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

by Barbara J Robertson

  Every day his suite was ransacked, and more cameras placed inconspicuously around his room. He came in, scanned, and flushed or crushed the tiny vid cams, sent a message, and went to bed. The crowd was beginning to thin out. Most of what was left to buy was the best of the best, or pure junk.

  On the fourth day, a man from Sukesh’s group wanted to see the XR-8. He told Mason he was the buyer’s agent. Mason refused to show the fighter to him, and told him to bring the buyer back in person. He was getting closer. The fighter was the best eye candy at the show. He knew Sukesh wanted it.

  No one came to him the next day to view the XR-8. Were they waiting for the auction? His orders were to wait until the last minute, then withdraw the XR-8 from the auction. The last day of open buying, Sukesh and his bodyguards finally came around to see the XR-8. Mason would only deal with Sukesh, and did not open the fighter’s hatch until the bodyguards backed off. He did his best used-shuttle salesman’s pitch, watching Sukesh. He was altered and transforming, and it showed plainly in his face. His dark Indian skin was almost entirely black now, and very shiny, like patent leather.

  Mason took Sukesh on board, and raised the hatch up half way. “If you are a qualified buyer, I am authorized to offer you and only you a test flight,” D’Alessandro said. He described the acceleration to hyper-space 12, and the vessel’s ease of handling. “It is very intuitive and responsive, like your favorite lover,” D’Alessandro teased, trying to peak his interest; it worked. Sukesh agreed to a test flight, and ordered his goons to wait for him in the lounge. Mason welcomed him to sit in the co-pilot’s seat.

  “As soon as we are clear of the SS6 perimeter, I’ll turn over the controls to you, Mr. Sukesh,” D’Alessandro said. Mason got SS6 tower clearance, disengaged the locks, and lifted off. He did not talk with the tower as he normally would have, just answered their questions, and tried not to sound like a military pilot.

  “What weaponry does the XR-8 come with?” Sukesh asked.

  “Just a few missiles and laser cannon. But it’s ready for any bombs or torpedoes made in the last five years. The Space Forces does not sell bombs or torpedoes, as you must know, Mr. Sukesh,” D’Alessandro answered. When they rose up from the dock, Sukesh put his hands on his co-pilot’s wheel in anticipation.

  “I want to launch it myself,” he said.

  “Absolutely, sir. Just another half kilometer higher, and we’re good,” D’Alessandro said. “Get ready to launch… the helm is yours.” Sukesh hit the launch button, and nothing happened; Mason had locked all the co-pilot controls. Mason tried to stab Sukesh’s forearm with an injector pen of tranquilizers, but failed.

  Sukesh turned to him in extreme anger. “How dare you! Do you know who I am? I am your master, D’Alessandro!” He was out of his seat in a flash. Sukesh and Mason fought inside the cabin, kicking, jabbing, and punching each other. Sukesh was incredibly strong, much more so than he was on the Hesperia. The fight was a brutal do-or-die battle. They knocked each other into the hull, the seats, cargo holds, and munitions storage racks. Not much room inside a fighter’s interior, even one as large as the XR-8. Sukesh connected with a left jab to Mason’s face, and tore his mask.

  “Who are you? Who is it who dares fight me? Show yourself now!” His fury doubled at the subterfuge, and Mason recognized his weakness. The angrier he became, the shorter his kicks were; more powerful, but shorter. The fight resumed, challenging both Mason and the hybrid to their absolute best fighting. It was a fight to the finish; no holds, kicks, or punches barred.

  “I am the man you see in your nightmares. You will see my face as you swing from the gallows!” Mason yelled. Sukesh’s face showed his rage—his dark eyes ablaze with hatred.

  “I will kill you over a century! You will beg for my mercy!” Sukesh yelled. He spun and kicked at Mason, but the kick was too short. Mason took the opening, and kicked Sukesh in his sternum, stopping him cold. Then he spun and head-kicked him, and knocked him down.

  Mason pulled out two tranq injection pens from his pocket, and stabbed both into his back. He pulled his cuffs out of the storage hold, and put them on Sukesh’s hands and feet. He sat him in a seat, buckled him in, and shot him with another injection pen, a sedative, this time. Then he got into the pilot’s seat and launched, drenched in sweat.

