Not all Eyes are Private 02

Still working without an Editor, but when no one answers the call, It's still just me and Grammarly. I'm beginning to think there are no Editors out there. They just like the moniker to wear on their shirts. After going through 3/4 of the listings that provided no replies, I decided to let the readers be my editors. It may take longer to polish my skills, But at least I'll get there!

So without further ado, let me introduce you to Ian Marks...

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Ian Marks is my name, and right now, staying alive is the game I have to play. Why do I have to play this fucking game? I have no freaking clue! The only thing I know for sure is Dad called me about two months ago telling me that Gramps and Grams were killed when a gas leak ignited close to their home.

Then, when I was about to take leave from the academy to attend the reading of their wills, I got a Duo call from Dad telling me to drop my phone and 'run home to get my homework done!' Then, in the background, I saw a large black Escalade pull up alongside the car and four guys dressed in tactical gear open up. I watched as they killed my Dad and his wife.

I remember Dad always telling me his little coded phrases, trying to teach me that one meant that and that one meant this. They adopted me, and even though they gave me a good life growing up, when Dad would get into a talking shop, I daydreamed and never really listened. I just figured I got adopted by 'Inspector Gadget' who enjoyed reliving the glory days. I let it go because he always had my back, no matter what. He told me to 'pick a path both heart and mind can agree upon.' He didn't bat an eye when I became a pilot, both props and jets later on. The academy I spoke of earlier was the one the Air Force uses to train astronauts.

I was comfortable with the base's security, the regular security, and the barriers in place. I knew I had to talk with my wing commander first, so I quickly bent over to pick up my small bag, heard a 'tink' like when a stone hits your windshield, and when I stood up... there was a 'spider-web' shattering in the glass from the hole that suddenly appeared in the vending machine in front of me. I got behind what cover there was and tried to spot the shooter, slowly working my way out of the quad.

I got inside the first building I came to, then called my wing commander to relay what had happened. "General Bates? This is Commander Ian Marks." I kept my head on a swivel, looking for anything that might give me trouble, "Sir, someone is trying to kill me. I need help now!

"Trying to kill you? Where are you at, commander?" came his reply.

"Pull the footage from the quad from an hour ago, and it will prove what I'm saying, Sir."

"I'm calling base security to pick you up and take you into protective custody. Tell me where to send them and we'll... Hold on, you just can't come barging in here! Who the fuck do you..." I heard three shots in rapid succession and then silence.

I heard labored breathing and listened to the general whisper, "Get out of here, son, use any means you can. These boys are a federal hit squad!" Then I heard a single shot, and the line went dead. I hung up, trying to accept what I had just heard. "Hey, Commander, wanna give me a hand?" I slowly turned as I looked for cover, but a phone booth that stops at your waist may stop a bullet to the significant organs above the waist. There are worse places you could be shot!

"Airman Walters, what the hell are you doing here?" He had covered for me when I snuck in a lovely redhead into the flight simulator. We crashed and burned. Then it was barely five weeks later When I returned the favor when Walters was caught running a still in the TAD barracks basement. You know how it goes. Everything's fine til the still catches fire. Anyway, I then gave him a glowing report of stupidity, as well as having family problems that made him drink. He didn't want to drive and endanger anyone.

I'll tell that story another time...

"They sent me out here to collect a washer on the second floor, and the guy they called to help me is two hours late. Could I talk you into giving me a hand and putting it up on the duly? I even got a spare pair of coveralls so you don't mess yourself up. How about it?" He asked.

I remembered he had two months of base restriction left. I knew they were looking for a Commander, not two Airmen on base restriction. "Tell you what, Walters, I have some spare time, so I'll give you a hand. I'll need a cover before we go outside, though."

"There's a ball cap in the washroom. That's good enough. Let me run out to the truck and get the coveralls," and off he went. When he returned, I hopped into an office to change. I just left my uniform balled up in a chair, thinking my time as an Air Force pilot was over. We got the washer on the stake bed truck when I offered to go with him to drop it off. Of course, he accepted. I put on a pair of reflective aviator glasses in a drawer in the office, where I changed and put them on.

