Fourth Vector Ch. 20

Jack took a deep breath and then nodded. "I do. I'll send the message over today. Possibly we can discuss it at dinner tomorrow."

"The only question is, what do we do if she accepts?" asked Kat with a grin. "I imagine Abigail might be surprised to see what we show up with."

"I'll let her know. Thankfully, we have plenty of deck space on theDestiny as well as theStardust andHorton to hold those launchers. TheValiant, not so much because of the extra marines, but if we can put those launchers on the three heavy cruisers, I think we'll be in good shape. It shouldn't take much to secure the launchers to their hulls, and we do have the cranes to make them work."

Kat leaned in and kissed him tenderly. "Too much talking for right now. Not enough kissing," she purred softly.

Jack started to chuckle. "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"Because you were too preoccupied with your new toys," teased Kat.

Jack poked her in the sides, making her squeal. She quickly rolled over on her back, and he followed until he was on top of her. Kat wiggled her eyebrows at him, causing her to give another throaty laugh. She then wrapped her legs around his waist.

"I have you just where I want you now, my king," she said with a playful grin.

"Right on top of you? That's what you like?"

She pressed her hips against him several times, purring once she felt his body begin to respond to her own. "Oh, yes. I can tell by the way you're poking me that you're enjoying it too."

"I always enjoy this. Looking at you, seeing your smile, and being against your body like this. You turn me on more than I ever thought possible."

Kat gave him a wicked grin. "Let's see what we can do about that then. She applied gentle pressure against his chest, enough to sneak her arms in-between them. Like a seasoned professional, her hands made quick work of his trousers and her dress. Once his cock was free and her dress bunched around her waist, she placed the tip at her entrance. Jack groaned as soon as he felt the wetness against the tip.

"You're soaked," he said, more a statement than an accusation.

"I've been that way since we got back to our room," she said with a mischievous grin.

Jack pushed his hips forward, entering her body to the sound of a subtle gasp. Kat threw her arms around his shoulders and soon responded by thrusting her hips back at him. He leaned in for a long, tender kiss, loving the feeling of her incredibly wet warmth squeezing against his most sensitive spot.

"I want your cum in me, Jack," she whispered. "I want to walk around the rest of the day knowing I have you inside me. I want to feel you dripping down my legs. Can you make that happen, baby?"

She finished that sexy statement off with an even sexier smile. She knew the effect that she had on him, and soon his hips were pistoning in vigorous fashion. Despite the instinctive urge to fill her completely, Jack focused on making this last. He wanted to enjoy every second of being coupled with her, even if it meant constant attention to stave off his impending orgasm.

Kat seemed to sense his struggle as well, making it into a game to see which one of them would last longer. Even though her dress was bunched up against her hips, she pulled her breasts out from the top, cupping them with each hand as she gave him a sultry look. "Suck them?" she whispered.

He didn't need to be asked twice. Leaning down, he captured one erect nipple between his lips, sucking on it until Kat let out the most delightful squeal. He switched to the other one so as not to neglect it, all the while Kat's moaning continued to get louder.

"Oh, Jack, you're going to make me cum," she whined. A heavy sheen of sweat soon developed on them both as Jack panted heavily at the speed of their working hips.

"Cum with me. I'm almost there," he managed with labored breaths.

In the next moment, Kat threw her head back, pressing deep into the bed. He felt her pussy squeeze around his cock, giving enough friction to make him explode. He pumped a heavy load of cum inside of her, holding his body tightly against her own as their orgasms worked their way through their bodies.

No sooner had Jack recovered his breath did he begin to pull away, wanting to lean back against the bed. However, Kat followed him, soon swinging her leg back over his own and straddling his body. He gave her a questioning look. "What are you doing?"

Kat grinned wickedly. "Time for round two."

*****

Back on the coast, Greg was having a vivid dream, one where he couldn't tell whether he was almost awake or still on the cusp of unconsciousness. The dream was more like a memory than anything, taking him back to the Desert War where he fought against the Ruthenians so long ago. In the dream, he found himself surrounded on all sides by the enemy, his position close to being overrun. He kept calling for his men around him to stand their ground, but many of them took hold of their fears, soon retreating to the rear to get away from a bloodthirsty enemy.

