventeen, I’ve lived on ships and space bases; no apartment or house, no furnishings to buy. So I saved as much as I could.”

  “When Sherrie and I married, Dave told me to buy life insurance for both of us. I didn’t think she needed it, but he insisted. When she died, I got the life insurance. I keep that money separate, and invest the interest. I spent a chunk of my interest this year on new suits and our vacation. After what I’d been through, I decided I deserved it, and shared it with you,” he revealed.

  “You certainly did deserve to do something nice for yourself, John. You deserved more than Earth Command gave you, however much it was.” She poured more bourbon for them. “And I can’t tell you how much fun I had, sharing your vacation with you. Not to mention the grand finale,” she said, looking at her left hand. “I never dreamed you had this up your sleeve, John.” She smiled at him, and put her head on his shoulder.

  “To be completely honest, I did plan to propose to you in Costa Rica, on our last day or two. But I knew nothing about their special waiver of the 30-day waiting period. Everything just seemed to flow along perfectly for us, Rachel,” he said, as they enjoyed their bourbon. Mason put all his papers away and got ready for bed.

  “Can you tell me where you’re going, or what you’ll be doing?” She asked, as she got into bed with him.

  Mason shook his head. “The same stuff I always do, Rachel. But I have a magic weapon I’ll use as my protection I never had before,” he said, smiling.

  “What magic weapon?”

  “Your love,” he answered, and took her in his arms. They made love several times, trying to give each other enough to last for the time he’d be gone. In the morning, he made love to her again when he saw the fear in her eyes.

  “I’ll be in my own long range fighter with other Space Marines, part of a full squadron. We’ll jump to reach our mission site early, get our jobs done, and jump home. I’m hoping to be home with you at least two weeks early, Rachel. I’ll do my best, I promise.” He was sincere with her, trying to comfort her.

  “Just come home to me safely, J
ohn. Just come home to me,” she said. Mason went in and kissed Victor good-by, and gave Rachel a big kiss at her front door. He took his gear and tossed it in the waiting taxi shuttle, waved, and was gone.

  XIII

  The squadron for Operation Clean Sweep was assembled at Earth Command Central’s main hangar. The long range fighters were all flight ready, provisioned and fueled up, sixteen big war birds ready for action. Each fighter included a Space Marine pilot, a co-pilot, and a navigation officer; their passengers were four Space Marines in each war bird. The fighters were armed to the max, complete with torpedoes, bombs, a full load of missiles in various sizes, and laser cannon.

  Mason was the only Prime Marine attached to the squadron. He would work up to a certain point with his Space Marines, and then carry out his orders directly from the Joint Chiefs. Upon completion of those specific directions, he was to rejoin his Space Marines, and complete their joint mission.

  The squadron would “Jump,” meaning fly like bats out of hell from one base to the next, refuel, and take off again. It normally took a space vessel one month to make Titan One, observing the hyper-speed 1 rule inside the solar system. They would make it in 1 ½ weeks, assuming all went as planned. The Joint Chiefs estimated it would take two weeks to secure Titan One and capture the Yellow Man’s agents, currently in control of the space station.

  Titan One was unique among space stations, in that it was a space station and a space base, together. It was huge. Its central hub housed its power plant, living quarters, and dozens of franchised businesses. According to rumors, no ship was given permission to dock there anymore. The Joint Chiefs assumed Titan One was now the central “transformation site,” where the Yellow Man’s agents were genetically altered into reptilian hybrids.

  Titan One featured the usual docking wheel where large ships would dock and lock alongside, and the people and goods were moved on and off ships. But, since it was also a space base, it featured special modifications for fighters. The entire top of its solar panels section could be utilized as a landing site for long and short range fighters, with a load maximum of ten fighters on the platform. The platform would be lowered inside the hub under its dome, filled with pressurized air, and the pilots could easily leave their fighters and walk into the station.