On the way over to the maintenance shed, we saw a group of them. One was looking at the sky while he talked to his hand and almost walked right out in front of us. Walters swerved, and I yelled out, "We should have just hit your ass!" and flipped him off. We pulled up to the maintenance shed and dropped off the washer.

Walters went to the vending machines to grab some soda and a bag of chips. He returned to an empty truck, I, on the other hand, had caught a ride with a truck hauling ordinance for an attack helo getting ready to impress some asshole enough that he forgets they are three months behind on delivering what they promised. Here, let me prove my point.

I got into the Helo hangar from the back and immediately began looking for Lt. Commander Thomas Bagley. I saw him loading the 'New and Improved" Toy and signing out. "Hey, fuckstick! Go screw your Mistress on you're own time and get back to work!"

He looked up and smiled, "Ian! I see they finally busted you for having that affair

with that good-looking blonde... What's his name again?"

We hugged each other, "What's up my man? We have time before we lift off. Here you are, having second thoughts about sporting your new look!" He joked.

"Not a chance, once in a lifetime in my grasp!" He let me steer him around the corner. I whispered when I told him what was going on. I doubt he would have believed it if it hadn't been coming from me. I asked him if Scrapy-Doo was ready to go.

"Man, this is sure fucked up! give me 20 minutes, and he'll be ready!" I pointed at the 'Men in Black wanna-bees' that came around the corner of Hangar 1. "Make it 10, but you got company," and ran into the hangar. There comes a time in the service when 'Kind knows Kind.' How familiar they are in the surroundings they're in. Sailor knows Sailor, Army knew Army... and I knew they all knew Marshal Arts, but only one was a pilot.

Eleven minutes later, I was in the pilot's seat, warming up the General's little two-seater 'Dragster of the air!' He had a daughter who was a speed freak, meaning that if it wasn't going as fast as she thought it should, she hunted down who was responsible, and the ass-chewing resembled napalm. Its frame had to be rebuilt twice to handle the oversized motor it had because boring it out added so much more horsepower. Then parts and things started missing from inventory and reappearing on 'Scrappy-Do.' The rotors it takes to generate enough lift that when they stop, the tips are six and a half inches from the ground.

The reason her name is 'Scrappy-Do' is because the General was a speed freak as well. So when they would ride inside her, the joke was..."Uncle Scooby-Do (the General) and Scrappy-Do (his niece Rebbeca). She was a Lt. in the research dept. Now, somewhere out west.

I had Scrappy at speed and building lift when the passenger door flew open. I moved to do a hand strike and sat helplessly momentarily. "Beck?" OK, she was supposed to be out west. She started cramming four boxes of files, three laptops, and what looked like a gallon ziplock bag full of memory sticks and flash drives.

She jumped in the passenger seat, locking her belts into place, "Ian, just fly, get me out of here now, and don't fuck around!" 'Scrappy-do' was already off the ground and climbing comfortably. Then I stopped and swung us around in a 180-degree spin and stopped. Beck was going off so bad I switched her headset off. I waited as they did what I knew they would do. Beck started hitting me. I smacked the next incoming hand, and she paused. I used my hand to indicate she needed to watch this.

As the fully loaded attack helicopter began to gather speed and lift, its heavier weight was not so good with quick lift-offs. I turned Beck's headset back on. She was praying. She jumped when I said "Ahmen" with her at the end. "Could I at least ask why you're going to kill us both?"

"DC- Comics, reply 714...DC-Comics, reply 714!"

"DC-Comics... "What the fuck are you doing, Ian?"

"714... "RUN! It's about to get messy!"

I saw his men pouring out the backs of all the hangars and getting to a safer distance. I dropped about 16 feet lower and hovered. I keyed Beck. "You need to see this to have any hope of closure for what happened." We both watched as the attack helo rose more rapidly as it gained speed. I looked over, and Beck was sitting there in shock, staring at it.

At approximately 250 feet, we looked at each other windshield to windshield... I could see the smile on his face as his body tensed, pulling the trigger. I imagined the things running through his head as I looked back at him. One might be... "Why aren't my weapons firing?" or, "Why are my missiles arming but not launching?" But I bet the most important one was, "Why did the computer just dump itself and cut off my engine?" That kind of helicopter has a minigun with a 15,000-round bucket in its nose, making it heavier.