  The XR-8 sped on through the blackness of space, far away from SS6. Mason put the fighter on autopilot, and went to inspect his captive passenger. Sukesh showed only two visible wounds, one on his forehead, and a broken bone sticking out of his left hand. Mason tended to his prisoner’s wounds first, using the first aid kit, then checked himself out. The back of his neck felt warm and wet; another cut. He could feel it, but not see it well, so he swabbed it with antiseptic and gauze, and rubbed antibiotic gel where he felt a gash. Then he put a large bandage in the general vicinity of the gash, and hoped it would stop bleeding.

  His knuckles were red, cut, swollen, and the right hand knuckles were bleeding. He rubbed them with antibiotic gel and wound gauze around them. Removing the bright blue suit jacket, he felt like his left ribs were bruised, maybe cracked. He took off his shirt, and saw bruises on his torso, but no open wounds. He dropped his pants, and saw bruises again, big ones.

  Mason chuckled. He would have walked a long way in the rain to see a fight that good. Sukesh knew his mixed martial arts, all right. The hybrid possessed one hell of a right leg kick, as Mason’s body revealed. He kicked off his elevator boots, donned his flight suit, and put on his combat boots for the flight.

  The sedation pens would be what he used to keep Sukesh under. He was taking no chances with him whatsoever, and stabbed him with one sedation injection. The directions read “one shot every four to six hours.” Mason cut that to one every four hours. He put the leg shackles on Sukesh, and the neck shackle. He used good old fashioned duct tape to secure his torso and arms, wrapping them to the seat tightly. That should hold him. Hopefully.

  Punching the comm link, Mason called in. “Hi honey. I’ve got your package for you, and am on my way home. Forgot to check out. See you soon. D’Alessandro.” In a few minutes, he received the response to stop off at Mars Colony III first.

  Shit. Mason wanted to head home with his prize prisoner, and go to the Admiral’s Dinner. He knew his Admiral was getting her second star, and wanted to be there to see her receive it. Now, this delay. He checked the date and time. At hyper-space twelve, he would reach Mars in three days. So, who says we can’t fly faster?

  As the XR-8 increased her speed, Mason looked at the control panel—hyper-space thirteen, and climbing. The original test pilot was ordered to hold at twelve; he had no such orders. He goosed her to hyper-space 14, and held there. That would give him a few extra hours for whatever he had to do on Mars, he hoped. The two days went quietly. Mason could see the red planet coming up fast. Too early for a sedation injection for Sukesh; better tranq him. Take no chances.

  Within the hour, Mason landed on Mars Colony III base. Two unmarked ambulances roared up to the fighter as Mason opened his aft hatch.

  “We will take your prisoner, Major Mason. Come with us now, sir,” the Prime Marine Lieutenant told him. Mason took his uniform bag with him to the waiting ambulance. The corpsman tended to his head wound as he sat in the ambulance, looking at Sukesh. My master.

  “You have performed another miracle, Major Mason,” Madam Li Yun said, walking in with two other High Councilmen, neither of whom Mason knew. “All our expectations have been met. We will be your passengers to Houston, as soon as you are ready to leave, Major.” He asked for a few minutes to shower and change, and she nodded. The Lieutenant took him to the showers, and Mason took care of cleaning up and dressing in his mess dress Special Duty, minus the jacket and sword. He put his flight suit on over his clothes, and went to the room where the High Councilmen were waiting. They were driven to the XR-8 in the unmarked ambulance.

  Mason helped Madam Li Yun up the steep hatch ramp. She wanted the co-pilot’s seat. The two other High Councilme
n, Wong and Stevens, and their two Prime Marines buckled in to their seats. The XR-8 had been refueled, and her cockpit wiped clean of blood while he was away. The seat where he duct-taped Sukesh was cleaned off, too, with all tape residue gone.

  After receiving the Mars Control Tower permission, they lifted off, and launched towards Earth, two days and two hours before the Admiral’s Dinner and his wife’s promotion. They would just make it on time. Mason gunned the XR-8 at hyper-space 14 again. Madam Li Yun said nothing about their speed. She quietly sat and enjoyed the flight.