Greg found his numbers dwindling. The enemy got ever closer to his position, threatening not only his flanks but his life. All too soon, his ammunition ran out, and just as he was about to be skewered by a big hulking soldier in front of him, he rejoined the world of the living, bolting upright in his bed.

Taking a deep breath of air, Greg looked around to get a fix on his surroundings. Instantly spotting the telltale signs of the infirmary, he remembered where he was. Greg's hands went up to his throat, feeling for the signs of plague. As his fingers went over his much reduced lymph nodes, he took a sigh of relief.

They weren't like that the last time I was awake, he thought.They used to be much more swollen.

Greg blinked several times as his hands touched the rest of his throat. For some reason, he didn't feel as bad as he did before. His vision was clear, his head wasn't burning hot, and for the first time in a week, he felt like he could spring out of the bed. Pushing himself all the way up and leaning his back against the frame, Greg felt a measure of hope.

Perhaps I've beaten this thing? Maybe I've really beaten the plague?

Before he could have another thought, Greg looked over at the other bed in the room. Instantly, his soaring spirits sagged once more when he saw the unconscious form of Vera still in her bed. Swinging his legs out and touching his feet to the cold floor, he put weight on them gingerly before approaching her bed.

The blonde Galician woman looked serene in her own way, despite not being awake. She was sweating despite the sleep, and he used a spare rag to wipe her forehead. Seeing Vera in such a state always brought back his guilt. Had it not been for his careless actions, she wouldn't be fighting for her life here in the infirmary. He fought hard not to blame himself, a battle he always lost no matter the explanations he came up with in his head. As he gently touched her shoulder, he wished for every ounce of his strength to go to her—to help her fight.

"You deserve life much more than I do," he whispered gently. "I really wish you were awake. I could use your company right now."

Even though he knew was impossible, Greg could have sworn that her lips curled up just slightly. He hoped that wherever she was, she'd heard him, doubling down on her fight of the serious infection. It was the only hope he had.

If he hoped to spend some quiet time with Vera, he would soon be disappointed. It shouldn't have surprised him, but seeing as he was out of bed, Greg soon heard the door open on the other side of the partition. Soon he was looking at Dr. Kendall, the man's trained eyes evaluating him from behind his protective garments.

At least Kendall will be happy to see me.

"Hey, Kendall," said Greg quietly, before turning his attention back to Vera.

"Greg, how are you feeling?"

Greg shrugged. "Much better, frankly. My head isn't burning anymore, I can see straight, and my legs don't feel like a bowl of jelly anymore." He raised his eyes to look at the doctor. "I think I was too strong for this one."

Greg expected a lot of reactions from Kendall. The first one he expected to see was happiness or at least some measure of joy for surviving the plague. He half-expected to see relief in his eyes as well at not losing a charge under his care.

He saw everything except that which he wanted to see. If anything, Kendall looked just as depressed as he had when he walked in.

"Kendall, I don't mean to be a downer, but I thought you'd have a better reaction to seeing me out of bed," said Greg quietly. "What gives?"

Kendall swallowed hard. "Greg, I really need you to return to your bed."

Greg's mouth dropped. He didn't even get the chance to protest as the doctor soon disappeared back into the other room. He found himself muttering under his breath, choosing only the best swear words for Kendall as he said a mental goodbye to Vera and returned to his bed. The mattress was a welcome comfort to his body, not used to exerting himself after all this time in the infirmary. As soon as his head was back on the pillow, Kendall reappeared while carrying a cup of water and some medication.

"Here, take this," said Kendall, giving him the cup. Greg did as he asked, quickly downing the pills.

"When do you think I'll be able to get out of here?" asked Greg hopefully. "I'm feeling on the up and up now. A lot better from the last time I was awake, which was yesterday I think?"

"It was nearly three days ago," said Kendall. "You've been out cold for quite a while."

"Well, I'm awake now," said Greg with determination. "So what do you think? Think I can get out soon?"

