Jessamy Beech Ch. 14: Falmouth

"LUPITA!"

. . .

"HELM! Increase speed!"

"We can't sir," responded the lieutenant manning the Poseidon's helm position, "hull integrity may be compromised after the explosion."

Jack Aubrey swore under his breath. His ship, his pride and joy had been effectively castrated. Rendered defenceless by Jessamy fucking Beech. A stiff breeze laden with the smell of burning oil blew in through the shattered bridge windows.

Aubrey pressed a fresh towel to his face as blood continued to trickle down his neck from the wound. A piece of flying metal no wider than the palm of his hand had effectively peeled his cheek and ear from the side of his head. Timely medical treatment back at Devonport might reduce any scarring. But at the speed the Poseidon was moving he doubted he would get there quickly enough.

Jessamy Beech had dived overboard. Fled like a coward. If the explosion hadn't killed her, if she hadn't drowned or frozen in the icy waters of the harbour ... there was still a small chance she might be alive.

Aubrey squeezed the towel against his ruined face causing fresh bleeding, "I'll make you pay for what you did today," he muttered to himself, "I'll make you beg for death by the time I've finished with you ... Jessamy fucking Beech."

. . .

The refugees from Truro helped Jessamy carry Mpenzi back to the pickup in return for a lift to safety. She was alive, but only just. Jessamy had almost no medical knowledge but it was clear even to her that the South African would lose her leg. As to what damage had been done to her spine and internal organs, Jessamy resolved to wait and hear what the experts had to say back in Madron.

It was a slow, torturous drive back. Jessamy tried her best to avoid bumps and potholes while one of the refugees, an ex nurse, tried her best to make Mpenzi comfortable.

The trip had been at least a partial success. But at what cost?

. . .

Ada Wiseley Beech was born on a crisp, sunny autumn afternoon later that same year in the Beech family home. She would never know her father. With an energetic three year old to care for as well, Jessamy's bounty hunting activities would have to be set aside for at least a few months. But the thought always lingered in the shadows at the back of her mind - Aubrey was still out there, and Nemesis whoever she was could come hunting for them again at any time. After the events in Falmouth, Jessamy never went anywhere without a loaded gun close to hand.

Lupita Mpenzi's spinal chord had been severely damaged and her knee smashed beyond repair. Given the facilities of a pre Thanatos hospital, a team of surgeons and years of physiotherapy the end result may have been much different. But with the limited knowledge and medical supplies available to the people of Madron village, the prognosis was clear.

Her scars eventually healed but Mpenzi never regained the use of her remaining leg and resigned herself to being confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life, "Now I've got no choice but to stay here and look after you, old man," she told Jessamy's father with a twinkle in her eye.

Mpenzi and John Beech made an unlikely couple but it was clear to anyone who saw them together that their love and respect for one another was genuine.

. . .

A little over five years later, Mpenzi found Jessamy packing. Loading a water purifier and dog eared Ordnance Survey maps into a scuffed old Osprey rucksack.

"Planning a trip?" she asked, blocking the doorway with her wheelchair so Jessamy had no choice but to answer.

Jessamy nodded, flicking back her long, blonde dreadlocks. Her weapons, two Glocks, an antique SA80, crossbow and Royal Marines Commando knife were laid out neatly on the bed with their appropriate ammunition, "Got a call on the shortwave. The community leader up in Kirkwall ... guy by the name of Keaton wants me to track a murderer."

"Hell of a long way to go Jess."

"There's two entire families dead up there Lupita. Tortured and crucified. This is one sick fuck we're talking about. Two of ... the dead, were little girls about the same ages as Ada and Phoebe. I have to take this one ... for my own peace of mind."

"Any idea where to start looking?"

"I'll find a boat, sail up to what's left of Aberdeen. Last reported sighting of the guy was somewhere west of there in the Cairngorms."

"Does he have a name, this ... this murderer?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he does. Ham something or other. Hamnavoe?"

THE END OF CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A year later ...

Brian Newald was physically shaking. But not from cold or through fear. It was almost as if his body was trying to purge itself of the knowledge he'd just learned. Post traumatic stress from a briefing? Was that even possible?

Not even the thought of the twin teenaged sisters waiting tied up back in his quarters could shift the crushing guilt poisoning his conscience. Captain Jack Aubrey had ordered the annihilation of an entire town and its population in order to test the Soteria Lite weapon system. An estimated five thousand men, women and children wiped out in the blink of an eye. Newald leaned over the edge of the dock where the HMS Poseidon was being readied for departure and vomitted into the harbour.

