Bought His Life
Bought His Life Copyright © 2014 Aleka Nakis and Tia Fanning
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Bought His Life
By Aleka Nakis and Tia Fanning
Resplendence Publishing
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www.resplendencepublishing.com
Gems of Romantic Fiction
Bought His Life
Copyright © 2014 Aleka Nakis and Tia Fanning
Edited by Delaney Sullivan and Jason Huffman
Cover Art by Les Byerley
Published by Resplendence Publishing, LLC
1093 A1A Beach Blvd, #146
St. Augustine, FL 32080
Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-786-5
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Electronic Release: July 2014
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.
Captain Jack Carter and OSS Agent Lawson Grey are having a rough morning. Their mission was fairly straightforward: fly back in time and assassinate Adolph Hitler. However, their plane catches on fire, their co-pilot is lost, and instead of going backwards in time, Jack and Lawson find themselves thrust forward and stranded in the year 2015. And just when they thought it couldn't get any worse, they helplessly watch as two women purchase the last of their personal possessions as left behind in 1944.
Emily and Kimberliegh Mitchell are having a great morning. An estate sale of a deceased Navy admiral allows the women to find and purchase some interesting WWII era memorabilia. However, unbeknownst to the ladies, they have just bought the personal possessions of two time-stranded men...the only link to these men's past lives, their secret mission, and the only material left to prove their identities. But retrieving these important items from Emily and Kimber is a mission Jack and Lawson are determined to complete.
To Judi McCoy and Teannette Major.
Thank you for the mentorship and the friendship.
Always.
Chapter One
Bermuda Triangle, 1944
Captain Jack Carter sucked in a cold breath and squinted against the growing dark. Storm clouds suffocated his plane, and the visual elements hindered any attempt at true navigation. He called to his copilot for readings when a series of jerky ticks in the altitude gauge flashed in his peripheral vision.
“We’re losing altitude! Forty-four hundred! Forty-three!” co-pilot John Kelsey Jones shouted over the sound of rushing air and groaning metal. “Both compasses are gone. The instruments are spinning like mad.”
“Spot the tunnel,” Jack instructed. “We need to enter that damn tunnel.”
“No tunnel in sight,” OSS Agent Lawson Grey announced. “We’re being swallowed by—”
The navigational panel gave a loud pop. Sparks erupted, and the indicator needles, those that still moved, spun erratically.
“The dials are gone, sir.” Jones waved his hand in the air to clear the smoke. “Fuel, oil, compasses…everything. The readings are off the charts!”
“Hang on, everybody! Got to keep her nose up!” Jack tugged on the control column, hoping to buy enough time for his crew to get clear before the inevitable disaster. “Grey? Analysis?”
Grey hissed out a breath. “No idea! The damn plane has a mind of her own, and so do these blasted instruments—shit! They’re burning up!”
Jack hunched over the panel, flicked a few more switches and shook his head. “Get out of here. Both of you. That’s an order.”
Jones caught the chute Grey tossed at him and nodded for the agent to throw the next one.
“Go,” Jack ordered.
The copilot lunged back into the cockpit and shoved the second parachute in Jack’s hands.
“Put it on, sir.”
Jack tossed it aside, attempting to avoid unnecessary contact with the sparks shooting off the panel. “Get out of here, son. I’ll hold her steady as long as I can.”
“Negative, sir.” The young flyer grabbed Jack’s shoulder. “We went into this together, we’re going out together.”
Glaring, Jack ground out a curse. “Let it go, boy. Save yourself. Complete the mission.”
“Sorry, sir, no can do.” John Kelsey Jones stood his ground in the havoc of the flight’s failure. “I’m not leaving without you.”
“He’s right, Captain,” Grey yelled over the clatter. “It’s all of us or none of us.”
Jack reached for the pocket watch that had become the symbol of their flight—their lucky charm—but his fingers met empty space. They hadn’t been allowed to bring personal possessions on the mission.
Could use some of that luck,
Jack thought.
Jones nodded to Grey, and Jack had no choice but to allow his crew to haul him out of the command seat. Slipping and sliding, the men dragged him up the steep grade to the exit, then unsealed the door. Wind whipped through the aircraft. The cockpit ignited in flames.
Sticking out his head, Jack immediately ducked back inside and made the sign of the cross. They were over water, and from what Jack could tell through the thick smoke, the ditch kit was now on fire with the rest of their supplies.
Jack locked gazes with his men. “Just like in training,” he barked, shrugging into a parachute. “Jones, you first.”
The young officer gave a thumbs-up and jumped.
Jack gestured at the OSS agent. “You’re next.”
Grey suddenly clasped Jack’s forearm and propelled them both out the exit a split second before a burst of heat and flame erupted from the cockpit and shot past their backs.
Time seemed to slow as they fell through the dawning sky. Fighting the wind pasting his skin against his bones, Jack lifted his hand and tugged the chest cord. The chute deployed.
A roaring filled his ears. The force of the blast rocked him. The plane disappeared in an exploding ball of flame and smoke.