Kendall's eyes were pained. His mouth twitched like there were words he wanted to say but couldn't. The more that Greg watched him, the more his hopes fell. There was something in the doctor's body language that he couldn't read, but either way, it still didn't bode well for him.

"We'll see what happens tomorrow," said Kendall finally, after one long gulp.

Greg didn't try to protest any further. Instead, he nodded his head and handed the now empty cup back to Kendall. Before the doctor could leave, he gestured to Vera. "What about her? Is she doing any better?"

Kendall let out a low sigh. "She's in much the same boat as well," he replied ominously.

Just as soon as he appeared, Kendall was gone, leaving Greg alone with his thoughts. He'd hoped that getting a chance to talk with the man might make him feel better, but instead, he found himself feeling worse. Kendall wasn't telling him something, and it was clear he wasn't out of harm's way yet. He let his body relax into the bed as his mind raced with all the possibilities.

He wanted to be out of the infirmary. He wanted to see his men again, and he wanted to shoot with Jack once more. More importantly, he wanted to see Vera's smile one more time and talk the night away with her. His head swiveled back over to her bed. Kendall had said they were in the same boat right now.

There's no other person I'd rather have in my boat than Vera.

*****

As Dr. Kendall went back to his office, he sat down at his desk and tossed his glasses against the wooden top with a heavy sigh. Being the main doctor on theDestiny was never an easy calling. For the most part, it was the same cycle of long periods of nothing punctuated by short bursts of heartbreaking crazy. After enough time, he'd learned to separate his emotions from the patients, not allowing himself to become too invested in their care. It was the only way to last long term in such a profession.

Yet seeing the same optimistic look on Greg's face, just as he'd seen on Vera's yesterday, was enough to make him want to drink. It was a particularly nasty side effect of the plague, rendering its victims into a false sense of security right before it took their lives. Kendall had to wonder about the biology behind it, that which would cause a miniature recovery right before death. Even without the biology, it was an unavoidable facet of the infection, one which few managed to escape.

Even with Vera, she appeared to be much better than the preceding days, but it didn't stop her from slipping back into unconsciousness for now. Kendall was watching her vitals with heavy interest. He wasn't sure if their antibiotics would be enough to balance the plague's more deadly effects, but now that the both of them had hit this crucial juncture, the next day or so would be extremely telling. He just hoped they were strong enough to pull through, at least for Jack's sake.

Remembering the commodore, Kendall began to write up a dispatch for the task force commander, letting him know about Greg's current plight and Vera's condition. He'd been sending regular updates to the man, wanting to make sure he knew what was going on.

As he was in the middle of writing the note, one of his orderlies appeared in the room, carrying a clipboard. He stopped at Kendall's desk.

"Major Vaughn's temperature is already rising," said the orderly, pointing out the recording on his board. "I'm afraid he'll be unconscious within the hour."

Kendall nodded reluctantly. "To be expected, no doubt. Although he is going quicker than Vera was."

"Her vitals are still stable. I just checked her," replied the orderly.

"Stay on them both and keep watch. The next twenty-four hours will be vital."

"Doctor, I hate to even ask this, but should I be preparing a body bag? Perhaps two?" asked the orderly with a raised eyebrow.

It was the question he most wanted to deflect. The single one he didn't want to answer. The appropriate, clinical response was always to be prepared, and to have them on hand as a precaution, especially since their bodies were ridden with the plague.

Yet to do so would be tantamount to admitting defeat. It was a place he couldn't go just yet.

"Not yet," said Kendall with a shake of the head. "There's still hope."

*****

Over a thousand miles away, Eric Rosdahl was hunting. Or rather, he was trying to hunt. His personal nature preserve was extremely quiet today, to the point that he'd rarely seen any small game, let alone large. At one point, he stumbled upon a small group of turkeys but he wasn't in the mood for small game today. Nor did he have a shotgun with him.

Today, he felt like something large. A deer would serve nicely, or even perhaps a wild boar. There wasn't much else in the preserve that was bigger than the two, so he'd have to settle for one of them.

However, his normal spots were completely empty. There was one particular spot that dominated the only hill in the area, from which he could look down on either side for a good distance. One side was a complete open field while the other side was heavily wooded. Some of his best kills had been spotted moving up the tree line, oblivious to the fact that they were sighted down the barrel of his rifle before he fired the fateful shot.