Beck and I watched it crash, killing everyone inside. I'd wager there wasn't enough of everyone left over to fill a vial, two tops! I handed her eight tubed computer chips around 3 inches long and about a half inch in diameter. She looked at me with a blank look. "Computers that run the newer helicopters so they can fly fine, but once you try to activate major systems, everything is set to run through a 'smart box' if you will. Remove the chips from the box, and everything shuts down, and in doing so, arms all missiles and weapons to avoid enemy capture of the technology to be destroyed on impact." I smiled. (Here, endith the lesson.)

"What you just saw was the men who killed your Uncle pay for their crime and can't harm you again. Like I told you, it was closure you needed," and started to vacate the area.

"Well, if it was closure for me, what was it for you... Vengeance? she asked.

I looked into her eyes; these people killed my parents and probably set the explosion that killed my grandparents as well. "No, Beck, it's not vengeance... It's a reckoning!" I looked out the windshield, "They've taken enough from me, and I have a few return messages to take care of, so is there any place I can drop you off?"

"DROP ME OFF? What the fuck are you thinking? I never knew my Dad. My Mom died of a heart attack five days ago, so they changed my duty station to the base with Uncle Scooby till we got things in order. On the way down, I get a message telling me to 'watch my step' because suddenly there's 'agent J and agent K' making copies of all the work I left there to be shipped here, even my shit! Then, the fourth day I'm here, they shoot Uncle Scooby!"

"Ian, I know we didn't get along that well in school together, or even all your trust issues, 'you trust this,' but you 'didn't trust that.' it was always trust, trust, trust! Well, Ian, trust this...when you drop me off, you can leave when I'm holding your bloody manhood in one hand and the knife I used in the other! Ian, you're the last person I know who isn't dead yet! Please!"

I was walking the halls of my past, not the part about removing my manhood, although I wouldn't put it past her, not as freaked as she is... but what she said.

TRUST! I landed in a field about a mile from a strip mall, and sure enough, there was a store selling pre-paid cell phones, so I got three. I also had him show me a better model of those blocks that you charge up to hold four or five recharges if you don't have an outlet than he had.

After I left, I had three phones, one charged up. Meanwhile, the little high school prick at the store had the better unit just starting to charge. I needed to hurry, and he wanted to play Sponge Bob Square Pants, the mobile video game. I made my way back to the helo. I threw the two phones in the back and handed her the phone.

She unplugged it and ran out to the front of the helo. I saw two quick flashes, and then she was back. I wound Scrappy-do up, and just as we started to lift off, I hit full running lights. I was rewarded by the view of two young men tied to trees and naked from the waist down. I heard Beck inhale in the headset to explain, but I just raised my hand... "I don't even want to know." Then we continued up.

Beck's yelling at me yesterday jolted my memory. Everyone in the family had their trust, but only one would be called 'The Trust.' "Let's run quietly for a bit, and we can find out where we are from the local chatter," I told her.

"How about, let's not! Put Scrappy in hover," she sadly smiled, "One last time, for me?"

I nodded, "Scooby-doby-do!"

"And Scrappy-do-too, Grandpa!" she said in a low voice. She reached up, turned the cabin light to her right, and pressed it like a button. Something like a thin film came up from the bottom to the top of the windshield and then extended from side to side, just as I heard the radio running through the frequencies and back. Then, the pedals came alive under my feet, and I watched the stick do a little pattern.

My head snapped over to Beck, who was putting her helmet back on. "Were you boys playing nice while I was gone?" she smiled back at me.

"Playing nice...? Are you trying to tell me that this is like that car from that old TV show that talks to you...?"

"No, silly!" She laughed, "The onboard computer is on a dedicated server with a friend, Uncle, and I trust with our lives. He has a much larger computer that, when connected to us here, he says is like a video game."

"Oh yeah, I just love to play videos, nothing else to do, but..."

"Cowboy, be nice. It's his first time, after all," Beck cut him off.

"You gotta have a nic-name to join the club, hurry up, or she'll do it for you, and you won't like it!" Cowboy voice came over the speaker.