Jack struck water and managed a last breath before tasting the salt on his lips. Immersed in wet darkness, he sunk into the silent depths of the ocean. His survival training kicked in. He found the knife hanging from his belt, then cut the strings on his chute. He kicked off his shoes and followed the bubbles of his exhaling breath.
Breaking the surface, he treaded water in the shock waves of the disintegrating plane. Gazing to his right, he saw Grey pointing toward a series of lights in the distance. He focused on the line of illuminations and swam.
Jack wasn’t sure how long or how far they swam, but by the time his toes met solid ground, his shoulders ached with the need to finish the job. The men stumbled in the surf, dragging themselves to safety by their hands and knees. Gasping for air, Jack stared at Grey in silence and knew their thoughts were identical.
They’d failed.
They hadn’t traveled back through time and assassinated the most heinous threat to the free world—Adolph Hitler.
Jack searched the water for Jones, but couldn’t find him. Jones was the strongest swimmer amongst them. He figured the copilot had swum farther down the shoreline. They’d probably spot the young man on the beach when the light was better.
Jack fell on his back beside the agent. “We’ll wait here for Jones.”
Grey nodded, his eyes shutting.
Time passed and the sun rose, revealing a massive bridge stretching across the horizon, but Jones was still nowhere to be seen.
“Jones,” Jack called. “Jones, where the hell are you?”
Grey sat up and drew his legs through the sand. “He made it. The kid swims like a fish.”
Jack was the kind of commander that sensed his crew. He didn’t need to see or hear them to know their location, but he didn’t sense Jones on the beach. Crossing his arms over his chest, he surveyed the sand, the small group of men camping at the edge of the lush vegetation running along the strip, and once again the blue waters.
“He’s not here.”
“We’ll find him,” Grey said, but his slumped stature wasn’t too convincing. “We need to figure out where we are, and then we’ll know where to search.”
“I should have rejected him.”
“Jones was the best qualified man for the job,” Grey insisted.
“He’s fresh out of flight school. Doesn’t matter that he’s more qualified. There were older men up for the position.” Jack shook his head in disgust. He was the captain. He was responsible. “Where the hell are we?”
“Sand, palm tree, lots of green brush,” Grey said. “I’d guess a tropical island. Almost as rugged as Florida.”
“You recognize that bridge?” Jack pointed at the span, hoping his initial impression was correct.
The special agent coughed and cleared his throat, following Jack’s line of sight. “Looks familiar, but I’m not sure.”
“We’re not
off
Florida. We’re in the Florida Keys. About twenty miles south of Marathon,” Jack muttered. “Hell, we didn’t even get through the portal before we lost the plane.”
Grey rolled to his side and pushed himself up. “Better the triangle spit us out here than land belly up in the damn Rhine. And better the ocean claim the debris than the damn Germans.” He climbed to his feet and dusted his knees. “Now the question is where do we start looking for Jones? And how do we get to a base twenty miles away from here?”
“What if Jones hasn’t surfaced?” Jack asked.
“He must have. Like I said, the boy swims like a fish.” Grey fell silent, running his hand through his hair as he scanned the small stretch of sand. “That’s it!”
“What is it?”
“Remember the admiral’s aide, Lt. Jensen? If we’re correct about that bridge, he has a house in this area, less than an hour’s stroll from here. I’ll bet that the kid swam ashore well before us and is already at the lieutenant’s home. Let’s get going.”
Jack shook his head. “No, we need transportation. We ditched our shoes. I’m not looking to walk and jeopardize anyone’s ability to complete the mission if we still have the chance.” It was bad enough returning to the big brass a failure. Failures with blisters on the bottoms of their feet, most importantly failures missing one of their crew, would be the ultimate humiliation. Worse, what if there was still a way to accomplish their goal? Why put it at risk?
“Where you guys from?” called someone from a distance.
“What do we have here?” Grey made his way toward a young man standing in front of a dying fire.
“Hey, dude, you guys raft refugees?” the stranger hollered.
Jack trudged after his crewmember. Stopping when they reached the campsite, he appraised the collection of gear scattered across the sand. Beside the scowling young man, little more than a boy, three campers snored soundly amid an area littered with food wrappers and empty liquor bottles. A fancy MB parked about twenty feet away beckoned like a rescue beacon. Not the typical military vehicle, but it would have to do.
“Morning, I’m Captain Jack Carter and this OSS Agent Lawson Grey.” Jack extended a hand. “We’re on an official mission and need the use of your vehicle. You can claim it at the base later today.”
“What? Are you fucking nuts?” Ignoring the handshake, the scraggly kid scanned the ground for backup, paling when he realized his friends continued to sleep. “Fuck.”
“The keys,” Grey demanded. “Now.”
“This sucks, dude.” The bewildered young man motioned with his head to an army style bag near the fire. When Lawson moved toward the pack, the kid groaned. “Oh, come on. You’re not really going to carjack me, are you?”
“If it wasn’t necessary, we wouldn’t borrow the vehicle.” Along with the keys, Grey pulled out a wad of bills from the sack and handed the booty to Jack.
“Hey, that’s mine!” The kid lunged toward the cash.