  At the Admiral’s Dinner, the speeches were made and the promotions handed out, including Admiral Mason’s second star, her promotion to Vice Admiral. She sat at her table, surrounded by her friends, the Senior Command Women officers, as well as Admiral Hanson, and Admiral Brandt’s husband, also an Admiral in the Medical Corps. Next to her was the empty seat she saved for Mason.

  “May I sit here for a moment, Admiral Mason?” Admiral Worthington asked.

  “Yes, of course, Admiral Worthington. I was saving it for Major Mason, but it appears he won’t be joining me tonight,” she said disappointedly.

  “That’s what I’ve come to speak to you about, Admiral Mason,” he said, and the other women officers turned to listen. “I just found out he was ordered to hover for more than an hour, and refused permission to land in Houston. He has just landed, and is on his way here. I apologize to you profusely. I know this evening has been a great disappointment to you, and Major Mason, as well. Hopefully, that will change very soon.”

  “Thank you for the wonderful news, Admiral Worthington,” she said, her face glowing.

  In a few minutes, the music stopped as a very loud “A-ten-shun!” was called. Everyone stood at attention, as Chief High Councilwoman Madam Li Yun entered, on Major Mason’s arm, followed by the other two High Councilmen and four Prime Marine officers. Madam Li Yun walked directly to Admiral Mason.

  “Please accept our apology for this delay. Major Mason flew us here in time, but was refused permission to land.” She let go of his arm. “We would like you and Major Mason to join us tomorrow for dinner, where we will discuss your keynote speech at the High Council meeting in Brussels, Admiral Mason.” Li Yun smiled at her.

  “We would be honored, Madam Li Yun,” Admiral Mason graciously accepted. Li Yun left with her party towards the private rooms in the back of the Officers’ Club. Everyone sat down, and the music resumed.

  “Well, Major Mason, quite an entrance, I must say,” now 2-star General Costa said, smiling. “Even I am impressed!” Mason grinned at her, and bowed his head slightly after saluting the table of Admirals and Generals.

  “Major Mason, you’re late. When I tell you to be here at eighteen hundred hours, I expect you to be here a half hour early!” Admiral Worthington said. All heads at their table turned to observe, and Mason snapped to attention. “How the hell can I get rid of this Medal of Valor if you are not present?” The Admiral smiled broadly, and pinned another prestigious medal on Mason’s chest, saluted him, and said in a low voice, “Congratulations on the capture of our most wanted traitor, former Lieutenant Sukesh, Major John Mason. Now sit and enjoy yourself!”

  “Mason, what did you do to get the Medal of Valor?” Admiral Hanson asked, after Admiral Worthington left their table. She did not hear the entire congratulations from him.

  Mason squatted down beside her and said, “I captured Sukesh, Admiral Hanson.”

  “What! Why didn’t you kill the bastard! After all he’s done—after what he did to us! He deserved to die!” She ranted, her face visibly disapproving.

  “Those were not my orders, although I would have preferred it that way, as well, Admiral Hanson,” Mason admitted.

  “You should’ve done it anyway,” she said, matter-of-factly.

  Mason congratulated General Costa, new Admiral Westerly, and Admiral Mason on their promotions, and sat down. Admiral Brandt looked at him, and then stood to examine his head more closely, paying special attention to the red wound on the back of his head.

  “You have been very naughty again, Major Mason. Those implants were new last month! Do you think you are my only patient in Houston? You must have those replaced tomorrow!” She sat down and keyed instructions into her wrist comm link. “Such a bad boy! You are very naughty, very naughty, indeed!” The women at the table all laughed at her tirade.

  Mason danced a slow dance with his Admiral, the newest 2-star Admiral in the Space Forces Medical Corps. “You look more beautiful than ever, Admiral Mason,” he told her. “You stay the same: beautiful, poised, and confident. You drive me wild!” He confessed.

  “John, I missed you so much. Are you all right? Where have you been? You are injured,” she said, watching his movements, dancing slowly.

  “I’ve been nowhere; and to hell and back. Now, I’m with you, and that’s all that matters to me,” he said. He smiled and twirled her again, as the song ended.

  They sat down with their friends to talk. Admiral Hanson belted the remainder of her bourbon, and said, “I’ve drunk just enough bourbon, now. Admiral Mason, I’d like to dance with your husband.” She took Mason by the hand to the dance floor. He made sure to keep a respectable distance from her, so his wife wouldn’t get jealous.