"Remo Williams," came jumping out my mouth. It was the name of an old movie Dad and I watched all the time.

"Yes! That is what I'm talking about, a timeless classic!" Cowboy shouted, "I want to be called, "King Ralph!"

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"Hey, Remo," we must set down for a spell, preferably on a clear lake or river.

"Got you, Ralph. I think I remember just the place." I checked the map, "We can be there in about twenty minutes, would that work?"

"It should do nicely, and you better start nudging Lucy now. She doesn't hear anything when she's plugged in going digital!"

"Well, if that's true, what prompted you to think of that movie for her? Was it she turned into a supercomputer and saved the world?"

"Nope, actually, Lucy was the name of the first girl to give me a rimjob, but as long as it works for her, I ain't saying shit! So get to nudging Remo."

I set down sweetly in a small alcove created when they dug too deep in their gravel pit and hit an underground spring. After all was said and done. There was a good-sized lake that the gravel company still owned.

The owner built his estate there. The unbreakable rule was that nothing mechanical was allowed on the lake, not even the tiny remote-controlled speed boats you operated from the shore. Sailboats, canoes, pedalboats, and sailboards were the only things allowed.

Beck was staring at the two-foot drop from the main lake into the alcove, making almost a constant waterfall to fill the spot where we landed before disappearing over the far edge to the grounds below. "How did you know about this little piece of heaven?" She asked as I approached.

"I once dated a woman in the main house. She was a beautiful woman with long, straight, raven black hair and C-sized breasts that framed her small pixie-type face to perfection. Her legs and ass were what every man dreams about." I saw a vision of my past before me, her naked body diving into the water.

"Well, it's obvious you felt something for her, so why didn't you ask her to marry you?" Beck's voice had an edge to it.

"I did," I replied as I set up the small tent. I was leaving a silent girl behind me.

I made a quick supper from the fruit that grew nearby and ensured Beck was cared for for the night. Then, I quietly made my way up a small pathway on top of a large, flat stone. It hung out over the lake to make it seem like you were sitting on the line that marked where the earth and the sky met.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so sharp as I did or belittle your relationship in any way. After what we've been through, I had just taken it for granted that it would be the two of us fighting to right the wrongs done to us. For a second, it looked like I had already lost you, and I'm not sure I can take that right now."

Beck looked like her next breath was the only thing between her and breaking down. I knew that look. I'd been trained to spot it and how to deal with it while on a mission, but this was far from the norm, and I was sure I wasn't in much better shape. That's when Beck's lips locked onto mine, pulling me down with her to the rock.

Remember the time you made slow, sweet love that took all night? Well, what we did was nothing like that shit. It was raw, animalistic, no-holds-barred, fucking! Beck already had her shirt off but was having trouble with her bra. My hands reached up and tore it from her body so my mouth could feast on her diamond-hard nipples while my hands got busy with her pants. I bit those nipples so hard I thought I was drawing blood.

It was a tie as to whose pants came free first, and we just pushed them down to our knees to get them out of the way. We laid on our sides and got into a quick 69. When I had her pussy juices running down her leg, I pulled my cock out of her very talented mouth and put her on all fours. I bottomed out in one swift push, and her scream could be heard for miles across the water.

We were beyond words at this point. All we could do was lick, growl, and bite each other while we almost 'hate fucked' each other to near death. Beck was the first to go. She was on her back with her legs spread as far apart as she could, and I was between them, pushing them further apart while I had both of her hands pinned against the rock above her head. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and then her head began moving back and forth like she was being possessed, and then her eyes flew open with a wild look in them. Right before she sunk her teeth into my shoulder.

The pain of her bite made the pleasure of fucking a pussy I know is now mine so intense that it sent me flying over the edge, and I exploded inside her feeling her pussy milking me to get every drop. I'm not sure how long I was out, but I know I woke up beside a simmering beauty bathed in the light of the moon. I stood up, held my hand to her, and pulled her to my lips.

We returned to the campsite, where Beck took a better look at my shoulder. She put a small patch of gauze over it with some tape. She laid down in the tent while I made something to lay my head on and began relaxing. "Aren't you going to sleep in the tent with me?" she asked.