But today was quickly turning out to not be his day. He stayed at his normal spot for twenty minutes before moving on, finding another field where he moved down the center of another long tree line. Behind him were his servants, carrying water, food, as well as a folding chair for when he was tired. They stalked along like a parade behind him, making quite a bit of noise in the process. Eric suspected that might be part of his problem, not having the benefit of silence to sneak up on his prey.

"Magnus, will you quit making such a racket," growled Eric as he stopped to look back at the servant directly behind him. Magnus turned red in the face as he quickly yanked the folding chair from dragging on the ground, instantly ending the metal clink that had been tailing him.

Shaking his head, Eric muttered under his breath and continued forward. As the tree line in front of him opened up into a small, wooded creek, he took stock of his current surroundings, wondering if he should just go back to the palace.

That's when he saw the deer. It was no more than fifty yards away, on the upstream portion of the creek and watching him with innate curiosity. Eric pursed his lips and checked his footing. In his current position, he didn't have a clear shot. There was just a tree and a small thicket in the path of his rifle, and so he began to creep slowly up the stream in search of the perfect shot. He gestured for his servants to stay in their positions, and as his footsteps silently moved up the creek, he kept his eyes on the deer.

Luckily for him, she didn't move even after he misjudged several steps. The sounds of small twigs crunching beneath his boots seemed to echo throughout the wooded area, yet the deer paid no attention to it. It wasn't until Eric had a clear shot that he stopped and positioned his feet.

He brought the rifle up to his face, lining up the shoulder of the deer in his sight.

Flipping off the safety, he took a deep breath and steadied himself.

The deer was as good as his.

His finger wrapped around the trigger.

"Your Highness! Your Highness!"

Eric jerked at the last second at the sudden interruption of silence. The jerk was enough to throw his shoulder backward, and he completely lost aim of the deer. The rifle exploded soon afterward, sending its shot clearly off the mark.

The deer bolted, running up the creek and into another heavy thicket.

"Son of a bitch," swore Eric, seeing his prey escape. He swiveled quickly on his feet, wanting to see exactly who prevented his kill. Taking the rifle with him, he was half a mind away from putting the next bullet into the interrupter.

Until he saw it was Olaf, his chief spy. The man was too valuable to be killed.

"Olaf, you owe me a deer," said Eric with a disappointed expression as he lowered his rifle. "That's the first one I've seen all day."

"My apologies, Your Highness," said Olaf as he finally closed the distance between them. He was breathing heavily, evidence that he'd run the entire way through the forest to find him. Eric had to wonder just how long it had taken the man to find them this deep into the preserve, but his annoyance over losing the deer ensured the question died on his lips.

"Well? What do you want? I hope this is good," said Eric as he took off his gloves.

"It is, Your Highness. We just got a report from our ambassador in Carinthia. Guess who was spotted at the Carinthian royal palace?"

"Reina and her latest boy toy?" Eric suggested dryly.

"Your cousin is there," corrected Olaf. "As well as this foreigner we've been chasing."

Eric finally focused his full attention on the man. "I've been seeking a description of this foreigner. Did they send that along?"

"They certainly did. He's tall, blond hair, blue eyes. Galician look to him through and through," replied Olaf.

So you've done it, Katherine. I can't believe you've actually done it, you stupid little twit.

Eric shook his head as he started to swear. "My cousin's actions are treasonous to say the least. It wasn't enough for her to be a poor regent, but now she seeks to actively work against the government of her people."

"What do you want our orders back to be?" asked Olaf.

"First of all, why are they there? How recently did they arrive and how long are they staying?" questioned Eric.

"It was the first time they were seen in the palace, so the ambassador thinks they are new arrivals. Unfortunately, they secured a meeting with Queen Reina shortly after."

Eric tsk-tsked under his breath. "Poor Reina. She should know better than to meet with dissidents. I want you to send a strongly worded response to her. Make sure she knows exactly what's at stake for harboring my cousin. Make the usual threats. That should be enough for her. She knows which side her bread is buttered on."