He was responsible. He'd told Aubrey about the bunker as a way of getting back at that smug bitch Jessamy Beech. But he'd never intended that Aubrey actually use the thing! It was meant as a deterrent, nothing more. And now with the information gathered by his creepy woman assassin Nemesis, he was planning to do it all over again. Once the glitch in the targeting system was fixed, if the Northumbrian town of Berwick Upon Tweed didn't surrender unconditionally it would be vapourised.

"This is fucking crazy, I can't do this anymore," Newald told himself. Later that morning he was due to ferry Aubrey and the Soteria Lite system north to an as yet undisclosed location in Scotland, which would be their new base of operations. He knew because he'd been ordered to check they had sufficient fuel. But then what?

Supposing he commandeered the old Merlin helicopter and tried to warn Berwick Upon Tweed?

He doubted they'd welcome him back with open arms. But, he thought to himself, wouldn't it be good for the first fucking time in my life, to do what's right?

. . .

Almost a week later, Merida sat silently on the thick stone battlements of Berwick Upon Tweed's town wall, watching the sun rise behind a tattered grey cloud bank out over the North Sea. Myrtle the collie squatted for a pee in the weeds and dead grass that had been left to grow unchecked since Thanatos.

Walking the dog this early every morning had become something of a habit. It gave her time to herself, to think. The lookouts greeted her and made a fuss of the dog but apart from that she could be alone with her thoughts for an hour. But the same recurring anxiety plagued her. A fearsome worry that just wouldn't go away. Where was Ross? It had been months. Since contacting Jessamy by shortwave radio on her and Hamnavoe's wedding day, she'd heard nothing from her husband, her friend or their son John.

With Newald the pilot presumed dead and The Phoenix missing she prayed that Ross wouldn't attempt anything as rash as returning to Berwick on foot. The odds of surviving such a journey were minimal.

Merida looked southward as one of the lookouts farther along the wall shouted something she didn't quite hear. She squinted, trying to see what had caught his attention. There.

A tiny white yacht with a filthy, patched sail was limping into the harbour.

More refugees? Perhaps whoever it was had news of the south now that Thanatos was destroyed and no longer looming over their heads. Merida signalled Myrtle to follow and trotted down the worn stone steps towards the quay, checking her handgun was still in its shoulder rig as she went.

. . .

Two grubby young girls in filthy clothes were being helped off the boat by one of Berwick's defence force as Merida arrived on the windswept quay. Myrtle immediately wriggled up to them to make friends, excitedly thrashing her tail from side to side.

"You must be Myrtle!" laughed the taller of the two. The smaller girl giggled.

Merida paused. How could the girl possibly know the dog's name, unless ...

She recognised the others all at once. Her husband Ross, looking grey and exhausted but still managing a smile as he spotted her approaching. John her son, crouching with his back to her as he tied the battered little boat to an iron mooring cleat. Hamnavoe, the grizzled old Scot who Mrs Taber had saved.

And standing at the helm, Jessamy Beech. Her oldest, dearest friend. The dreadlocks were gone, replaced with a thick blonde fuzz, but the celtic knot tattoo was unmistakable, "ROSS! JESS! Welcome back!"

. . .

"So you're leaving again?" Merida leaned back against the tiled wall.

"Eventually," Jessamy sank down into the hot bathwater until only her face was visible above the froth of soapy suds, allowing the heat to ease the aches throughout her bruised body, "after what Aubrey did we have to do everything we can to stop him Meri. He's been a thorn in my side for too fucking long."

Jessamy and the others had briefed Merida and Berwick's ruling council within hours of their arrival. Incredulity and disbelief had met Jessamy's words at first until Hamnavoe stepped in and surprisingly revealed his true identity of Major Angus Banavie. His intimate knowledge of the Soteria project had been enough to convince them that they were all in mortal danger.

Ross and the others were currently meeting to discuss the possible evacuation of the town if the need arose, though they suspected with the nature of Aubrey's weapon it was doubtful they'd be given enough warning. While Phoebe and Ada settled in to their new home with the help of Myrtle, Hamnavoe more or less ordered Jessamy to take a long hot bath and relax for a few hours.

"Trouble is," Jessamy continued, "we don't know where he'll be. Devonport is too obvious. He's got Newald and the Poseidon, so he can set up Soteria Lite anywhere on the planet. Without a clue we might never find him."