  “What they did was unfair to you,” she began. “They had no right. They used you, John.”

  “But I wanted to capture Sukesh, Admiral Hanson. He is no Yellow Man. He is not worthy. He is evil and corrupt. Look what he did to us. The ONE do not do that to unwilling prisoners,” Mason said to her, his eyes burning.

  “You could have been killed, John. And the Joint Chiefs would have just shook it off, and got another “expendable asset” to try again later. You must realize this, John. Neither you nor I matter to them,” Admiral Hanson affirmed. “Remember this, John: You matter to the ones who love you,” she softly said, her eyes getting red. They squeezed hands in silent acknowledgement.

  When the song finished and they walked back to their table, Admiral Hanson asked, “Where did you capture him?”

  “SS6,” he answered. “Five days ago.”

  “Five days? You can’t get here from that station in five days!”

  “At hyper-space 14, you can,” Mason said, smiling very broadly.

  “14? They gave you the XR-6?” She asked, raising her eyebrow.

  “No, Admiral, the XR-8,” he replied, holding the chair for her.

  “You son-of-a-bitch!” She laughed out loud. “They gave you the new XR-8, and you broke the test flight record!” She back-handed his arm.

  “A new fighter, a new haircut, and another prestigious medal, Major Mason. What is your next trick?” General Costa asked, with a cocky grin.

  “My next trick is to be home for Christmas with my beautiful wife and my family,” he answered quickly. Mason’s wrist comm link beeped. He saw a deposit confirmation from his payroll account: $100,000 “Hazard Bonus.” Sukesh will be pissed off about the low bounty, Mason mused.

  Mason danced with new Brig. General Swenson, and congratulated her. After that dance, Mason sat down next to his Admiral. He still wore his gloves to hide his raw knuckles, but blood was seeping through. Admiral Mason noticed, so he took his white gloves off, and placed his hands in his lap under the table.

  “I see everything is normal, John,” she quietly said, looking at his hands, then at his head.

  “Pretty much. I think I may have a cracked rib. Or two,” he whispered. “But everything else is fine, Admiral Mason.” He smiled irresistibly at her.

  “Then, please dance with me, John,” she said. It was a slow dance, dreamy and melodic, perfect for them.

  “All I want is to be in your arms,” he whispered, dancing her across the floor. She blushed, lowered her head, and squeezed his hand.

  “I need you so much, John,” she whispered in his ear.

  “Then let’s leave after this dance. I’m done here,” he said. Her eyes were twinkling. His black hair and designer cut made him loo
k even more handsome and sexy.

  “Just take your Medal of Valor and leave, is that it, Marine?” She asked, and moved closer to him.

  Mason smiled very big for her. “I’ll take my Medal of Valor and my Vice Admiral and leave.” It was all she could do to resist kissing him in front of the entire club of officers.

  After the slow dance, Admiral and Major Mason bid Happy Holidays and congratulations to their friends, and called for her shuttle. Mason flew them home quickly. She unlocked their door, and saw the house dark, and quiet. Mason pulled her into him and kissed her deeply, the kiss he’d been dying to give her all night long. He picked her up in one motion and quickly went to their bedroom and locked their door. He carefully took off her mess dress jacket with her new, second star, and placed it over her dressing table’s chair.

  She removed his Medal of Honor and Silver Star, and gently laid them down. Then she hung up their uniforms while he showered. When Mason removed his robe to lie down, Rachel saw his body. “John, you’re bruised everywhere! Roll over and let me see your back,” she said, very concerned. Big bruises covered his back and thighs. “How many men did you have to fight?”

  “Only one man: Sukesh, the reptilian hybrid, very advanced in his transformation, with the strength of two men, and great speed. We fought inside the fighter. We knocked each other into its hull, the seats, racks and rear arms mountings. We both got banged up a lot. I hope it feels better before the High Council dinner, Mistress Admiral opening-keynote-speaker,” he acknowledged her with a big smile.

  Rachel kneeled and caressed him. “Your haircut is not regulation, Marine. And this trimmed moustache is far too sexy. We’re going to have to do something about it,” she said, running her finger over his moustache, with a cocky grin on her face.

  “Like what, my Mistress Admiral?” he asked, licking her finger.