The old barracks building was one of the few in Berwick to have had its plumbing system restored and Jessamy had decided to make the most of it. Rather than keep her friend waiting outside the ensuite while she bathed, Jessamy had invited Merida in.

"Feels a bit weird me being naked in front of you after all these years," Jessamy laughed, poking the taps with her toes.

"It's not as if I haven't seen it all before. Even after two kids you've still got a skinny ass. I just went ... curvy."

"You look good curvy," said Jessamy.

Merida perched on the edge of the bath, "Remember when we first met? In Oban?"

"You rubbed antiseptic into all my cuts."

Merida nodded, leaning closer, "There's hardly a day goes by I don't think about that day. What would've happened if Ewan ... Ross, hadn't come back when he did."

"But we made up for it later on didn't we?"

Merida reached the tip of one finger into the water and delicately traced a figure of eight on Jessamy's bare shoulder, "But I wanted you right then. You'd just escaped from ten years of slavery and almost been raped by Butcher Beaconsfield. I wanted to wrap you in my arms and show you there were still some good things in the world."

Jessamy pushed herself upright a little, making bath water slop over the leg of Merida's jeans, "Meri?"

Merida gazed down into Jessamy's eyes, the mid afternoon sun through the bathroom's high window turning her glorious red hair into fire, "What is it?"

Jessamy swallowed hard. It had been years. They both had their own lives now. Husbands, children, responsibilities. It wasn't as if they could do as they wished anymore and to hell with the consequences.

But it might also be their last chance. For nineteen years Jessamy had believed Merida to be dead. She'd found love in the shape of Lupita Mpenzi and later with Jiff Wiseley but she'd never stopped thinking about what could've been ... with Merida. She pressed wet fingertips to Merida's soft cheek, "Why don't you show me now?"

She opened her arms, offering herself.

"What?" Merida grinned, "you mean ..."

With stiff, awkward movements, Jessamy climbed out of the bath, "I want you Meri. Now. Please?"

Merida needed no further invitation. She drew Jessamy's face to hers for a kiss. As their tongues met and explored with sensual slowness Merida stroked the curves of Jessamy's wet body until it found the eager tip of her breast. She cupped the tender swell in her hand, then very gently flicked her fingernail against the nipple.

Beneath her lips Jessamy shuddered and gasped, "I'm wet."

Merida smiled, "I hope so."

Jessamy reached for a towel, "No, not that sort of wet."

Merida pulled the towel around her friend's shoulders, drinking in the sight of the body she'd lain next to every night for months. The body she'd caressed and loved and eventually yearned for so very much. She noticed scars. Old scars from gunshot wounds and arrows, more recent ones from stab wounds and cuts, and wanted to put her lips to each and every one to kiss away the hurt.

Jessamy closed her eyes, her breath whispering between her parted lips. Still, as if waiting for Merida to make the first move and take the lead.

"You didn't finish your bath," purred Merida. She dipped her hand into the bath and trickled soapy water over Jessamy's breasts. The water was still warm, but Jessamy giggled and shivered. Her skin sprang into goosebumps and her nipples tautened, crinkling tight.

Merida licked her lips and watched. She splashed Jessamy's skin all over with the warm bath water, soaking her jeans and plaid shirt in the process. The water beaded on Jessamy's pale shoulders, trickled between her breasts and over her flat toned belly and into the short blonde curls of her pubic hair, "That tickles."

Merida smiled, "Mmhm. Stay there. Don't move."

The redhead quickly stripped out of her clothes. She wanted to be naked. Needed to be. All that mattered in that moment was feeling Jessamy Beech's soapy wet skin sliding against her own. With lustful deliberation she traced her fingers over Jessamy's heaving chest and the toned muscles of her thighs. Jessamy moaned and leant back, "What ..."

The movement unbalanced her and with a shrill squeal of surprise she fell back into the bath, sending water splashing across the tiled floor soaking them both.

"Shit, sorry. Are you okay Jess?" Merida leaned over, red curls hanging around her face like a fiery curtain.

Jessamy smiled up at her, "Aren't you going to join me?"

Without having to be asked a second time, Merida climbed into the bath and pressed her pale body against Jessamy's, lowering her head to draw one rosy nipple into her mouth, as her hand crept inch by inch up between Jessamy's legs to touch and tease and fondle.

"Ohmygod," Jessamy cried, shaking where she sat. She trembled as Merida suckled at her breast, her fingers probing, stroking, sliding deliciously between the engorged lips of her vulva. She lay prone in the gradually cooling water, shuddering and quaking as her dearest friend brought her to a convulsive orgasm with her fingers and her warm, wet mouth.

Merida knelt, gazing down at Jessamy's slender body as it shivered with the aftershocks of pleasure, "Good? You were ready for that."

Slowly Jessamy lifted her head and looked up at Merida from under drooping eyelids, still breathing hard. Wordlessly, Merida stood and held out her hand, guiding Jessamy out of the bath and through into the bedroom.

Glad to see you're still a nympho," Jessamy joked.

"I've waited too long for this. I want to make the most of it. Lie down," Merida told her.

Jessamy lay back on the patchwork duvet and knitted covers of Merida and Ross's bed, her arms lifted above her head, her back arched to accentuate her breasts. One leg straight, the other falling open to reveal the moist folds of her sex.

"You bloody little slut Jess Beech," laughed Merida, and with a sigh of delight flung herself down upon the bed to fit her body between Jessamy's parted thighs.

"You don't have to do this Meri," Jessamy sighed as Merida pressed her lips to the skin of Jessamy's toned, flat belly.

Her body strained upwards as Merida moved her lips softly across the scarred flesh and whispered, "Just lie still Jess, just lie still."

Slowly, teasingly, Merida let her lips wander downwards across Jessamy's skin, making her moan and lift her hips longingly. She brushed her nose against the fine blonde hairs and moved downward, downward, until she could feast her eyes on the beautiful sight she'd only been able to dream of for so many years.

Very slowly, Merida extended her tongue to caress the stiff bud of Jessamy's clitoris. Her friend stiffened, digging calloused fingers into Merida's tumbling red curls and knotted there like claws.

"Ohfuck Meri," Jessamy gasped as Merida gently suckled and lapped at her.

But Merida wasn't finished. She pressed her palms against the flesh of Jessamy's thighs, caressing and squeezing, then slipped her hands beneath Jessamy's writhing body to grip her firm buttocks, pulling her against her mouth.

Merida couldn't help but grin as she sucked and licked the soft folds of Jessamy's vulva, breathing in her tangy scent until her friend panted and gasped, trying desperately to heave her hips up towards the face of the woman who so skilfully pleasured her. Below Merida's working tongue Jessamy's silken entrance quivered as her excitement mounted.

But Merida still wasn't finished. She carefully spread Jessamy's buttocks and slithered the tip of one finger up and down the crease, tickling at the puckered rose of Jessamy's ass, then squeezing the tip just inside and wriggling it there while her tongue lapped and lapped. Jessamy squirmed and twisted on the rumpled bed, her whole body shuddering in the throes of an orgasm so powerful that her head beat against the pillows, her toned legs quaked and her hands spasmed and clutched helplessly at the air.

Merida sat back, face glistening wet with Jessamy's arousal. She licked her lips, savouring the taste, "That wasn't too much was it? The finger I mean?"

Jessamy shivered with pleasure, "No, not at all. I liked it. Loved it. Come here and kiss me. I want to taste myself on you."

Merida crawled obediently up Jessamy's body until she could reach her mouth to deliver a deep kiss.

"Now you've tasted yourself Jessamy Beech," said Merida, pulling away, "I think it's time you tasted me."

She straddled Jessamy's panting face and lowered herself, offering herself to the younger woman's lips and tongue.

Jessamy eagerly lifted her head and clamped her mouth to Merida's mound, sucking and licking for all she was worth. She'd dreamt of this for years, thinking she would never again taste her friend, feel her smooth thighs clamped around her. Every other concern flew from her mind as Merida cried out. She arched backwards, pinching and tugging at her own nipples, then screamed as she felt Jessamy's long fingers crawling up her thighs, parting her soft lips, and pushing their way inside.

Merida thrust her hips towards Jessamy's face and searching fingers, straining towards a climax that would make all the years of waiting worthwhile. She shrieked with pleasure and ground herself down on Jessamy's mouth, twisting and jerking as her orgasm flowed over her in waves.

. . .

Minutes afterwards they lay in silence while Merida recovered her breath. Jessamy drew her head gently onto her shoulder, looking down into her eyes, "Well? Worth the wait?" she asked softly.

"Most definitely girlfriend. Some days I wish we could just go back to the way things were. Me, you and Ross when he had amnesia and thought he was Ewan. Always on the move, sleeping where we could, scavenging. Life's so bloody complicated now," Merida ran the tip of her tongue around her lips and smiled a smile of pure satisfaction.